Captive (The Survival Race)

by K. M. Fawcett

  “You did die free. I respected your wishes. With everything I had, I rowed with the current away from Ferly Mor. You got worse and worse, and that night you died.”

  Numb, she rubbed Noah’s back for comfort as well as to ground herself in the reality of having been reawakened yet again. How many times was that now? She waited for Max to continue.

  “I don’t know how long I lay next to your body before I heard the sound of a second chance. The subaquatic’s motor was ahead of us this time. I scrambled out of the tent to see the craft’s hatch sublimate and a poacher aim his tranquilizer gun. We were fish in a barrel.”

  “I don’t suppose you can refrain from the animal idioms?”

  He smirked. “Sorry. I woke up in here alone. After some time, they brought Noah back to me. He was clean, fat, and a healthy pink. They must have given him growth hormones or something because he’s big.”

  “I know. He must weigh nine pounds.”

  “I didn’t recognize him at first. I had to check for his birthmark. Did you know he has your familial birthmark on his pelvis? Anyway, some more time passed and they brought you in, too. Alive.”

  Was that relief in Max’s voice? “I don’t get it. How do poachers know how to reawaken people?”

  “Could be every Hyborean knows how to do that. Or maybe they’re doctors gone bad. Or maybe they learned because there’s no profit in selling a dead animal, er human.”

  “Then why don’t they revive the people killed in the smilodon fights?”

  “Seems advanced technology has its limitations. They haven’t figured a way to reawaken digested bodies.”

  “Ew. Thanks for the visual.” She swallowed bile.

  “You feeling okay? You look pale.”

  She glanced up at him. “There’s barely any light—how can you tell I’m pale?”

  “I’ve great night vision.”

  Max certainly was talkative today. Was this because he was happy she and Noah were alive? Did it even matter? This was an opportune moment to get answers, and she wasn’t going to waste that chance.

  “And supersight,” she said. “How can you see things that are miles away?”

  Max didn’t respond right away. Perhaps he wasn’t in a talkative mood after all.

  “I was born with brown eyes,” he finally said. “Needed glasses in third grade and wore contacts since high school. Then I came here, and one day I woke up with better-than-perfect vision and could see great in dim light. Came in handy during the survival races. Which I guess was the reason your master gave me these cat eyes.”

  “He gave you eyes from a cat?”

  Max snickered. “No. They’re my own eyes. Just enhanced. But whatever he did to enhance them made them turn green.”

  The nipple slipped from Noah’s mouth. He concentrated his little green eyes on his mother’s face as Addy smiled down at him. “He has your eyes.” She kept her smile and attention on her boy. “Do you think he has your supersight?”

  “Hope so. It’ll be his advantage in battle.”

  Addy drew Noah tight to her. “He’s not going to fight.”

  Max’s gaze dropped. Though he didn’t say it, she knew what he was thinking. Decisions regarding Noah wouldn’t be hers to make.

  “The kid’s finished,” he said. “You need to burp him or he’ll toss his cookies all over the place. Trust me. You don’t want to see or smell that.”

  Addy positioned the baby on her shoulder and patted his back.

  “You’ve got to burp him, not lull him to sleep. Do it harder, he won’t break.”

  She did and was rewarded with a loud burp. She giggled unable to decide what was funnier— Noah’s noises or getting baby-care lessons from an alpha gladiator. She envisioned Max changing cloth diapers and tried to cover her laugh with a cough.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Uh, yeah.” She decided against telling him what she was laughing at. “Other than a headache, I feel great. Completely pain free. As a matter of fact, I feel as though I never gave birth. Or died.”

  Max nodded in understanding.

  “Is that how you felt after reawakening from the Survival Race Championship?” She remembered his leg bone sticking through his skin on the operating table. Only two weeks later he was crawling through conduit systems and running across the frozen tundra.

