Dorrin climbed out in a single, fluid motion, the water making his clothing stick to his incredible physique. His muscles were pumped and full from their efforts, and his cock stood out long and thick against his thigh under his clinging trousers.
He bent down, his massive hands lifting her from the water as if she weighed nothing, setting her on her shaky feet.
“Nowrun,” he commanded, but he did at least wait a second for his words to process.
They were looping back toward the arena, Ziana realized as they vaulted over low obstacles, splashing down in more water hazards, almost like some sort of masochistic, alien steeple chase course only with murky water, mud, and uneven terrain.
Dorrin ignored all of that, simply hard-charging ahead, single-minded in his focus, driving them back into the arena for the final sprint to the finish line.
The crowd cheered, money exchanging hands as bets were won and lost. Ziana didn’t care about that. She just reveled in the sensation ofnotbeing at a full run. She sucked air, her lungs aching from the effort. Her body would hurt soon enough, she was quite sure, but, for the moment at least, her muscles were fully loose and limber.
She stood there, hunched over, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath, the sounds of the spectators loud in her ears, almost rivaling the thundering of her pulse. Finally, she stood up and expanded her chest, rolling her shoulders back and taking a deep breath, forcing her heart to slow, at least a little. The eliteswere there, all five of their teams looking quite fresh considering what they’d just been through.
Of course, Dorrin had already keyed her in on their subtle method of cheating. Even just a little knowledge of the course ahead of time could allow one to seemingly innocently avoid the more difficult areas. The rest of the competitors weren’t so lucky.
Hands slammed into Ziana’s back.
“Hey!”
“You tripped me!”
It was Drammala, the violet-skinned woman’s orange eyes blazing with anger.
“And you punched me,” Ziana shot back. “Try that again and I’ll do more than throw a hip.”
“Oh, you just try.”
The two men looked at one another and shared a nod with an almost bored camaraderie. “Ladies,” Gorrum said. “Please. Let us save the aggression forduringevents, not after them.”
“He is right,” Dorrin added, nodding to the officials whose attention was now directed their way. “We do not want to be penalized for something so foolish, wouldn’t you agree?”
It wasn’t a question.
Gorrum nodded and put his arm around his partner’s shoulders, leading her away, leaving Ziana and her teammate to watch the other competitors slowly trickle in. A few looked pretty strong, but many were clearly out of their depth, and some were even bloody as they made their way into the arena.
A gong sounded, the crowd’s cheers shifting to quieter murmurs. Dorrin turned toward the exit tunnel.
“Wait. What about the others? Maria’s still out there.”
“Your friend is done. She did not meet the cutoff requirement.”
“What do you mean, done? It’s only the first race.”
“Yes. And this is how the games progress. Every event thins the herd. You didn’t think there would be dozens of teams the whole time, did you? That would be absurd.”
Ziana felt a rush of worry hit her like a punch to the gut. “But what’s going to happen to her?”
“She and her partner will be taken to the losers’ area. There they will be unbound from one another and any replacements or those wagering indenture will be separated into individual cells.”
“Cells? Like cages?”
“More or less. There will be no luxury for the losers. Most are normal competitors and will simply go back to their lives, but she was one of those whose freedom was on the line. A replacement. And as a loser, she will either serve in one of the five households to pay off her indenture, or she’ll be sold to serve another. Either way, you will not be there to see. They are held quite separate from the rest of us.”
“But it’s not fair.”
He snort-laughed. “The games have nothing to do withfairness, and you need to accept that if we are to advance. Typically, the early events are less about finesse and tactics than speed, strength, and agility. These are things the commoners can more easily relate to, drawing them into the games and encouraging more betting. And once they are hooked, they will stay quite engaged all the way until the end. Now, let’s get cleaned up and eat. We have both burned a lot of energy today.”
“Wait, I see Maria! She’s coming in. Her partner is limping!”
