And the stuff —she thought maybe it was an ointment— smelled really nice. It smelled, she realized, like Vega. So it must have been something the cursii were given to help them after training. She was actually quite grateful for it once the slave finished working it into her skin.
When the orange-scaled slave was done, she helped her up off the bed and into a gown, then fixed her hair in several braids and wound them together away from her face. Dyhar had instructed her to eat only specific foods that would aid in her training, and as the orange-scaled slave and her comrades left, Nyssa entered carrying a tray. All Alaina wanted to do was sleep, but she knew she had to eat first, so she dropped to a seat on one of the low sofas surrounding the low table Nyssa set her tray on.
“I thought you were a cleaner,” Alaina said, watching the yellow-scaled slave. “Not a server.”
“Our masters have finally noticed my worth,” Nyssa said, shrugging.
“Are you hungry?” Alaina asked, gesturing to the food. “Do you want some?”
Nyssa eyed her a moment and then sat down across from her, picking up a piece of spiky fruit that Alaina had no name for.
Dyhar had told her to eat the meat, so Alaina picked up a piece of what she told herself was basically chicken, and nibbled at it.
“Do you still hate me?” she asked Nyssa, after another moment.
The slave shrugged again. “Does it matter?”
“You’ve been helping me.”
Nyssa smiled. “Money is more powerful than hate, donara. Besides, you’ll probably be dead soon. There’s nothing for me to hate you for anymore.”
Alaina frowned. “Do you have any suggestions for how I might avoid being dead? You seem clever.”
Nyssa tilted her head from side to side, popping another fruit into her mouth. “Don’t be brave,” she said. “Be ruthless. The cursii fight to kill, not to win. And when you get your freedom, run as far and as fast as you can.”
Alaina nodded. “Will you do me another favor?”
Nyssa sighed. “I have done you too many favors, human.”
“Just get a message to Rua for me. If he’s still on the station.”
“He is.” She smirked. “He went to the lovehouses and has been spending his money there, and wasting his time. I can get him a message. It will cost you more.”
“Fine.” Alaina shook her head. “I don’t care. You can have half of my winner’s purse if you want it.”
Nyssa scoffed. “You have to win for me to get this money. It is not a good deal.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Your future, my future,” Nyssa said. “They all rely on you winning. It is a terrible situation. But you have nothing I want if you don’t win, so…” She pulled a vial from a hidden slot sewn into the belt of her gown and set it on the table. “Don’t lose.”
Alaina stared at the vial. “Poison?”
Nyssa nodded. “Coat your blades. Give yourself an advantage. You’ll need it.”
Alaina looked at her. “But isn’t this cheating? Won’t they punish me for it?”
Nyssa shrugged. “There is no cheating in the arena. There are only winners, and the dead. But I know you now, human. You have no stomach for killing. This will slow your opponents down and knock them out, not kill them. Use the poison and you may win without having to actually win. I will get a message to Rua for you. And when you win, I will take your entire winner’s purse and perhaps buy my own freedom with it.”
Alaina had wanted to reserve some of the purse to try and buy Bathari and Yfia their freedom. But she thought it more like that Nyssa would be able to buy her freedom. Atticon and Lennai would not want to give up two more prominent slaves so quickly. Alaina would find a way to get their friends out of this place. Some other way. But Nyssa was right that none of it would matter if she died in the arena. All of their plans, all of their futures, relied on her not just surviving, but winning.
“I need you to ask Rua if he’ll take us off the station when I win,” Alaina said quietly.
Nyssa snickered. “Bold. But perhaps Rua is your only ally now on the outside? And human. You see how you trust your own first.”
“I don’t trust him,” Alaina said quickly. “But he’s the only one I know with a ship. And he owes me too.”
Nyssa nodded. “Smart. Hopefully he will be sober enough to fly anything.”
“Hopefully,” Alaina muttered.
Nyssa got to her feet and went for the door, but she stopped, turning back to Alaina. “Also,” she said. “Remember the crowd.”
