Chapter 13

The last time I was this angry, I was taken prisoner by my now husband’s alien race.

“What do you think happened to the rest of your fleet?” I ask him, slightly queasy at the thought.

“I hope to find out soon,” he answers.

My knees buckle as the collar shocks me, horrible pain biting all the way down my spine.

The alien yells something at the same time, and Lyko grabs my shoulder to keep me from falling.

“No talking,” the human woman tells me miserably.

With her hands, though, she signs, These fucking bastards. Tell me you’ll kill them. We haven’t had a Roth. I remember what they did to Earth.

Who do you have?I sign back. I remember what Roth did to Earth, too.

She’s signing as she walks, and I’m rusty, but I didn’t get hired at the amusement park because I was the prettiest to audition for a princess spot. No, they loved that I was fluent in sign language. And now it might just be enough to save my life.

At the very least, being able to communicate secretly with the translator could give us an edge, and I will fucking cling to that shred of hope with every last fiber of my being.

You can do more than hope,a voice echoes in my head.

Oh, you’re back? Great. Tell me how to get the fuck out of here.

Where is the fun in that?The asshole goddess laughs again, and I decide I don’t have time for her particular brand of bullshit right now.

The translator’s stopped signing, and I focus on trying to memorize where the hell they’re leading us.

There are huge blue-maned lion alien guards everywhere, and they don’t so much as flinch as we walk by. There are cells, some empty, some occupied. A few Suevans, lots of humans, and some aliens I’ve never seen before. No one does more than bat an eyelash when we walk by.

The sense of despair is overwhelming.

Where the hell are we?

I’m not sure that memorizing where we are is going to do anything to help. I don’t know how Lyko and I could fight our way through this many aliens, not without his energy manipulation. Not without weapons.

Fuck.

My stomach flips, and the inside of my cheeks are raw from being bitten nervously.

Should have gone with the damned Arco.

Guilt twists through me at the thought, and I glance sidelong at my husband, who’s as stoic and regal as ever.

I’ve seen his truth, though. He’s as feral as I am, and just as good at hiding it.

I might be headed for some serious shit on a scary-ass alien planet, but at least he’s at my side.

The hallway of cells finally, blessedly ends.

The blue alien yells something, and the human servant looks back at us with a bleak look, her fingers moving double time.

“Now you will be sold to a sponsor. They will determine your fights, and winning means you will move up in the hierarchy of fighters.”

Sold. Fights.

I want to close my eyes. I want to cry. But I’m trying to catch everything her hands are telling me.

There is a golden alien here. He is from—I miss the word she uses—outside. Political rivals to the—I miss that one, too. I will signal to him. He is trying to save us, to stop this mad slaughter.

“Present yourselves well,” she continues translating, eyes on the floor. “And you will find glory and honor in the arena. You will surpass the meager beginnings of your species, if you have the heart.”

Her fingers tell a different story, though.

Everyone dies,they say. You have to live. You have to get me out of here.

She doesn’t look back, though, and a moment later, her fingers fall limp by her side.

It looks like we’re all just clinging to hope as hard as we can.

I take a deep breath and focus on the room they’ve led us into. It’s massive and brutal, all slick gray stone, cold against my bare feet. The ruins of my dress swish and tangle around my legs, soaked in purple blood. Remnants of my own blood and gold paint stick to my skin, where the markings of Lyko’s mating swirl beneath it.

I have no idea what I look like, but I feel like I want to burn it all to the ground.

There are aliens all around. More of the blue-maned lions, but red and green and silver too, all packed in and standing on risers.

A deep indigo alien sits at the end of the room, watching us with interest.

He’s in charge,her hands say. “Do not look him in the eye,” the human woman says out loud.

Lyko growls next to me. We’re both half-wild with anger, and despite whatever the cuff on his biceps is doing, heat emanates off him.

The alien in charge stands, and I do my best not to follow the translator’s directives.

A string of incoherent words erupts out of him, cutting through all the murmuring in the room.

