by Stacy Jones
“We do not know how long the clones are designed to live, aessa. They are, essentially, made to be disposable,” he murmured softly.
Anger had her gritting her teeth, but she forced herself to let out a slow, deep breath.
“That’s something to figure out later. They’ve got to have some kind of cryogenic tech here, right? We’ll ask the ants. And if they don’t know, I’ll find someone on this fucking planet who does.”
Just like that, freeing the slaves became her second priority. Making sure her men didn’t die in the process was now her first. And she didn’t give a single fuck how selfish that was.
Losing her men was not an option.
They said their goodbyes to Braxton after that, telling him to be ready to escape at a moment’s notice, and returned to their cave, but Aria was quiet as they ate, bathed, and lay down to sleep. Her mind was spinning, trying to come up with a plan, thinking through possibilities.
Sleep was a long time in coming, and when it did, she dreamt about her men, standing over their withered, emaciated bodies, watching them slowly die.
Chapter 37
Late that night, once Kix was sure Aria had sunk into sleep, he reluctantly extracted himself from the tangle of her limbs and followed his senses to the ball of pain needling at his mind.
He found the hrrykask right where he expected: crouching in the darkness not too far from their cave.
“Greetings,” Kix murmured calmly, brightening first his hand, then his chest and forehead in welcome.
It was doubtful the male would understand the greeting’s significance as one cajasiira to another since he was not Caljaan, but it served a dual purpose of showing that Kix held no weapons and brightened the tunnel enough for him to see the male had used the healing ring. He was no longer covered in scars and his gaze was sharp, no longer sightless.
Instead of returning the polite welcome, the male stood slowly and growled, “You leave her unattended?”
“Never. I leave her in the able hands of my brother,” he responded cooly, choosing not to take offense to the accusation.
He would no doubt lash out if their places were exchanged, so he opted to let it go and took a seat against the tunnel wall.
It took a while, but the male eventually grunted and returned to his crouch when he realized Kix was not there to drive him away.
Watching him closely, Kix asked, “Did you remember your name?”
The male’s gaze flicked toward him, before returning to stare down the tunnel. A pause and then, “Yes. I am Thrasin.”
Kix nodded. “Will you share it with her?”
He scoffed and clenched his jaw. “How? Yell it and hope she hears? I am not to be trusted near her.”
Kix winced slightly at the grief that emanated from him, but kept his voice even when he responded, “I tried to kill her once.”
Thrasin jerked as though he’d been struck and gave Kix a look of shock before disbelief replaced it.
Expecting that, Kix let the shame he felt at his actions show on his face.
Thrasin’s eyes widened before narrowing to slits. Ever so subtly, he adjusted his weight to the balls of his feet in preparation to attack, but Kix copied one of his Aria’s favorite expressions and raised the skin over one eye until Thrasin snarled and dropped back to his heels.
“Aria calls them octoflies. You know the sound they make, what it does to you.” Kix paused and swallowed hard. He knew Thrasin needed to hear it, but it pained him to speak the words aloud. “I was still locked under the suppression. Susceptible to their influence. I tried to resist, yet I could not. I attacked her.”
A proud smile curled his lips as he remembered what happened next, easing the sting of his sorrow.
“She won the fight. She is fierce, our Aria. She fights as though she knows what her opponent is going to do before they do it. It is… spectacular to witness. Terrifying, as well, to see her in danger. After the fight, she cared for me.” Kix met Thrasin’s astonished stare. “She was never angry. Not once. Nor has she brought it up since then, though I castigate myself often. I have searched her emotions more times than I could count trying to find some hidden censure, anger, anything. Yet, there is nothing. She does not even think of it.”
He smiled again and gazed at the wall as though he could see her through the stone.
Looking back at Thrasin, he added, “Tirox once threw her at an attacker.”
He nodded at the male’s outraged expression.
“Just picked her up and launched her through the air at him. She was upset for only a moment.” Huffing a laugh, he shook his head. “All that to say, she is spectacularly forgiving. She does not hold actions against us that are not ours to bear. She has no anger or sadness for your actions in your cave. It is you avoiding her that causes her pain,” he growled, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in a snarl.
Kix was honored to be her sahaat, her peacemaker, but he could not temper himself in that, not when it came to his mate hurting.
“I will not permit it. You will right yourself and go to her.”
Thrasin opened his mouth to argue, but Kix held up a staying hand as his aessa so often did. Drawing in a cleansing breath, he shook his head.
“It need not be this moment. Learn, quickly, to control your dark side. Once you have, you will go to her. She needs you just as she needs the barbarian and myself.”
Having said all he’d gone to say, Kix pushed to his feet and started to return to his treasure. The absence of her touch was becoming an ache in his chest. But he paused before rounding the corner and glanced back at Thrasin.
He let a bit of his own darkness peer out of its carefully constructed cage and warned coldly, “If you cannot learn to control yourself, I will kill you. Better that she mourns you once than to pine for what you are unable or unwilling to give.”
Without waiting for a reply, Kix turned and left.
Retaking his place by her side, he lay down and drew her into her chest then smiled tenderly when she turned to press her ear over his hearts. Even in slumber, she watched over him.
