Chapter 10

Asharp ache like nothing I’ve ever felt before tugs at my awareness. There’s a bitter taste in my mouth, unfamiliar and unwelcome. My thoughts are foggy, heavy, and the edge of sleep beckons me back toward it.

There’s something soft and warm on my other side, and the knowledge sets off a claxon of alarm bells. I fight the siren’s call of more sleep, trying to open my eyes. Trying to figure out why the body on my other side is important.

The answer hits me like an airship, and my eyes fly open on impact.

My wife.

My queen.

I can’t talk, can hardly move, but I do my best to glance around. Whatever took me out has also knocked Piper out, and she’s curled up beside me, the coppery scent of her human blood filling my nostrils.

Rage rends the remnants of sleep from my body, but I lie still, unsure of where we are, of who’s taken us, of anything that’s happened.

My wife is injured.

Something calls out in a language I don’t understand, and then more voices fill the fray. All male. All older. And judging from the depth of their tone, they’re large.

As for the words, my translator fails me, as does any of my own recognition of their speech patterns.

Whatever these aliens are, they’ve successfully abducted Piper and me—and I don’t have a clue as to why.

Piper stirs in her sleep, the wound on her shoulder trickling blood.

My lip curls in a snarl, and then a flash of pain goes through the aching place in my biceps. At the same moment, one of the watching aliens shouts some kind of command.

At me, I realize.

I make my head move, looking at the place of pain on my arm. Something vile cuts into my gray skin, a dark black ore that emits another shock as the aliens outside my cell yell at one another.

My muscles are sluggish, slow to respond, and it only amplifies my anger.

Another spark of pain stabs through my arm, then another. I grit my teeth, clawing at where the band bites into my skin. I never thought I’d wish for the hard scaled hide of the Suevans we so recently made peace with, but here I am.

Piper moans, and I stop trying to rip the wretched device from my arm to study her. The wound on her back isn’t too bad. Though still bleeding and bruised, it’s clotted and doesn’t seem to have her in immediate danger.

There’s no band on her arm, and relief sweeps through me, staggering me.

Until she moans again, her elegant hands going to her neck.

Her neck, where a black band wraps around, digging into the pale flesh there.

“I’ll fucking kill them all.” I start to stand, ignoring the waves of pain from the gods-damned armband.

I try to collect my fire, ready to burn our way out of whatever the fuck this place is, to take vengeance on those that made my wife bleed. I couldn’t help her. Shame fills me. I never should have allowed our marriage to happen. I made her a target, and I will never forgive myself for that.

Nothing happens. Fuck. Where are my flames when I need them?

The aliens outside stare, and I stare right back. They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen. Bluish skin on their faces, their eyes set far apart, giving them a slightly avian cast. Bigger than most Roths I’ve seen, they tower at least seven feet tall. It’s their hair, though, that’s the most striking.

Not hair, I amend, watching them.

Manes. They have purplish-blue manes, though the colors seem to shift as they move. The hairs themselves stand out like the gravity of this place has no effect on them.

Their noses are flatter than that of the Roth or humans, though they are built similarly to us. As far as I can see, they don’t have tails, which I prefer after sparring with some of the Suevans.

Tails are tricky in a fight.

The absurdity of that thought tears a manic laugh from my throat, and the maned aliens all cock their heads at me as one.

As if I’m going to be able to fight them. They took my new wife and me captive without a hitch.

Movement catches my eye, and Piper sits up, her blue eyes huge as her fingers gently inspect the black band embedded in her flesh.

“What are they?” she asks. There’s no softness in the question. No fear.

No, my wife sounds angry.

Furious.

“I don’t know, but I am willing to find out if they bleed.”

“They bleed purple,” she says, a snarl in her voice.

I turn to look at her fully, surprised at her words.

She grins up at me, and I don’t even see the Piper I thought I knew in her face at all. No, this female looks… bloodthirsty. Ready for vengeance.

“How do you?—”

“I cut one’s legs off before they took me.”

“Oh.” I blink. “Good for you.”

“What’s the plan?” she asks, slowly getting to her feet, looking around. “How are we getting out of here?” She turns, inspecting the back of our cell, something I haven’t done yet. “Motherfucking fucker fuck face,” she says under her breath.

The strange aliens have gone back to arguing about us, apparently. I squint as a flash of metal shines in the harsh light, exchanging hands as they barter.

“Do you think they intend to make us slaves? They appear to be exchanging money.”

“Of a sort,” Piper answers in a grim voice.

“What do you mean?” I ask. The back of her dress is torn from the waist up, and the bruise and laceration look even worse from this angle.

“Look for yourself.” She points at the back of the cell, and I slowly turn to take it in.

The back wall is made of transparent material, something thick and soundproof, unlike the wall in front of us.

Beyond it, a huge beige stadium rings a massive dirt courtyard, and thousands of the maned aliens appear to be cheering in the stands.

Something whips by the wall, and I swear as I realize it’s not a courtyard.

The dirt’s littered with broken corpses, for one.

It’s a fucking arena, and the things racing past our wall appear to be gladiators.