  “That’s how I felt after every survival race. Groggy from the drugs, but pieced back together and physically healed. This sport is fucked up. When you’re fighting the same guy you ran your sword through and left for dead last month, you become desensitized to the bloodshed. And when cold steel penetrates your flesh or a man-eating beast mauls you, yet you wake up without pain or a single scar, you believe you’re immortal.”

  Goose bumps tingled her arms and spine, making her shudder. Gladiators led a violent life, and Max’s casualness in discussing that violence proved it was a normal everyday occurrence.

  No wonder some gladiators like Regan thrived on power, control, and instilling fear in others. From birth, gladiators had been drilled in aggression and hostility. Regan probably didn’t have a clue how violent he was.

  But Max knew, and so did she. They hadn’t been born into this chaos. They were just destined to die in it.

  She bent her head to Noah, her hair falling like a curtain around her face and concealing her tears from Max. What was to become of them? How long until they were separated? Would death come quick, or would it be drawn out and excruciating?

  Max brushed his thumb across her cheek, and she closed her eyes, savoring his tender touch. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m so scared.” Careful not to crush Noah, she leaned into Max’s solid chest. She needed his comfort.

  His entire body tensed.

  Mistake. The last time she’d leaned into his body and stroked his hair, he’d straightened his spine and snapped back into Max the gladiator, which was a step above Max the beast. She tried pulling away to prevent him from relapsing but his arm encircled her back, stopping her. He drew her tighter to him, and guided her head onto his shoulder. Apparently, he was still Max the man and felt comfortable enough to console her.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled. He smelled good. Clean. Weeks of sweat, grime, and sea spray had been washed away, leaving only the scent of cleanser and man. A scent reminiscent of the breeding box...and the shower...and Max’s magnificent, naked body.

  A tingling sensation not due to nursing tickled her breasts. Her hormones must have been out of whack from giving birth.

  Or was it from dying?

  She still couldn’t believe she had died. Again. What a fool she had been to think she could survive this world. If it hadn’t been for the poachers, her baby wouldn’t have his mother. If it hadn’t been for the poachers, Noah would have died. If it hadn’t been for the poachers, Max would have been free. A heavy weight anchored her body to Max’s.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered into his shirt. His heat radiated through the soft material finding a home in her cheek.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “For causing you so much trouble. You were right. It was easy being brave when I stood in the safety of HuBReC’s kennel. I had no idea about this world or anything in it. I didn’t realize how cold it was. How harsh.”

  She had to gain control of her chin’s quivering. If she cried now, she wouldn’t be able to tell him she was wrong. And she needed to tell him. She needed to unload the emotional baggage she’d been schlepping since the escape.

  “But you took care of me this whole time. And you took care of Noah, too. I understand why you left me at the Tuniit village. You were trying to protect us. I wouldn’t have made it through one night in the frozen wilderness alone. I thought I was brave, but I was just plain stupid.”

  “Stupidity and bravery aren’t defined in the moment, you know.” He stroked her hair. “They’re defined by the outcome.”

  Her train of thought pulled its emotional baggage car out
of the station without her. She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I don’t understand.”

  “Say a guy’s in a war. The enemy is advancing. His orders are to retreat. Instead, he goes back through a minefield to rescue his fallen brother. What do you call him?”

  “Brave.”

  He shook his head no. “It depends on the outcome. If he rescues the guy and makes it back, you call him a hero and give him a medal. If he gets blown up, you call him a stupid ass.”

  She cracked a smile at his logic. “So you’re only brave if you win?”

  “Let me put it this way. If the Continental Army lost, they wouldn’t be known as heroic freedom fighters. They’d be known as the stupid buggers hanged for treason.”

  A laugh formed in her belly, but fizzled out before it reached her mouth. “I’m sorry, Max, but I don’t see how we can win when poachers have locked us in this cage.” She waved her free hand for emphasis.

  Max caught her hand and held it firmly between strong fingers. “I remember us being locked in a cage once before, yet we managed to escape. Funny thing about cages. Eventually—” he released her hand “—they’re opened.”