I look to the translator for any kind of sign as to what’s happening.

Her shoulders tremble in fear.

It doesn’t inspire confidence.

The alien keeps talking, a mix of harsh consonant sounds and guttural rolling noises. The aliens all around us nod appreciatively.

Finally, he falls silent.

Lyko takes my hand.

I squeeze it.

I’ve never been so glad I’m not alone.

Another blue-maned alien shouts something, and then chaos unfurls as aliens throughout the room begin stamping their feet and shouting, too.

“Bidding,” the translator whispers.

It lasts an eternity. I want to melt into the floor. It lasts ten seconds.

The leader of the aliens points at someone, and for a moment, I feel sick, because this one isn’t the gold one the translator told us to watch out for.

Then he moves to the side, looking behind him.

The gold-maned lion alien nods gravely at the two of us.

That’s the only look we get at our new sponsor before the blue-maned guards set upon us, circling up.

The translator slips away, her hands moving fast.

Good luck,they say. Survive.

As if I would consider any alternative.

I toss my hair over my shoulder and let the alien guards push us out of the room. Some hold long spears that sizzle with energy, and I sincerely doubt getting an alien cattle prod up the ass would improve my mood.

“We’re not going out the same hallway,” I say, a sick sense of foreboding settling through me.

A voice in my head laughs. “Shut the fuck up,” I tell the Roth goddess.

Lyko squeezes my hand, glancing down at me with concern. “Who?”

“Your goddess thinks this is funny.”

“You can communicate with her, despite the collar?” He hisses as one of the guards sticks him with the prod.

Quick as a flash, he turns, grabbing the prod from the guard’s hands and twirling it around.

“No, Lyko,” I cry out, and then I’m hit with a prod, too. The pain is blinding, making my toenails curl into the glossy stone floor. My knees crash to the ground, hands splayed out in front of me.

A drop of blood lands on my knuckles.

Lyko’s broken the prod he took in two, and the pieces fly across the room, at the leader.

Blue flashes as the alien guard surrounds him, and I choke on a desperate sob as I kneel on all fours, helpless, as they light him up.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” I whisper, too limp to do more than quietly threaten.

Lyko laughs as the energy spears hit him.

I blink up at him. The spears don’t seem to be bothering him as much as they fucked me up. Lucky bastard.

Lyko bends, and he picks me up, running for the door they were moving us toward.

Light is blinding as we make it through the passage. The blue guards stop short of the door, which begins to close behind us.

My head lolls against Lyko’s shoulder, his skin soft and so, so warm. “I’m tired,” I tell him.

“No,” he growls in my ear. “You are not allowed to sleep yet. Show me how vicious you can be, human wife, because it’s time to taste the blood of our enemies.”

I’m so tired.

A drumbeat picks up, a bass line so heavy it rocks me to the marrow.

“You must stand.” Lyko’s voice is a snarl, his words full of anger and threat. It makes me angry to hear him talk to me like that.

He puts me on the ground, the dirt sinking slightly beneath my bare feet. Sand, but not quite. Like wet sand, it sucks at the soles of my feet and my toes, pulling at me.

“Are you too weak to survive, wife?” he goads me, pushing at one shoulder. “Are you too weak to be my mate?”

The drumbeat gets faster, and my pain and fear turn to rage.

I turn around, standing straighter to face him. “I am too strong to be just a wife,” I snap.

The drumbeat ceases, and finally, the roar of the crowd overtakes it.

The ground shakes, rumbling, the intensity of the pulling at my feet even worse.

“What the—” I stumble back in surprise, and Lyko grabs my upper arm to keep me from falling flat on my ass. I smack into his chest instead, and he wraps his arm around my waist, holding me tight.

The last time we were body-to-body like this, there were no clothes between us.

The thought sends a shiver of heat through me—a shiver that turns to icy fear in the span of a heartbeat.

The sand and dirt beneath my toes are colder, too. Wet.

My breath stops, and I stare around me in a mix of disbelief and terror.

