“So is delaying any further. I will win. I always do.”
There was nothing else to say so I left her with my brothers and didn’t turn around even when I felt her gaze boring holes into my back. Valtus joined me as the matches allowed for one trainer. I was signed up and walking into the cage as the crowd erupted in roars and chants. My name was well respected and feared among the gladiators. It hadn’t been that manyspansince I took part in these sadistic and cruel fights to the death.
Suspended high in the air, I watched as bets were placed on the survivor. Those who picked me were smart. They would win a lot of credits. My only concern was securing the fee we needed to escape Altos. I would not allow any fighter to win. Kerra had to leave this planet tonight. Failure wasn’t an option. Her life was literally in my hands.
Defeat never entered my mind.
The first challenger was a Tylon. Right away, I thought it was a joke but then he rushed forward and tried to wrap those tentacles around my arms. Pissed off at his sloppy and goopy approach, I sliced through his tentacles one by one as the audience below was showered with fishy smelling goo. Shouts rang louder as I picked him up and slammed his body down repeatedly. Tired of his stinky odor, I finally shoved a fat tentacle down his throat and roared when he sputtered fluid and convulsed, dying a brutal death while he choked on his own flesh. Just like the audience craved.
More gore equaled more credits.
The second challenger was a reptilian fighter. The Ravelians were lizard-like creatures with forked tongues that hissed before each attack and carried a deadly venom in their fangs. This gladiator had won because he was fast and used his toxins to paralyze his victims before he tore their limbs from their bodies and ripped out their hearts.
I wouldn’t be as simple to kill.
The first time he charged he made the mistake of lashing out with that tongue and I sliced it off as he screeched and gushed blood through the metal bars. The fangs were more deadly, so I danced and played the game as I hacked away at his limbs. He was covered in cuts by the time I sliced open his throat. He bled out on his knees as his blood dripped from the cage in rivulets. I roared again in triumph as canisters were raised into the air to catch the precious fluid as his body was drained of all life.
Two of three matches were complete.
Never once did I dare to look at Kerra. I knew if I did, I would lose all my remaining focus.
The final challenger I had never met before, but I was familiar with the race. Tandorians were among the fiercest and most lethal of the gladiator fighters. Their bronze skin was covered in tiny barbs instead of hair and incredibly sharp. One brush against their exterior caused those pincers to grasp and tug while ripping and shredding their opponent into pieces.
These matches never lasted long. The challengers were quick to die and often eviscerated in front of the crowd while the Tandorian ate the heart and liver. Not the most pleasant way to die.
I stood with my feet shoulder width apart and awaited the Tandorian’s attack. I needed to spot his weaknesses almost instantly if I had any hope for survival. He was lean and tall but favored his right side as if he was in a recent match. He probably came from another planet and was greedy for more credits. His decision would be costly. Not allowing his body time to heal properly meant he wasn’t as fast as he normally would have been.
I avoided his attacks easily and kept free of the barbs. My claws served their purpose and swiped at his body with quick and vicious cuts. Some of these slices were so deep they exposed bone and muscle. Blood dripped down his body as the crowd whipped into a frenzy. Tandorian blood was a delicacy for the exact reasons I described. It was rarely obtained.
My focus concentrated on his injured side and I stabbed my claws into his torso, lifting his frame into the air above my head by their strength alone. The crowd grew wilder, chanting ‘death’in so many languages I was unable to count. The Tandorian howled and twitched as his body was smashed against the bars and his organs were crushed. I slid my claw through the thickest vein in his neck and pulled as I ripped his throat out. Blood splashed the cage, my body, and anyone within the vicinity. The crowd chanted my name as the cage lowered, and I roared my victory in front of them all. Yes, I named my battle cruiser after my victorious warrior name.
“Vindicator! Vindicator!”
The crowd didn’t silence until long after I left the arena.
Once the credits were in my hands, I was ushered out the secret back entrance where Kerra and the others awaited. I quickly covered my shoulders with the cloak before she launched herself into my arms. With the blood of my enemies on my hands, I was reluctant to touch my female. Fatigue pressed in but I fought my body and the need for rest. There would be time for that later.
My arm was bruised, and the muscles were torn in spots, but I’d lived with far worse pain as a soldier. Only last year I had been sent to the medical bay because of my fight with another Tandorian. My flesh had taken a beating. At least now my fight served a purpose. My victory was hard won but proved I was strong and courageous. Legend of the fight would spread, and the prowess of my people would be heralded among those who doubted our ability to govern within the Galactic Conclave.
Braxtharians were the most famous warriors in any system, among all fifty-one species.
Tonight proved that statement was true.
The smuggler’s vessel was waiting in docking bay B53 as promised. I led Kerra up the ramp and into the ship as my men protected us from all angles. The smuggler was a being of few words, but he started the engines immediately and we were soon on our way to Vindar. Orion sat with him on the bridge to avoid any treachery while Rexnor stood guard with me and Kerra. Valtus was quick to take charge of the crew and followed my orders, ensuring every warrior was given clear instruction.
Kerra pushed me into a vacant seat as soon as we were able and never moved from my side as we left the atmosphere and entered deep space. She cleaned my wounds and I washed in the silence that followed. Only once Altos was far behind us did anyone relax.
Our eyes met and my hearts squeezed with the knowledge that I would soon have to hand her over to the council. My mission was nearly complete. Nine months, three weeks, and four days since I left my home planet in search of captive human females who were marked. My entire existence could be summed up in the last week. To be precise, since the moment I met myone.
“Motok, what will you do, brother?” Orion traded places with Valtus as myFirstmade his way to the bridge. My eldest brother wasn’t happy with my obvious infatuation with the human, but he understood. Long ago, he’d lost his own mate. The devastation left him a changed man. He was hard, cynical, and restless. Only a warrior’s life offered any hope of satisfaction in a future without love, affection, or offspring.
Braxtharians mated for life. We never gave our hearts twice.
Rexnor remained silent but I saw the curiosity in his gaze. He was also concerned about my decisions.
Reverting to an old dialect the translator wouldn’t be equipped to decipher I spoke without hesitation. “I will return the female to Vindar and the council and leave her to the destiny ordained by the Galactic Conclave. The hope of our people rests on her shoulders. One set of hearts doesn’t change the inevitable outcome.”
Orion nodded briskly, turning away. He knew my pain and preferred not to prolong it for either of us. His silence and lack of judgment meant more than any words he could have spoken.