  Chapter Forty-one

  Regan peered over the subaquatic’s railing to the umiak tied up below. Sunshine warmed his face; salty sea air penetrated his lungs, but neither calmed his frustration.

  The only thing he’d found onboard that primitive manmade vessel was an animal pelt with a spot of freeze-dried blood.

  It had to be his broodmare’s. Who else would be out here bleeding? Not the Tuniit bastard who locked him up with Duncan and his pathetic excuse for a Hyborean master for eight days.

  Eight fucking days.

  If he hadn’t spent his time training and doing calisthenics, he might have killed them both. Then where would he be?

  Duncan climbed out of the hatch and joined him at the railing. “Ferly Mor has finished the DNA test. The blood is Addy’s.”

  Regan nodded. So where the hell was she?

  He’d found no evidence of an attack from marine life. The single rip in the animal skin covering appeared to be caused by ice. They couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to leave the boat’s safety and climb aboard a melting iceberg. And if they accidentally fell overboard, all their gear wouldn’t be missing. The abandoned vessel had been left intact but deliberately cleaned out. The facts were clear and yielded only one explanation.

  She’d been poached.

  Drumming his fingers on the railing, he gazed at empty horizon. How the hell would they find her now?

  “Fear not, lad. Ferly Mor is sure to call the Human Gaming Commission. He’ll report a poaching, and with the HGC’s help, it will no’ be long before Addy and the babe are recovered. Ye’ll see.”

  Chapter Forty-two

  The heated watercraft must have been doing wonders for Max, because any iciness he had shown Addy prior to her death had completely melted. He was acting uncharacteristically optimistic. And, dare she say it…happy? It was as if he were a different man. Different wasn’t the right word. He was acting like a man. Period. Not a gladiator and not a beast in survival mode.

  There were so many more questions she wanted answered. There was so much more she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to push him. He was treading new territory, and she feared asking too much too soon would make him angry and revert back to his inner beast. So she remained silent for a long while.

  Max was sitting next to her with his back against the wall and his arm touching hers. He didn’t move away or seem to mind when she rested her head against his shoulder. Not because she was tired—she was far from it—but because she wanted comfort. She wanted to feel his presense in the darkness. To know she wasn’t alone. That he was on her side. And that maybe he cared for her just a little. She was scared. But the unknown seemed easier to bear leaning against his solid body.

  At least Noah didn’t sense her fear or anxiety, as he fell asleep in her lap. For that, she was grateful. She wanted to kiss his soft, little head but thought it best not to disturb him. He needed to sleep. The first two days of his life had been rough ones.

  “Have you ever been captured by poachers before?” She couldn’t see his head, but felt his body move as he shook it.

  “No. I’d always been owned by race masters. The last time I escaped, Xanthrag found me.”

  “What was it like? Your escape with Kedric, I mean. It must have been a lot easier teaming up with another gladiator rather than a pregnant lady.” If it weren’t for her, Max would have been able to travel faster. He might have been able to evade these poachers and reach the refuge this time. She couldn’t mask the dejection in her sigh.

  “Honestly? My first attempt sucked. I was in the garbage a lot longer. I lost my sword to Lucky for food and shelter. It was winter, so the Tuniits made their village further south of the Ice Mountains—like a-month-on-foot south.

  “Of course, neither Kedric nor I knew who the Tuniits were. We waited until dark, raided a house for food, then tried to steal a boat. Some guy clubbed Kedric and we had to spend more time there while he healed. Somehow Kedric got us a two-man canoe, but would never say what he had traded for it.”

  “Why not?”

  Her head bobbed up and down with his arm as he shrugged. “I don’t know. Kedric wasn’t much of a talker.”

  Look who’s talking. It was difficult not to chuckle at that, but somehow she managed to stifle a laugh. She didn’t want to give him a reason to shut down.