“What do you mean?” Alaina asked.
Nyssa arched her eyebrows. “The crowd loves you. You represent so many of them, fighting back when you’re not supposed to. The crowd is on your side. And they are a million voices, a million distractions for your opponents. Don’t forget the crowd. Use the crowd.”
Alaina nodded, but she wasn’t sure how she could use a stadium full of people to win a fight in close combat. Nyssa left, and Alaina let her shoulders slump as she hunched towards the tray of food, forcing herself to finish eating. Her eyes kept straying to the poison on the table beside the tray.
Chapter Forty-Two
The night before the games, Vega experienced a new kind of anxiety. Instead of the peaceful walking he’d always done through the barracks on the eve of a game day, he paced from one corner of his tiny room to another, even wringing his hands. Bathari had healed well enough from his wounds and returned to the barracks with the other cursii, but Vega’s wounds were still such that he probably should not have been pacing. He couldn’t help it. He’d had to resign himself to the fact Alaina would fight. He hated it. It filled his heart with terror, but he was trying to quell that terror for her sake. He knew she’d been training with Dyhar and there was no better teacher on the entire space station. If anyone could get her in fighting shape in a matter of days, it was Dyhar. And yet, she was human, and she was Vega’s, and he feared for her. He wasn't used to this confounding mixture of terror and love. It left him breathless most of the day.
Now it was well past lights-out and the barracks were dark, and Vega paced as he waited. He knew Alaina would be in the training yard with Dyhar, and he waited. Dyhar had made him a promise, and Dyhar never went back on his promises.
Still, his heart jumped in his chest when Dyhar appeared in the doorway to his room.
Vega locked eyes with the Master of Cursii, heart pounding, and he held his breath until Dyhar stepped aside. Alaina stood behind him in the darkened hallway. She stepped carefully into the room and Dyhar nodded to Vega.
“You have an hour,” the Master said quietly. “And then I’ll have to return her to her room.”
“Thank you, master,” Vega whispered.
Dyhar smiled, something sad in it. “It is all I can give you. I wish there was more.”
“You’ve given us so much,” Alaina told him, squeezing his arm. “We’re so grateful.”
“You have given me pride and hope,” Dyhar told her. “I’ll see you soon.”
Then he slipped out of the room and keyed his security code into the control panel, which slid the door shut and locked it.
Vega went to Alaina, pulling her into his arms, and kissed her fiercely. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pressed her back against the closed door of the room, lips parting so he could slide his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. He marveled in how she tasted, always the same, always Alaina, soft and deliciously wanting. She jumped a little and he caught her by the hips as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pinned between his body and the door. Vega gripped her thighs and kissed her harder, biting lightly down on her bottom lip. Lifting her strained his wounded side, his wounded chest. Burned his muscles. And he didn’t care. The pain was worth it. The pain was a reminder that they never had as long as they deserved. He wanted to kiss and taste every inch of her. He kissed her jaw, her throat, as her fingers dug into his hair and she tilted her head ba
ck against the door with a heavy breath.
“Vega,” she whispered. “If I don’t win tomorrow…”
“No,” he said, as he kissed her shoulder, her collar bone. “Don’t even say it.”
“But…”
He lifted his head so he could look into her eyes. Her strange, morning-mist eyes. Her human face. Fragile and strong at once. Beautiful and so determined. “It’s our wedding night,” he whispered. “Don’t say it. I love you, I believe in you. You’re going to win.”
“I love you too,” Alaina said.
Before she could say another thing about what might happen if she didn’t win, Vega kissed her again. Then he carried her away from the door, spilling her gently down onto the cot. He wasn’t going to take her against the wall. He didn’t want it to be harried, to be fast and desperate. He wanted to look into her eyes as he made love to her, like a proper husband. He wanted them to be able to pretend they weren’t slaves, that this wasn’t a barracks, and that their lives might not end tomorrow.
