Alex

ALEX

W olfie, who it turns out is called Axel, bundled me into a small air transport and activated the privacy mode, taking me on what seemed like a short trip into Tatatunga. On arrival, my feet hardly touched the ground as I was hustled through a number of corridors and shoved into a windowless room with no furniture.

"A cell?" I glare at him. "You're keeping me prisoner?"

"Waiting area," Axel growls as I roll my eyes. "You don't get to see anywhere else until we know who you are."

"And while we're doing this…" I wave my arms at the walls. "Sylas is in trouble. He needs help. He needs me." I hiccup on the last sentence and attempt to get myself together. "He needs to be free."

"Freedom is what we do," Axel says, as he withdraws, shutting the door behind him.

"Freedom is what we do." I mimic him as I pace across the room. "Seems like you do the exact opposite," I mutter to myself.

It's fifteen paces across the room and fifteen back. I feel like death warmed up. I'm cold, I'm miserable, and I miss Sylas with the force of a thousand hearts. He's become so much a part of my life since we met all those nova-weeks ago, I can't remember a time without him. His spicy cinnamon scent, the rustle of his feathers, his low, sinful voice which makes me tingle all over.

Except I can remember what it was like without him too. Being alone, being scared, not knowing what the future held. I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to be with Sylas. I want us to be together, to be free, to raise our child as a family.

I love him. I love every inch of my scarred gladiator, with his burning, beautiful eyes and ability to make my knees weak with a single touch of a feather. I love Sylas. Why didn't I tell him?

And I'm never going to see him again. All I'm ever going to see is these four walls. I spin and hit one with my back, sliding down until I'm sat on the floor, my arm over my abdomen and my legs splayed in front of me. I feel sick and I feel alone.

The door opens and the furry head of a Cirmos pokes around it, all whiskers and ears.

"It's you!" Haxrix exclaims. "When they said there was a human seeking a gladiator, I was confused, especially after you paid so much to be taken to Chohan."

"Haxrix!" I scramble to my feet and race to the door, throwing my arms around her and this time not even bothering to stop the tears. "I'm so pleased it's you! They've got Sylas. I don't know what they're going to do to him, but I don't think it's going to be anything good."

"Hey." Haxrix is rather rigid under me. "You're getting my fur wet."

I release her with an apology, but her face is soft and her eyes kind.

"Start again, from the beginning," she says, holding my hands. "Slowly."

"We were in Chohan, and everything was fine until I got sick and Sylas found out the reason he wanted to go there was because he'd been before as a prisoner of the Zavaro, before he was sold to the dome as a gladiator. But finding this out somehow led them to him and got him captured. They're taking him to the dome again and this time I don't think they're going to let him leave."

"There's plenty going on in the dome," Haxrix says. "The resistance has been attempting to gain access for a long time."

"And you're part of this resistance? You could have said," I say accusingly.

"It's on a need to know basis, and I didn't think you needed to know," Haxrix says coolly. "I took you to where you wanted to go."

"It would have helped."

"Not if you'd got away and never come back," Haxrix says, her hands tightening around mine. "And the rest of them didn't need to know where Sylas went," she adds.

"I wish we had been able to, I really do, but Sylas knew he was missing memories. It was only a matter of time," I reply as more tears fall. "I need him, Haxrix, and he needs help. Can the resistance do anything other than blow up parts of the dome? Can they help us? Can they help him?"

Haxrix looks over her shoulder at the door behind her. "I'd like to think we can, but the others will need to know more."

"I don't know any more than what I've told you, and I thought I had to do a test to prove myself worthy to the resistance," I say with a twist of my mouth.

"Did Axel bring you here?" Haxrix asks. "Big, toothy, acts like he knows the gods personally?"

"That's him, yes. He brought me here."

Haxrix hisses under her breath. "There's no test. He's got fur for brains, that one. We were notified of your release by someone we trust within the dome's hierarchy. He was sent to get you."

"No test?"

"No test."

I feel my shoulders relaxing and my legs wobbling.

"Is there any chance of a seat and some water? I've had a time of it," I say.

Haxrix narrows her eyes but says nothing, leading me out of the bare room and into another, large and open, with comfortable seating, a food prep area and a view over Tatatunga from the west. Groups of various species are talking quietly. I spot Jiaka, Oykig, more Cirmos, and a couple of Tref, along with Axel who is talking with a massive horned minotaur.

"Sit," Haxrix says, pushing me into a squashy couch.

She walks away, striped tail twitching at the tip, punches Axel in the balls, and returns to the food prep area.

"Axel brought you in then?" An Oykig female, her chest scales darker and more iridescent than the male, slides in next to me. "I'm Gytha," she adds.

"I'm , and yes, Axel brought me here."

"All fur, that one." Gytha laughs as Axel doubles up, clutching his family jewels. "You need our help?"

"My mate, Sylas—he's a Gryn gladiator in the dome—he needs your help. He needs anyone's help, really," I say. "I've got to get him out. They're going to make him fight to the death."

"I thought that's what the gladiator dome was all about," Gytha says.

"It isn't. The Gryn can defeat just about anything, but they're going to fix it this time so that he doesn't. Because Medius doesn't want him to remember."

"Medius? General Medius?" Gytha asks. "Of the Zavaro?"

"He's a Zavaro, yes," I reply. "What do you know about him? About the Gryn? Tell me!" I demand, my voice rising and a hush falling over the room as everyone turns to watch us.

"We know General Medius of old." The huge minotaur steps forward. "We've all fought him in the past, or our species have. The Zavaro seek to conquer, if not by force, by stealth, and we believe that has happened here on Trefa. The dome, the games —they're all a distraction and a place to do away with those who the Zavaro considers to be their enemies."

"Trefa is a lawless place, so how can you tell?" I snort, looking away from him. "It turns its back on those who are enslaved or poor. It cares nothing for the vulnerable. It's a terrible place with or without the dome."

"Trefa wasn't always this way." It's a female Tref who speaks, tall and willowy, her long arms accentuated by the powder blue flowing tunic she wears. "It was once a planet of peace and tranquility. While we welcome the trade, we do not welcome those who wish to destroy what we have. It's about time the council takes notice of what those who live here want, and not what those who just want to take insist upon."

"And you want to destroy them in turn?"

"We want peace," Gytha says. "It's all anyone on Trefa wants. But we also want equality, not slavery, and for the council to no longer pretend this is not a problem for our planet. To stand up to the Zavaro and make it so the Galactic Council knows what is really happening here on Trefa, as they're the only ones who can fully influence Tatatunga."

"Well, good luck with that." I say, getting up. "Given how many credits the dome generates for Tatatunga, the games will never cease. In the meantime, I have a mate to save, from himself mostly, but I am going to save him. I think your aims are honorable, but they are not going to help us."

"Ah, little , that's where you're wrong. The dome is at the center of everything. If we can get in there, if the gladiators can assist, then we can take this all apart from within, including dealing with the Zavaro."