“Soulbond. I don't like?—”
“No Bellator,” She tugs on the collar, her fingers wrapping around, pulling me forward. “If this is going to work between us, you need to…”
Click.
The front half of the collar swings open, my neck exposed as it slides down my back, resting between where my body and the couch meet.
“What just happened?” Rosie freezes.
“Steve,” I growl. We talk with no words.
Immediately, he picks Rosie up, placing her by the bed, standing in front of her, blocking her from view. I can hear her protests, but I'm not bothered.She’s safe.
With caution, I turn and extract the open metal ring, examining it in detail while being careful not to activate its power. I still have no clue how he controls it, but seeing as there are no guards storming our suite, the Emperor is unawares it has been removed.
It looks like there are two half circles, held together with a hinge on one side and a lock on the other. With it removed, I can now see the small hole that you would require either a key or some sort of small hook to release the mechanism. Something like one of Rosie's fingers. She is so much smaller than an orc, or even the imps of the city, that there is no way they could have known my bonded would be capable of opening it.
This changes everything.
Holding it in front of me, I bring the two ends together slowly, waiting for the click of the lock.
Wait a minute?
I close it again, and nothing. No click, no alert that it’s locked, just nothing.
“Rosie, could you come here, please?”
“Finally,” she says, ducking under Steve's arm.
“I am going to reattach this around my neck. You see this small hole here? I need you to find it and press the release button if it locks.”
Her eyes are wide as she looks between Steve and me. “What happens if I can't open it again? I don't like this Bellator.”
Reaching out for her hand, I gently rub it, pulling her in between my legs and holding her against my chest. “If it works how I think it does, then this gives us a chance to end this the right way. You need to earn the sway of the impish. The Emperor does not have it, and we will not achieve it by storming his high towers.”
“This is madness.” She trembles.
I place the collar around my neck, showing her the small hole where the button will form once closed. It feels three times its weight when I fasten it, and the click cements its place back around my throat. They must really hate our kind if it only locks around my neck.A collar for their pet.
Tentatively, her fingers trace along my jaw before I feel her hand move under my chin and around the cool metal. Her brow dips as she concentrates on her task, her tongue peaking out just slightly as her small human fingers once again find the release button and the collar swings open.
“We need to form a plan.” I rush out. A world of opportunity opening up to us.
Awhooshsound comes from behind Steve, and we all look to see the familiar red and gold envelope slide from beneath the door, making it halfway into the room.
We need to form a plannow, because it may already be too late.
Chapter 22
Rosalind
The envelope sits heavy in Bellator's hands, the collar once again securely fastened around his neck. Despite my opposition, I understand that appearances need to be kept, and we don't know if the Emperor has something worse up his sleeve. A new tournament has been announced, and as expected, he has been personally chosen by the Emperor to be the star Gladiator fighting an unknown opponent. A flyer was attached to the notice, along with an invitation for Steve and I to attend. It has a crudely drawn image of Bellator's screaming face, his jagged tusk reinforcing the idea of the dangerous warrior. I see now how stories are told of him. Compared to Steve, he is a large presence. He commands the attention of the room, not just with his strength but with feeling. He seems to treat everyone equally, regardless of their status, even the Emperor.
The flyer says his opponent is a creature of the Gods, no doubt a marketing ploy to drum up interest. It's weird when I see the parallels between Earth and Hell. Finding the same tactics used to deceive people. Like we could ever want to do something without being manipulated and coerced into it. Not saying those who want to go see the tournament are wrong, but it can get tiring being told what to like and when. In my old life, technology, fashion, and cosmetics were all approved interests. Now in this life, I'm being told once again, albeit in a more subtle way.
I don't want to see Bellator fight, especially against some unknown creature, but if I don't go, if I don't consume what I'm told to like, I could be missing out, and I hate myself for even thinking it.
“Come, Soulbound. Steve,” Bellator says, his cloak fluttering out as he turns swiftly. “This is not something to dwell on. We will go and find food. I have a craving for some Sabor ribs.”