She eased onto her back on the cot, knees spreading, and Vega crawled between her legs and knelt there, slowing tugging the belt of her sheer dress away. He unwrapped her like a gift, gently peeling the fabric back from her shoulders, the generous swells of her breasts, her stomach. He bent down and kissed her, then kissed her breast, and she arched a little as he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled it, still pulling the gown away from her hips. Alaina gripped at the bedclothes, and he sucked some more then kissed the underside of her breast, the soft flesh of her stomach, and further down. He kissed her hip, inching back, kissed the inside of her thigh. Then her hands were in his hair again as he kissed her sex, nuzzled into the folds of her and licked at her opening. She shuddered, and he smiled against her skin, then slipped a pair of fingers inside of her, and started sucking on her most pleasurable nub. She gasped and arched her back again, and soon she was lifting her hips against his mouth, pushing against his fingers, as he sucked and licked and beckoned her towards climax.
She started to pant and Vega felt himself go rock hard in response, aching with desire for her, but he could be patient. She grasped at her own breasts, lips parting in a silent moan that got stuck in her throat, and Vega pumped his fingers into her and swirled his tongue against her sex, then sucked some more until finally she jerked, sweat glistening all along the length of her body. She trembled and smiled and Vega lifted his head, crawling back up the length of her as she stilled, gulping down breaths as the orgasm turned her limbs to jelly.
“Nobody’s ever been able to do this to me before,” she sighed, eyes low-lashed as she watched him settle above her. “Maybe it’s because you’re an alien.”
Vega chuckled. “Maybe it’s because I love you.”
“Also that.” Alaina’s smile was slow and gorgeous. She lifted her knees to cradle Vega’s hips, and he slid a hand up and down her thigh, memorizing the feel of her skin against his palm.
She reached between them, fingers tugging at the laces of his linen trousers until they came loose, and then she reached down the front of his trousers and grasped the length of his cock. Vega inhaled deeply, eyes closing as pleasure rocketed through him, and she stroked him a few times before lifted her hips towards his, inching closer to him until she could bring the head of his cock to her entrance.
“I love you,” she said again. “Husband.”
Vega bowed his head, lowering until he could tuck his face against her throat. “I love you too, wife.”
Then he thrust himself deep inside her and they both gasped, clinging to each other, and Vega felt a tremble go through him at being so buried inside her. They fit one another perfectly, and it was baffling but amazing.
Slowly, Vega pushed even deeper into her, and she dug her fingers into his back. He withdrew, then slid back into her, and they rocked against each other in time. He pulled back and thrust deeper in again, feeling the warm, wet sheathe of her envelope him. Her legs wrapped tight around his hips, hands clawing lightly down his back to grip at his buttocks and force him back inside her when he withdrew.
She threw her head back with a moan and Vega felt himself losing control. He pumped faster into her. The little, desperate, quiet noises she made drove him crazy, and every thrust coaxed more and more from her throat. He pressed a kiss to her neck for every noise she made, until she pushed him back by the shoulders.
He was surprised and confused for a moment, resisting, but then he eased back, removing himself from within her and looked down at her, trying to understand.
She just smiled up at him and rolled over, lifting her ass and pressed it back against his hips. Vega grasped at her sides, swallowing a groan, and soon enough was back inside her, pounding himself into her with abandon. She gripped the edge of the cot and buryied her face in the single, small pillow to keep from screaming. Vega held on, slamming into Alaina again and again, holding onto the fragile thread of his climax until Alaina came first, mewling into the pillow as her orgasm tore through her. Then Vega let go, arching against her, fingers leaving red marks on her hips. And it was as he came that the long, pale expanse of her back came into focus.
All that smooth, soft skin beneath him.
The sloping curves of her shoulder blades and the trench of her spine.
And there, curling out of the divot where her back met her buttocks, a line of three shining black scales had formed.
