Alex

ALEX

I 'm doing everything I can to keep a lid on my nerves. It's one thing sneaking into the dome through the sewers, but it's entirely different to be walking through the front entrance.

"Over here!" Gytha waves at me and Haxrix, distracting the guard as I press the button which is supposed to hide my weaponry from the scanners and hope for the best.

The Oykig leers at me for a second until Haxrix makes a coughing sound like she's going to bring up a hairball, and I give him a quick smile, breezing through into the atrium which leads to the stands and the fighting arena itself.

Gytha pulls us to one side, through the crowds of customers thronging the vast space. It takes a lot to fill the dome, but the games bring them in time and again.

I don't know how the resistance believes they can stop this place. Money talks, it always will. Ultimately, my aim is to get to Sylas. The rest can be dealt with once he is free.

"Where next?" Gytha asks.

"We need to get lower down. I came up from the sewers and never got to this level."

Gytha gazes at the atrium, her soft, silky tunic swirling around her like a cloud. But I spot it first, the small service door set into the metal wall on the other side.

"There," I say quietly.

"Let's go," Gytha says, and we make our way with studied nonchalance until we reach our goal.

"How do we get through?" I query.

Haxrix studies the door and then slams her foot against it. The thing swings open, and while I cringe, expecting loud alarms and pulsars in our faces, nothing happens.

The Cirmos grins at me. "The dome doesn't think anyone would be stupid enough to break into the gladiator or beast quarters."

"Go." Gytha pushes us both inside. "I'm going to get the other team in. Make your way to the main admin center and we'll track you," she says.

The door closes behind us and a familiar scent rises up. Haxrix huffs, her furry tail almost twice its usual size.

"Males," she hisses.

And she's absolutely right. This stench can only be males, or at least mostly males kept in close quarters, and it's one I recognize from the last time I was here.

I wish I could detect the spicy sweetness of Sylas amongst it all.

"Yep, that's male alright," I say with a wrinkle of my nose, moving past her and down the passage farther into the depths of the dome until we reach the central corridor I recall from my earlier trips.

"The admin section is up there." I point to my left. "Through the doors and on your right." We both step back into the shadows as a set of Habosu, along with a Xnosson bull, march past, fortunately paying us little attention. "I need to go the other way. That's where the Gryn are kept."

Haxrix pulls me in for an unexpected furry hug, rubbing her cheek against mine.

"Take care, . The transport will be waiting for you both once you get out. And keep in touch." She levels her gaze at me. "I want to know everything."

Warmth spreads through me. The warmth which comes from knowing you are no longer alone. A warmth which emboldens me. I won't be without my Sylas for much longer.

"Go." Haxrix gives me a shove away. "Find your gladiator. If what Gytha thinks the resistance can obtain is true, he could be free by the time you escape."

"Sylas is already free," I say with a smile. "But every bit helps."

I turn away from her, and as the corridor is empty, I race down it, doing my best to remember the way to the gladiator quarters.

The walls get increasingly dirty and damaged as I go deeper into the dome's undercroft, so I know I'm getting closer.

"And what do we have here?"

An Oykig, much larger than I've encountered before, slithers out of an alcove. His scaled chest is criss-crossed with weaponry, and he looks like he's a contestant in the games with his cocky attitude.

Behind him, a purple warrior emerges. He's bulbous in all the wrong places, his bald head shining in the dim light, his tiny eyes glittering with menace.

"The dome was supposed to provide food," he says in a voice like rocks smashing together. "I wasn't expecting it to still be alive."

"Don't mind me." I attempt to sidle past. "I'm passing through…I didn't mean to bother you." I attempt to duck but the Oykig grabs hold of me by my neck and presses me against the rough wall.

"I don't think this little creature is supposed to be here."

"I'm not," I say, voice strangled as I grip at his hand. "I got lost, took a wrong turn. I was wanting to place a bet."

"And where exactly do you keep your credits in an outfit like that?" the big purple warrior says, his eyes raking over my body with undisguised lust.

How have I managed to find the only other species which considers me attractive in this place?

"I have a credit implant in my wrist," I choke out. "Please, let me go, and I'll pay you what I was going to bet."

The Oykig looks interested for a fleeting second, but then his face hardens along with his grip.

"You're going to have to offer more than credits," he snarls. I see the fangs filled with poison.

"Are you touching my mate ?" A growl reverberates around the walls and ceilings.

A growl which could strip flesh from bone. A growl I'd recognize anywhere.

"Sylas!" I rasp.

My massive gladiator leans against the wall, his powerful hand resting on the pommel of a sword propped in front of him. Blood runs from a few cuts on his torso, and he's streaked with dirt which gathers around his muscles like shadows, emphasizing his enormous, powerful form.

One of his huge wings seems lopsided, but it makes no difference to how incredibly imposing he is, especially when his dark eyes are fixed on the Oykig who has hold of me.

He is a gorgeous, handsome vision I never expected to see again. My heart flings itself against my chest and my lungs contract.

Sylas is here.

"This belongs to you?" The Oykig unwisely gives me a little shake.

His arm drops away as Sylas severs it, and I can breathe again. He falls back against the purple warrior who moves to one side as the Oykig falls to the ground, writhing and hissing.

"And were you also looking at my mate?" Sylas says to him.

"Absolutely not." He holds up his hands and backs away quickly. "Not looking, not even thinking about your mate, no," he garbles out before turning and running as fast as his lumbering bulbous body will take him. The Oykig whines as Sylas steps over him to get to me.

And I'm in his arms again, wrapped in his soft feathers, breathing in his subtle, delicious spice. This is the place I want to be, forever.

"I found you," I whisper. "Never let me go again."