Alex
ALEX
S ylas and Maxym are so different as gladiators. Whereas Sylas is heavily scarred, Maxym has very little evidence on his skin of their mutual profession. He's a little shorter than Sylas and bulkier. His eyes are haunted though, like Sylas, but instead he's more guarded, more prepared to pretend he's something he's not. His wings are darker, and it reflects the darkness I can see in him in the same way Sylas reflects the light.
Maxym wants to appear carefree, except he is anything but. All these Gryn seem to have tortured souls.
Sylas is absolutely not impressed at his attempts to be friendly either. But then this is the male who just did things to a room in Ginka's apartment which should not have been possible.
His nest .
It was like a party, a Bedouin tent and a disco all rolled into one. He'd even put little glittery things all around the bed, which was made into a shallow cup to contain us both. Sylas had spent some considerable effort and had done it all while I was sleeping.
I genuinely don't know what is happening, but my entire being is telling me I need to stay with him. Is this love? I don't know. But leaving Sylas would tear me apart.
"What do you mean I need to get out of Tatatunga?" Sylas fires at Maxym, who gingerly lowers himself into another chair.
Given the state of the other one in the far corner, I suspect he's already had issues with the furniture in the same way Sylas did.
The Gryn are big males, even if they aren't exactly heavy.
"The resistance wants you."
"The vrexers who attacked the dome and my mate? Why?" Sylas growls, and starts to pace.
"I don't know. I happened to overhear the procurator shouting about it," Maxym says. "He didn't expand on any reason."
Sylas stops pacing, glares at him, and starts again.
"I don't belong to anyone," he snarls. "Least of all a group who wants to take me by force."
"Which is why I suggest you leave. We can cover for you. By the time the procurator realizes you're missing, you can be long gone, far away from his clutches and that of this resistance, whoever they are. The dome owners might even think they have you," Maxym says, his feathers shivering. "And the council."
It seems to work. Sylas stops pacing in front of him, studies his fellow gladiator, brow furrowed, for a while before his eyes find me and soften.
"What do you think, little feather?" He stalks past Maxym, and I have a hulk of muscle and feather standing in front of me like a wall.
"I think either Ixor will think I'm dead, or he'll come for me, and you too." Boldness rises within me. "I know where he keeps some credits. We could take those and leave. He might think he owns me, but for all I've done, he owes me instead."
Maxym bursts out laughing, and I nearly get knocked over by a set of wings given how fast Sylas turns.
"You think this one needs credits?" Maxym cackles. "He's got plenty," he adds, giving in to the death stare Sylas is giving him.
"We get bonuses," Sylas says to me. "For the games. Sometimes there are patrons…" He swallows, as if the word pains him. "Who pay for certain…deaths."
Maxym goes silent. Then he unfolds himself from the chair and places his hand on Sylas' shoulder.
"You've suffered enough, Sylas. It's time to leave it all behind. Go with your mate, find a new life."
"And you?" Sylas grasps Maxym's arm. "What about you? And the others?"
"We can look after ourselves, commander," Maxym says, his voice low.
Sylas' wings shake, and his grip on Maxym's arm digs into the flesh. His dark pools of eyes seem to burn, and it's not because of what is happening in this room.
"Stay with me, Sylas," Maxym murmurs.
I slide my hands into Sylas' warm feathers from behind and feel how much he is vibrating. For a long while, there is only silence. It settles around us like warm water. Sylas takes in a deep breath, and a hand closes over mine as I'm slowly enveloped in his arms.
"Thank you," he says into my ear.
"Don't go so far next time," I reply.
"Despite the fact you're all trouble, I thought you might be hungry." Ginka's voice rings out, shattering the peace but bringing with it the scent of baking.
She's holding a large tray filled with delicious looking baked goods.
Maxym's eyes light up. His wings knock yet another ornament off one of Ginka's shelves, but this time, in a lightning move, Sylas catches it before it hits the floor.
Ginka gasps, stares, and huffs.
My massive Gryn gladiator winks at her and shoulders Maxym, who staggers a little, then recovers himself before closing the distance to Ginka in a single stride.
"It must be complete chaos in the dome with more than one Gryn." I look up at Sylas.
"You've no idea," he says, lips hitching into the smile which makes my insides go squishy. "Let's eat."
It's not a suggestion, more of a statement. And what follows is possibly the most bizarre half an hour of my time not on Earth, which given what I've been through is saying a lot.
Sylas, although initially with a look of extreme confusion on his face, insists I sit on his lap while he selects the choicest of items for me, offering each one up to my lips while growling at the others. All the while, Maxym tries and fails to contain his mirth at his fellow Gryn's behavior, making me think this is not a common occurrence. Ginka just stares at us and shakes her head occasionally.
"I'm full," I say, patting my stomach. "I couldn't eat another thing."
Sylas rumbles deep in his chest.
"Me too," Maxym says, eyes dancing with badness.
"Vrex off," Sylas rasps.
"Oh, very nice. And to your only friend who you may never see again." Maxym fakes injury to his feelings (badly).
"I will see you again," Sylas replies. "And now I am taking my mate to my nest. She requires rest."
Ginka coughs and Maxym beams. Before I have any say in the matter, I'm in his arms and being carried back to the bedroom filled with twinkling things and soft furnishings, which I now recognize as some of the cushions from Ginka's couch.
I don't think her place is ever going to be the same again after a visit from the Gryn. I know I'm not going to be either.
I want to be with Sylas, not because I don't want to have to return to Ixor, but because he's made me feel something for the first time in my entire life. A hard ball of emotions tucked up under my solar plexus makes me want to laugh, to cry, and to call out from the rooftops.
Whatever happens next, I'm bound to my gladiator as much as he is to me.