The arena is shifting around us, the landscape turning from flat dirt to… swamp. Greenery emerges, alien trees rising where nothing was before. Overhead, the sun wanes, as though this was timed with its fast descent in the sky. Lights flare on overhead, enough for the spectators to see by.

Not nearly enough for me to see with.

“This is not ideal,” Lyko says, his voice a warm whisper against the curve of my ear.

All I can do is watch. I can’t even speak.

The odds of us getting out of here alive seem to dwindle more with every second.

Mist forms, so thick it seems solid in places, hanging heavy over the briny water. In the distance, yellow eyes the size of saucers glow in the gloom.

“Fucking hell,” I murmur. “We’re supposed to fight in this? With what? My teeth? Shit.”

“I do not recommend using your teeth,” Lyko says absently. He’s peering into the murk, and the tension in his massive shoulders doesn’t do much to relieve my fears. The ground shakes again, waves of water shoving toward us from what has to be the center of the arena.

“That’s not good.” I’m breathing hard already, my heart hammering fast.

“We need to get out of the water. Fast.” Lyko’s voice is growl, but I hear the worry in it loud and clear.

Whatever he thinks is in the arena with us, he’s afraid of it. If Lyko is concerned, then I sure as shit should be concerned.

“Where?” I ask, my gaze darting around.

“Can you climb?” He jerks his chin at a tree covered in vines that I’m certain wasn’t there a few seconds ago.

The drums start again, a slow, pounding beat that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Another wave of water sloshes against my knees.

A scream pierces through the sound of the crowd, only to be cut off as abruptly as it began.

Something huge rumbles out there in the murk, a primal noise of victory punctuated by the roar of the crowd.

“We need to move,” he urges.

He didn’t need to say shit. I’m already moving as fast as I can through the water, which isn’t nearly fast enough.

My skirts are soaked and heavy, and I’m not moving nearly fast enough to appease the sheer terror running through me. Every step is a battle, the muck underneath the water sucking at my feet and the weighty dress. Finally, I get to the tree, and Lyko’s already there, hauling himself up. He holds a hand out to me, but when I grab at him, cold sweat slicking my palm, he can’t pull me up.

“It’s this fucking dress,” I say, doing everything I can not to panic.

Panic will get you get killed.

They drilled it into us in the Federation.

Something splashes nearby, and a whimper leaves my lips.

“Hurry, wife,” Lyko snarls.

I take the fabric of the bodice in both hands, already ruined, and rip it straight down. Another shimmy, and the red wedding gown floats behind me in the water. Then Lyko is trying to haul me up to safety in the thick-trunked tree.

Something thick and slimy brushes the sole of my foot, bumping it as he pulls me out of the swamp. I clap a hand over my own mouth to keep from making any noise.

I don’t know why, but making noise right now seems like the worst idea possible—second to being in the water.

Lyko holds me against him in the branches, keeping me upright.

Yellow eyes glow softly in the mist swirling on top of the water, and a half second later, a massive splash sounds, a wave pummeling the tree.

A scrap of red fabric is all that’s left of my dress.

Lyko’s arms are the only thing keeping me upright.

Don’t panic, they told us, over and over again. Most alien species can sense fear. You have to be the master of your mind and body.

I doubt any of those fucking trainers were ever abandoned in an alien arena with some kind of monster swimming beneath them.

I don’t know how much time has passed with me shivering in a bodysuit next to Lyko by the time the triple alien moons rise over the arena, illuminating the horrors in front of us just enough to make my stomach twist.

But it’s not enough light to really see by.

Another scream sounds, but this time, it’s not cut off. It goes on and on, ending in sobs that eventually cease.

Fuck panic.

I am not dying like this, like some poor animal hunted for sport.

I will not let panic win.

Now—now? I’m mad.

Furious.

Who fucking does this shit? Who pulls ships out of warp just to throw the unlucky travelers into a nightmare? For fun?

Oh, I will burn this motherfucker down.