Vega gasped, bending over her, arms wrapping around her, and together they collapsed to the cot. Alaina trembled with ecstasy and Vega shook with...some combination of ecstasy and a brand new, completely foreign terror.
He’d heard of it happening when Errai mated with other species. He’d heard of Jiayi suddenly sprouting scales the same color as the Errai they bedded. Even Ankaa, on the rare occasions they mated with anyone outside their species. If it was Errai, and if the Errai was male and the other species female, and if the woman got pregnant, she would develop scales the same color as her mate.
Alaina was pregnant.
Vega clung to her with hope and wonder, and had no idea how he was going to let her go when Dyhar came to take her back.
She curled up against him, rolling onto her side to face him, and Vega decided not to tell her. Not yet. He needed her to survive the games, and he was afraid she’d be too careful if she knew about the baby. Errai children were strong, even in the womb. The child might give her strength. And she would desperately need it.
Chapter Forty-Three
Alaina knew it was coming, but all the same, when she heard the bell tone of the little room’s door being opened, her heart sank. She’d pulled her dress back on, and Vega had tugged up and retied his trousers, but they were still curled up on the cot together when Dyhar appeared. She swallowed a sigh, looking up into Vega’s face another moment. Into his violet eyes. She reached up and brushed a spill of his black hair back from his brow.
“When and where you are wife,” Vega murmured, smiling as he looked down at her. “I am husband.”
She leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.
“It’s time,” Dyhar said.
“I am wife,” she whispered to Vega, and then reluctantly sat up.
His arms fell away from her and she got to her feet, brushing out her gown as she went to the Master of Cursii. Dyhar gestured her out of the room and she went without looking back. She knew it would be too hard to walk away from Vega if she looked back. So she went into the dark hallway and just focused on breathing. She couldn’t cry. She felt like she wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. She held it in and tried to turn it into determination instead of fear. She felt Dyhar at her back, his hand on her shoulder, and she started down the corridor for the lift. He took her back to her room in silence.
She went to bed and couldn’t sleep. So she lay there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how crazy her life had become. If someone had asked her back on Earth before all of this, if her life was exciting, she would have said ye
s. She spent her nights saving lives. She was always running into the disaster, into the fray, to save lives. And then Rua, and then Lennai, and then Vega, and then the Arena. She’d gone from being a lonely woman in a too-big world to fighting for freedom and love in a too-big universe.
Eventually her exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she fell asleep.
She dreamed of Vega. Of his home planet, as he had described it to her. Fields of green, trees bursting with crimson leaves. The never ending duel of sunrise and sunset from the two bright stars in the sky. She wanted so desperately to see it all with him. So she dreamed of walking through emerald fields, holding his hand.
It was before the solar bell when the slaves came to wake her.
The orange-scaled slave roused her from sleep, and they took her into the bath chamber to wash her down. This time they plaited her hair back into the two tight braids above her ears like those Vega wore into the arena. And there was no gauzy dress today. Instead, they helped her into sturdy, skin-tight armor, not unlike what she had worn on her first day in the pit. But this was thicker, meant to withstand blows from curson blades, at least some of them. They secured a belt around her hips with several knives attached, the ones that Dyhar had been training her to use.
She pulled one of the knives free of its sheathe to look at it. These were the exact knives Dyhar had been training her with. She could tell from the weight of it, the grip, and she was thankful.
Then she told the slaves to leave her alone a moment so she could pee.
But instead of using the lavatory, she pulled Nyssa’s poison from one of the bath chamber drawers. She looked at it a moment, hesitating. It was cheating. And if she didn’t kill her opponents, she wondered if the Master of Games would call it forfeit. If the crowd would turn on her. But Alaina’s conscious couldn’t take killing. Her first foray into the arena had been bad enough.
She uncapped the poison and poured it over each of her blades, . When she emerged from the bath chamber, the slaves were all looking at her with understanding, sympathetic expressions. They must have thought she’d been throwing up from fear. Admittedly, she’d considered it.
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