To be her mate was an honor he did not think he would ever earn. In that, he understood Thrasin all too well.
But, it was one he would watch worlds burn to keep.
Chapter 38
Aria was roused from sleep by someone shaking her and calling her name. The scent of something bitter and cloying stung her nose, and it was harder than it should’ve been to pry her eyes open. When she finally succeeded, everything was oddly blurry.
Her barbarian’s muffled, demanding voice had her trying to turn to face him, but her head was so heavy. Her entire body felt weighed down, almost numb.
“My heart… we… must… go… ”
“Red,” she slurred.
Something was wrong. A weak spurt of adrenaline had her heart skipping a beat, but it was quickly smothered by the overwhelming lethargy spreading through her.
She knew this feeling. She was being drugged.
She tried to fight it, but sleep ruthlessly hauled her back under.
Zhrovni entered the cave in which Vhraress and her males lay unconscious with a pained grunt and leaned against the wall while his remaining security force continued on to roll Zvikah onto the gravity stretcher.
He’d spent the last two days in the healing chamber, the circlet passing up and down his ravaged body too many times to count, until he’d finally been pulled from the brink of death.
He was still limping and in pain, his once beautiful form covered in patches of raw flesh where he’d been scorched, and his newly grown leg was weak and barely supported his weight. His personal healer, one of his Gaelli slaves, tried to insist that he remain in the chamber until he was whole, but he refused.
He’d waited for his revenge long enough.
The entire time he’d been in the chamber, wracked with agonizing pain, he’d been fantasizing about how he was going to punish Vhraress for the unjust and inexcusable horrors she’d committed upon his
person.
What would hurt that ungrateful jeleking slave the most?
He considered torture, vivisection, and killing her outright, but none of those would inflict the kind of pain he needed her to endure. He almost decided on giving her an extra dose of hormones then releasing her into the Mating Games, knowing she was Aware and, yet, wouldn’t be able to stop herself from accepting any who tried to mount her. He might still do that, but it would have to wait, because he thought of something that would cause her far more pain.
Her mates.
Zhrovni did not pretend to understand it. Mates were disposable, to be used for procreation only then discarded once they’d served their purpose. But, she felt affection for hers.
He was going to take the barbarian, torture him, then return him to Vhraress, broken and maimed, in time for her to see the life fade from his eyes. She would be forced to watch, helplessly, as he died. Once he was dead, Zhrovni would take Vezriirax and do the same to him.
Then, and only then, would he put her into the Mating Games.
Maybe there, she could earn him back some of the credits she’d cost him by forcing him to kill two of his best gladiators. She could mourn her dead mates, knowing their deaths were all her fault, while being mounted over and over again until she, herself, was broken and maimed, all while his viewers watched on with glee.
It was beautiful in its symmetry.
After all, he’d suffered more than just physical injuries so she must, as well.
The other Overlords ridiculed him, now, viewed him as weak and unable to control his slaves, his viewership had fallen dramatically, and the Federation was sniffing around, having heard rumors he was keeping slaves who’d attained Awareness instead of granting them freedom and relinquishing them for examination and assimilation into the populous. As if he would ever let her be anything other than what she was: a slave. His slave.
No, she would suffer, just as he was suffering.
Once Zvikah was secured to the gravity stretcher, Zhrovni pushed off the wall and limped up to Vhraress’s prone form.
With a smile curling his beak, he hauled his good leg back and kicked her, hard, in the stomach then stomped on the hideous globes of fat growing from her chest. Sadistic pleasure had his prongs hardening when she grunted at the impact, even as he stumbled and gasped at the pain that shot up his new leg.
Catching himself, he limped back up to her and sneered, “Jeleking rzklii. You will pay for what you have done to me.”
With a final kick, Zhrovni turned and limped back to his glide. Collapsing onto its luxurious surface, he led the way back to the conveyor, almost shaking with glee and anticipation.
Aria jerked upright with a gasp, then immediately hunched over, coughing and clutching her middle. Her breasts and stomach ached like a sonofabitch. It felt like she’d cracked a couple ribs, but how, she didn’t know. The last thing she remembered was… was…
Frowning, she pressed a hand to her forehead. Everything felt fuzzy, it was hard to think, and there was a bitter taste in her mouth. Forcing herself to focus past the pain in her head and stomach, she dredged up a memory of Tirox trying to wake her up.
“What the fuck happened?” she groaned. Squinting, she turned, trying to pierce the darkness. “Kix, wake up, babe. I can’t see.”
Reaching out, she shook him until he grunted then patted her other side, trying to feel for Tirox.
He wasn’t there.
Heart stuttering in her chest, she barked, “Kix. Wake up, now.”
Another grunt, and blue light lit up the space around them.
“Aessa? What… Where is—”
“He’s gone.”
Pushing to her feet with a hiss, she turned in a circle, looking for her barbarian. Kix followed her up, brightening to illuminate the entire cave.
“Tirox!” she called, unable to hide the alarm in her voice.
She started for the shaft leading out, but paused mid-step when Kix said her name.
“Aria. Our weapons are missing.”
