Page 17 of Chained to the Champion
But only three?
I didn’t waste another heartbeat on silence. I moved forward, pressed both hands to the cold, rough bars, blood roaring in my ears.
“Hey.” My voice was rough with everything I’d been holding in. “Hey, over here.”
Three faces jerked towards me, hollow-cheeked and wild-eyed. The one with the cropped hair, a woman, taller than me, face carved in hard lines of exhaustion and disbelief, shot toward the bars, all raw-edged aggression.
“Who the hell are you?” she hissed.
8
ZARVASH
I was goingto kill her when I found her. If the damned Ignarath didn't do it first.
Vega’s scent—damn her—cut through the reek of Ignarath. Sweat, blood, and something distinctlyhuman, too sweet for this viper’s pit. It pulled me, a sickeningly insistent thread, through the warren of winding streets. Past gambling dens where Drakarn tossed knucklebones, laughter like rocks grinding against each other.
The arena district loomed. A monument to savagery, its sloping walls clawing at the bruised moonlight. Torches flickered, casting long dancing shadows. Each step closer was a risk, each breath a taste of the enemy.
My wing throbbed. A constant reminder of my frailty. Alone, wounded, deep in Ignarath territory. The outcome wouldn’t be a question; it would be a butcher’s display.
Vega slipped through a shadowed side entrance, moving like a snake herself. Silent. Deadly. She'd slipped from our room like a phantom, no word, no warning. Fury burned like acid in my gut.
Did she have any sense? Every step deeper into this nest ratcheted up the danger. I should have seen this coming. Thathuman … impulsive, reckless. Exactly the kind of maddening determination that made them impossible to predict. How many times had she done this already in Scalvaris? She should have been caged. Hobbled.
And yet …
I edged closer, hugging the shadows where torchlight couldn’t reach. The arena’s underbelly was a maze of stone and iron, designed to hold beasts and gladiators alike, before they were tossed to the screaming sands. Guards patrolled, their talons clicking on stone, tails dragging with bored malice.
Vega moved like she knew the place. Pausing at intersections, checking lines of sight. Caution … admirable, if not so bloody foolish. I tracked her movements, marking each guard, calculating trajectories. How fast could I reach her if it went to hell?
She vanished around a corner. A curse ripped from my throat, silent but savage. Moving closer was madness, but staying there … I slipped from the shadows, wings tight against my back, and followed her scent.
A voice. Not Drakarn.Human.
I didn't understand the words, but I guessed the speaker. Female. Wary. Defiant.
Understanding slammed into me. Of course. Not just blind recklessness. She was hunting her people. The guard’s words at the gate, replaying in my mind.Slaves … Humans … Arena …
I pressed against the wall, close enough to peer around the corner. The corridor opened into a wider chamber. Iron bars stretched from floor to ceiling, caging shadows. Vega stood before them, gripping the metal, her posture coiled and tense.
Three figures huddled in the darkness. Human. Marked by that alien softness. One stepped forward, tall female, hollow cheeks, cropped hair, her stance defiance carved in bone.
They spoke briefly in words I couldn't understand. But they weren't quiet, and sound carried through those damned passageways.
Four Ignarath rounded the corner with a fifth, in leather armor, leading them. An arena officer. They saw Vega instantly and spread out, cutting off escape.
“Well, well.” The officer’s voice was a dry rasp. “A stray pet, wandering where it shouldn't.”
Vega backed away from the cell, hands raised, posture primed for violence. Her eyes darted around. Calculating. Seeking a way out. Finding nothing.
“That's not … I'm not …” Her voice quivered, and it was nothing like I was used to hearing. She was playing her role, even there. Even when I could make out the outline of a knife under her tunic.
The officer laughed. Bone-chilling. “All soft-skins are pets. Or food.” A gesture to his warriors. “Take it.”
They surged forward. Too many. Too fast. Vega ducked the first, elbowing him in the gut. The Ignarath grunted, doubled over. But the others … They seized her. Grabbing her arms, twisting them behind her back.
She fought. Gods, how she fought. A wild thing caught in a trap. Twisting, kicking, a whirlwind of fury. But she was outnumbered. Overpowered. One warrior struck her. A brutal blow across the face. Her head snapped sideways. Blood welled at the corner of her mouth.
