17. Lily

After I'd shared my story with the other girls, everything drifted back to normal. They cleaned and primped themselves as they always did for when the Champions came to Claim them later in the day.

There was one small difference, and that was in how upbeat everyone seemed to be. Maybe they were hoping for their own Prince Charming to come pummel the crap out of any Champions who treated them badly… but I wasn't naive enough to think that would happen again for me.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime event for a Prize, which was why they were all so thrilled about it. It just didn't happen, and when it did, it quickly faded and everyone forgot about it.

Everyone but me.

I would never forget how kind he was, how he didn't even touch me for fear of how I might respond.

Was it worth it? I wondered. His kindness, knowing now that I was going to be the first pick of any Champion who stepped through the door and the treatment I could come to expect at their hands?

Yes, I decided. Because it was what would get me through that ordeal, and the one after that, and the one after that.

I would picture Ohara's vibrant golden eyes and the surprisingly muscular frame of his body beneath his unobtrusive clothes and his hard scaly skin that I never got to touch but still knew what it must feel like…

And then there was that impressive bulge in his pants that he thought he'd hidden away from me so well… but I knew arousal when I saw it. I probably shouldn't have felt as excited as I did, being alone in the presence of a male here… and yet, I did.

It was his warm, caring aura for me… and the way he managed to control himself despite his obvious desire for me.

I had tried to fool myself into thinking he wasn't interested in me but that was never what I truly believed.

I was just so shocked that, despite my best intentions, I had ended up with exactly the kind of alien male I didn't want — in the form of the jjizzik.

I needed to be better prepared next time, because tonight, I would not have anyone there to save me.

"No way!" one of the other Prizes said, shoving herself up from her seat and heading out into the Viewing Room.

There were excited whispers and more than one glance at me as the Prizes hurried out from the backroom.

"What's going on?" I said to Gpidod.

She just beamed at me and tugged on my arm. "Trust me, you'll want to see this…"

The others pressed themselves against the glass that looked out on the fighting pits below. There was the usual roar from the inmate crowd, hisses and groans and shouts of suggestions that almost always went unheeded.

Usually, I didn't like to watch the fights. I disliked the idea that if one of the fighting beasts were to look up and see me, he might take me for inspiration and then choose me afterward as his Prize.

I wasn't against watching them, though.

I admired their strength and their speed and how surprisingly agile they were on their feet. And then there were the special abilities of each individual fighter.

Most were monstrously strong and could tear the armor of their opponents like tissue paper, but some could command droplets of water from the air and fashion them into shards of ice to hurl at their opponent.

Others could weave a column of fire that scorched any surface it came to. Others could heal super fast like that dude from the X-Men. Others could form mirror images of themselves that their enemy had to attack one by one until they found the real alien fighter.

The Prizes gasped whispers to one another before turning and shooting me looks and whispering behind their hands and under their breath.

My heart sank.

These Prizes had been in the Pool a lot longer than I had. This was normal to them. They had learned to grow excited by the idea of alien inmates fighting to possess them. I didn't want anyone to fight for me — much less these alien beasts who would only hurt me.

"I don't need to see this," I said, turning away from the tempered glass.

Gpidod pressed a hand to my shoulder and pointed down into the pit. "Can't you see him?" she asked softly. "There. On the far side."

I gave Gpidod a look that told her I wasn't amused, but she only jiggled her eyebrows.

I sighed again — it was becoming a bad habit already — and looked in the direction she was pointing.

I made out the red dust of the fighting pit's floor, the scorch, water, and blood smears across the walls from the previous rounds, and there, one of the fighters standing with his arms by his side, watching as the last losing fighter was dragged out of the pit and through an iron gate, while the victorious fighter raised his torn arms to the crowd in victory, soaking up the applause as he bowed and left the stage, the next fighter already taking his place.

"Yeah, so?" I said, growing agitated. "Do I really need to see which fighter is going to end up Claiming me tonight?"

"There," Gpidod said insistently — and annoyingly. "He's there."

He? He who?

And then I spotted him.

I should have recognized him immediately, but I had so convinced myself that I wouldn't see him there, that I would in fact never see him again, that I had not seen what my eyes were trying to tell me.

Ohara stood on the far side of the pit in loose-fitting leather armor and a sword at his side.

"Oh my God," I said. "What is he doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Gpidod said, a dreamy look returning to her eyes, and she cupped her chin on her hands and watched with her eyelids fluttering. "He's come to rescue you. Again."

"Rescue me?" I said. "But I'm not in danger!"

"He doesn't want anyone else to Claim you. He wants you to himself. And he's going to risk his life to get it."

"But… But…" I sputtered. "He'll get hurt!"

My concern for him and his well-being greatly outmatched that of my own. I didn't want to see him get injured. And fighting the jjizzik was one thing — he hadn't expected Ohara to be such a good fighter, but now, everyone knew it.

He couldn't take them by surprise.

Yesterday, he had to defeat a single opponent. Today, he had five he needed to defeat, one after another, round after round.

I glanced up at the scoreboard and saw Ohara at the bottom. With zero experience, he wasn't expected to do well. My stomach churned when I peered at the Champion at the top…

Druin.

Even the sight of him in that moronic picture made me feel disgusted. And yet, he would be my fate if someone didn't step in to stop him. The truth was, Ohara was the only one who could save me.

The only one who truly cared.

And as the siren wailed and the opponents came together, my heart would have been in my throat… if it wasn't already stepping toward its opponent in the pit…