  “Anyway, we had to portage that damn canoe ourselves all the way to the Southwest Passage. We didn’t have a team of wolves pulling it. Then a storm hit us in the middle of the ocean and the canoe capsized. I would have drowned a third and final time if it hadn’t been for Kedric.

  “Finally, we hit land. It was late winter and temperatures were bearable, which was good, since our thermal cream had run out. Huddling with him to keep warm wasn’t nearly as pleasant as with you.” He leaned into her, heat radiated off his body.

  Her heart fluttered. There was no arguing the comfort and security she received when huddling with this capable warrior. Their relationship may have been rough until now, but knowing Max was on her side filled her with hope and...and something else she couldn’t quite name.

  “The problem came with all the melting snow,” he continued. “The further south we traveled, the more mud we encountered. Which was probably how Xanthrag found our trail. We split up at a ravine marking the border of Pele, the island refuge. A huge river separated us from freedom. I never got the chance to cross, though. Xanthrag captured me.”

  Staring beyond her, Max’s eyes hardened as if watching that dire moment. His attention snapped back to her. “I can only assume since Xanthrag never captured Kedric, he made it across. That’s what I told Duncan, anyway. So there you have it. I’ve been much luckier having you escape with me.”

  “Luckier? What about the saber-toothed tiger and these poachers?”

  “You weren’t with me when I got attacked.” His voice turned softer. “And you weren’t...with me...when the poachers came. But you’re back now, and I know we’re gonna make it to the refuge.”

  “It’s too dark for me to read you, Max. I’m not sure if your optimism is due to arrogance or ignorance.”

  “It all depends on the—”

  “—outcome,” she finished for him. “Right.”

  Shadows slowly melted from Max’s face until she could see the clear whites and vibrant green in his eyes. She had forgotten what they looked like without fury, fatigue, or famine prevailing them.

  They were gorgeous.

  As was he with his mischievous smirk, his short, black hair, and his rugged stubble that looked good only on models, some actors, and him. The poachers must have shaved and groomed him. Probably wanted him to look good for his sale. And he did look good. He looked better than good.

  Damn, he was hot.

  And so was she, as heat from her core spread down her arms and legs and up to her fac
e. Her lips dried. She licked them.

  Max’s gaze left hers, darted to her lips, and then met her gaze again with an unspoken question. He ran his fingers down the length of her hair. His eyes smoldered with lust, yet he made no move.

  She leaned into him and brushed her lips across his.

  In an instant, his hand fisted her hair and he wrenched her to him in fierce hunger. He devoured her mouth with frightening brutality before quickly releasing her.

  “Dammit,” he said.

  The pounding of her heart subsided. If he hadn’t let her go, she would have feared his Regan-like attack. But he did let go, proving yet again that his humanity prevailed over his animal instincts.

  Cupping his stubbly jaw in her hands, and raising his lips to meet hers, she kissed him softly, offering his abused soul tenderness.

  A full two seconds passed before he returned the kiss. Though he markedly reined in his aggressiveness, she sensed the volatile edge of the alpha warrior inside. He possessed a danger like wildfire that could spread out of control with the slightest breeze.

  Her heart clambered. Her head clouded in dizzy excitement. His mouth seared her lips as he deepened the kiss. Surrendering to him, she opened her mouth to his tongue and tasted his passion.

  Another rush of heat exploded in her core, engulfing her with desire. With Noah still asleep on her lap, she wrapped her arms around Max.

  He didn’t touch her in return.

  “Hold me,” she whispered against his lips.

  “I can’t.”

  She pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “Why not?”

  “Because this is the first time you’ve kissed me of your own free will. And welcomed my kiss in return.” Through the darkness, his green eyes shone with pain. “If I touch you, I’ll lose control. I can’t risk hurting you again.”

  Hurt her? How many times had he demonstrated his humanity? Yet he still feared his animal brutality. Didn’t he see the tenderness inside himself? Couldn’t he recognize it when he had cared for her and Noah? If only he could trust those feelings, he could tame his inner beast.