My teeth chatter from the night’s chill air, and Lyko pulls me closer, his heartbeat slow and strong.

“Your scent has changed.”

I know exactly what he means. “I’m angry.”

“Good.” He gives me a long look, and I realize I’m basically naked and wet and on top of him. And it literally could not be less sexy.

This is survival.

“What is it?” I finally whisper.

“Something that belongs on Sueva. Not here.”

“How the hell did they get a Suevan… anything?”

He gives me a long look. “The settlements were far flung. Some took creatures of their world with them. This one should not have been removed. Ever.”

Some of the mist rising off the water dissipates, the moons reflecting on the surface. The water’s so quiet and peaceful now I can almost imagine I’m somewhere else.

The moons split, the water disrupted.

A thick, spiked tail easily as big around as my whole body slashes through the swamp, then quickly disappears.

“Reptile,” I repeat weakly. “Giant man-eating crocodile.”

“Man and Roth,” Lyko agrees.

I glance away from the water, at the stands all around us. The spectators are harder to see from inside the arena. There must be some kind of force field protecting them.

I swallow hard, hunger gnawing at me. How long has it been since I ate? At the rate I’m shivering, I’m burning calories like crazy. Lyko’s body heat helps, but it’s not enough. I need food, and I need clothes, and I’m already sick of this bullshit.

I grew up in Florida. I’ve never minded alligators—but crocodiles are a whole different ballgame.

They’re mean, they’re smart, and they’ll eat anything. They’re at the top of the food chain for a reason, and that’s on Earth.

Here? One this size? Fuck that.

“We have to kill it. I don’t think this is a game of outlasting it.” I glance over at him, and he’s watching me carefully.

“How?” he asks. “I can’t access my energy manipulation. We have no weapons.”

It’s a legitimate question, and as much as it irks me, he’s not being a killjoy.

“We need a plan.”

“It sounds like my clever, sneaky wife has an idea.” There’s a note of appreciation in the words.

I can’t help but smile a little at it. At the pride in the word wife.

“It depends on how much my royal husband is prepared to risk.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Nearly everything,” he says gravely. “For you? Nearly everything.”

“Promise me something,” I say suddenly, my fingers tightening on his upper leg. At some point, he draped his shirt over me, and while it’s not doing much to keep me warm in the night air, I can’t say I’m mad about having to look at his muscled torso.

Even in the most dire of situations, a girl can look.

“What? What would you have me promise?”

“We don’t die here. We make it out.”

He considers me, the moonlight a caress on his gray skin, highlighting the sharp contours of his inhuman face. Cheekbones too high. Jaw too rugged. Everything too much—yet just right.

He’s a handsome male, my husband.

“We make it out,” he says solemnly.

“Together,” I insist.

“Together. We leave this place together…” He angles his head at me. “I have one condition.”

I blink. “What? Why?”

“Kiss me.”

My eyebrows rocket up. “Kiss you?”

“That is my condition.”

I huff a quiet laugh, my breath clouding the air between our faces. Our faces, which, I’m noticing for the first time, are incredibly close already.

“I’m covered in swamp gunk.” I motion to said gunky ankle. “My breath probably stinks, and you want to bargain our survival on a kiss?”

“What better bargain to make?” He shrugs a shoulder, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. “What better time to make it? If I don’t live to see tomorrow, at least I will die knowing the last thing of life I tasted was you.”

I never thought the most romantic thing I would ever hear in my life would be spoken to me while I was perched on a tree in a swamp and by the alien king I married, but here I am.

“Okay,” I tell him, my voice breathy.

He smiles, and it’s quick and vicious. Then his mouth’s on mine, and I wish we were anywhere but here. Lyko kisses me furiously, like a man who’s already dying, like I’m the miracle that could save us both.

And maybe it’s stupid, or hormones, or sheer adrenaline, but when he pulls away?

I stare into his dark gold-and-orange speckled eyes and wonder if what we have between us might be more than just chemistry and a marriage of convenience.

It feels like I might have something more to live for.