Izzy

IZZY

“ I ’m not going to touch you,” I say carefully, keeping a distance between me and this enormous male and my hands tucked behind my back.

His fists have uncurled, revealing vicious claws. Each one has to be six inches in length and razor sharp. He hasn’t moved other than confirming to me he is absolutely as dangerous as he looks.

And I very much want to live.

“Don’t touch,” he growls.

Okay…a male of few words.

“My name is .” I put my hand to my chest. “I’m one of the, um…” I search for a suitable term, given he obviously doesn’t want pleasure and I don’t want my heart ripped from my chest, “…servants here. Perhaps I can get you something?”

A creature like this can’t be allowed out on his own, surely? Someone will be coming. Yelii will raise the alarm, she has too.

“Like a bath,” I say without thinking. “Or something to eat.”

The male turns towards me, feathers swishing. I freeze under his dark-eyed gaze. He is absolutely magnificent. Broad shouldered, each abdominal muscle clearly defined, running down to a delicious “v” at his waist, the rest of him poured into a pair of tight pants which cling to every part of his hard, defined thighs.

The tattoos from his back continue over the rest of his body, glyph after glyph pouring over the skin of his chest, abdomen, and arms. They continue down past his waistband, and I find myself wondering where they stop.

Don’t touch, !

He growls. I take a step back involuntarily.

“Food,” he says in his rich as sin voice. “Bath?”

“Yes, you can bathe if you want. In fact, it’s encouraged.” I nod enthusiastically.

Well, he does have a sort of…crust…on him.

He narrows his eyes. “No touching?”

“You’ll be entirely on your own, I promise,” I reply.

It’s something I can virtually guarantee because whatever he did to Yelii, she will ensure no one else will have anything to do with him.

“Bath.” He sighs, some of the tension leaving his body.

“This way.” I point at the rear of the cubicle, past the big bed.

His eyes narrow again, looking suspiciously at the piece of furniture and me.

“And once you’re done, maybe some food? I bet a big guy like you loves to eat, don’t you?” I say, attempting to be coquettish and instead sounding like I’m simple.

He snorts.

“I eat,” he says in that wicked voice which goes right to parts it really shouldn’t be going. After all, he did nearly kill Yelii.

“Okay.” I clap my hands, and he rears back as if I’ve struck him.

For an instant, we stare at each other.

“The bath is through here.” I nearly trip over my own feet in my haste to get to the door and reveal the deep, luxurious sanitary facility.

I stand back as he fills the door, sniffing the air like a predator. Then, in a rush, he’s through the door and stripping off his pants. I shut it quickly. Otherwise I’m going to see far more of this gladiator than I’m ready to see.

“What are you doing?” The Madame is stood in the center of the cubicle, hands on her hips.

“He…Yelii…” I stutter, not quite knowing where to start, but she cuts me off.

“Fresh from the dome, that’s what they sent us. A feral gladiator fresh from the gakking dome.” She spits. “I don’t care how much they’re paying us to get him used to being touched, he’s going back.”

From the sanitary facility, there’s the sound of splashing. Which is both out of place and weirdly comforting, like the creature in there isn’t a killer after all.

“What is he doing?” she says in a loud whisper, leaning in to me.

“Having a bath.” I shrug. “He said he wanted one, and food too.”

Madame taps one of her fat fingers to her lips and looks sideways at me. “He wants food. From you.”

“Not from me exactly. I offered and he accepted.”

“You’ll be wanting your first customer, no doubt.” Her piggy eyes glitter. “How about this one?”

My insides go into free fall. Madame would absolutely do this to me, throw me to an alien predator without any compunction at all.

“He’s only here so he gets used to being touched, so you don’t have to perform any other service ,” she says coldly. “That is if he doesn’t want to. An easy assignment for your first client. A gentle introduction if you will.”

I’ve seen his claws—this is no gentle introduction.

“I want fifty percent.” I put my hand on my hips.

Madame straightens and purses her lips. She wants the dome’s trade, that much is not in doubt, but does she want it enough?

“Agreed,” she says finally. “Fifty percent but his food comes out of your portion, not mine. Gryn eat a lot.”

“Done,” I reply.

“You have two nova-hours until they come to collect him.” She looks at her comm device. “And he’ll be returned here each day after the games.”

“How long?” I ask.

A vicious, nasty smile spreads over her lips. “For as long as it takes, or until he eats you, whichever comes sooner.”