Jerking her head around, she looked at him, then down at where he was staring.
He was right. All their weapons were gone. A quick scan of the rest of the floor didn’t show them laying anywhere else, either.
“My ring is gone,” she realized, glancing down at her hand.
“Mine as well.”
Footsteps at the entrance had them both whipping around in time to see the dragon come into view.
Before she could do more than blink in surprise, he drew in a deep breath then snarled.
“Zhrovni,” he rumbled lowly.
Aria’s lungs seized as realization hit.
Tirox’s voice rousing her from sleep, urgent and demanding.
The feeling of lassitude she couldn’t fight.
They’d been drugged and Zhrovni, he…
“He took Red,” she choked.
Why?
But the answer was as obvious as it was horrific.
He took her mate to hurt her. That Zhrovni hadn’t just killed him when he had the chance told her he had something much worse in mind than a quick death.
Fear—true, gut-wrenching fear—flooded her mind. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe past it.
For a handful of seconds, she let the panic consume her, let herself feel the terror, hatred, and rage clawing at her insides.
And then, she carefully, deliberately locked it away. She could feel the alarm coming from Kix, but she blocked that out, as well. She buried everything until the only thing left was cold, quiet numbness and single-minded determination.
Her heart was still racing, but her mind was calm and very, very clear.
Zhrovni had made a mistake in taking her mate.
He was going to die for that.
Chapter 39
Aria sprinted down the tunnel with Kix and the dragon on her heels.
When they entered the main cavern, she heard Rellik call out to her and glanced over to find him, Braxton, Sauran, and another male she didn’t recognize all gathered in the center.
She didn’t answer Rellik’s hail, but the distraction cleared her mind enough for her to realize her plan wouldn’t work.
She’d been headed for the little door the octoflies came out of, but they no longer had any weapons to pry and hold it open. Stopping abruptly, she spun in a circle, searching the space for another way out.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Goddamnit, think!
“The feeding hatch,” she gasped, craning her head back to squint at the ceiling above.
She couldn’t see anything that looked like a door or an opening, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. She hadn’t seen the octofly door, either, until she’d been right up on it.
“Sarasha? Something is wrong?” Rellik questioned, his voice missing the flirty playfulness of before. He sounded concerned, ready to help, but it wasn’t his help she needed.
Reaching a hand out without thinking, she laid her palm on Rellik’s upper stomach, not to stop him, but more as reassurance or comfort. It was a natural move and one she was barely aware of making. Why she was so quick to touch him, she didn’t know and, at that moment, it didn’t matter.
Kix answered for her while she faced Braxton, telling Rellik and everyone else there, “Zhrovni sedated all of us and has taken Tirox.”
“Braxton, you said you could climb. You think you could make it up there?” she asked, pointing to the ceiling.
He followed her finger then gave her an incredulous look. “You kiddin’? Fuck no. I said I could climb, darlin’, not fly.”
“Fly… ” she breathed.
Whipping around, she almost bumped into her dragon. He was standing right behind her, staring down at her as though ready to do whatever she needed.
“Can you shift at will?”
“Do not know,” he answered, his voice a low, apologetic rumble. “Never tried. Zhrovni shoots me with burning liquid to make me change.”
“Could you try now? Please.”
&
nbsp; Reluctance tightened his features and his eyes darted to Kix, but after a brief hesitation, he dipped his chin and murmured, “Your desires are mine, á roínseah. ‘My Light.’”
Aria broke away from his stare when Kix laid a hand on his shoulder. Glancing at her firefly, she saw the short nod he gave the dragon.
“Trust. You can control the… change, Thrasin,” he murmured quietly. If Aria hadn’t been standing so close to them, she wouldn’t have heard him. In a regular voice he continued, “I imagine the serum he injects you with forces the transformation. That does not mean it is a requirement to bring it forth.”
Ignoring everything else, she cut in, “Thrasin?”
Her dragon sucked in a short breath and looked back at her, the faintest of smiles tilting the corner of his lips.
“My name.”
The question as to why Kix knew his name flitted through her mind, but she didn’t voice it.
Thrasin drew in a deep breath, expanding his muscled chest, and closed his eyes. Aria watched, tense, as a frown knit the skin of his brow then clenched her jaw when pain visibly tightened his features.
Her eyes widened when his skin seemed to ripple like water a second before he grunted sharply and bowed over, hunching in on himself. His spine bulged, pressing against the skin of his back and his shoulder blades cracked and moved in a way that had the fine hairs on the nape of her neck standing on end.
As if he couldn’t hold them back any longer, raw, guttural noises seemed to claw their way out of his throat.
“Thrasin!”
Aria reached for him, shocked. She hadn’t known it would hurt. His pain tore at her. She fell with him when he collapsed to his knees and opened her mouth to tell him to stop, that they’d find another way. This looked like it was killing him. The crack of his bones breaking and reforming under his skin and the wet, tearing sound of muscles ripping apart had horror spearing through her.
But, before she could, a rumble shook the ground beneath them.
Eyes wide, she braced a hand on the floor to keep from falling over. She thought it was coming from Thrasin at first… until dust rained down from the ceiling.
