Page 18 of Chained to the Champion
Something inside me shattered.
I stepped from the shadows. Wings flared, and in that moment, I didn't feel the pain of my broken wing, filling the corridor. Neck arched. Fangs bared. Pure dominance. Pure threat.
“Release her.” My command was harsh. Absolute.
The Ignarath froze. Their grip slackened just enough for Vega to wrench free. The officer turned, his expression sliding from surprise to contempt.
“Another trespasser.” His tongue flicked out, tasting the air. “And this one smells like the soft scales in Scalvaris. What brings you to our arena, outsider?”
I advanced, each step measured. Keeping my gaze locked on his. Dominance was as much about belief as brute strength. “That slave belongs to me.” Saying the words was bile on my tongue.
The officer’s eyes narrowed. “Strange. She wears no collar, no mark. And she roams unauthorized.”
“She wasn’t unauthorized.” A growl rumbled in my chest. “She was sent. By me.”
“Sent?” Skepticism dripped from the word. “For what purpose?”
I drew myself up, summoning arrogance like armor. “I intend to enter your tournament. The creature was gathering information. Assessing the competition, the layout, the opportunities.” A baring of teeth. “She has … unique skills. Valuable insights.”
The officer circled, his warriors holding Vega. Her eyes burned into mine. Fury, fear.
Don’t make this worse.I only hoped she could read my expression.
“You claim to be a warrior,” the officer said. “Yet you send a slave to do your work? Cowardice is not valued in our arena.”
“Tactics,” I corrected. Smooth as death. “Only a fool walks in blind.” A flick of my gaze to Vega. “She was supposed to bediscreet.”
The officer stopped, close enough to smell his breath. Meat. Something rotten. “You expect me to believe this? That you, some worthless trader, would enter our games?”
So, news of our arrival hadn't gone unheard. Rumors spread even faster in Ignarath than they did back home.
“I don't care what you believe.” I met his stare, unflinching. “I swear by the Forge I sent her. And I intend to enter your tournament at first light.”
A murmur rippled through the warriors. A Forge oath. Not given lightly. Bound by honor, torture, death. Even Ignarath respected that.
Something deep inside me twinged at the lie. Once, not very long ago, I had been a strong follower of the Forge Temple and all they believed in. Those beliefs had been tested, nearly broken. But a life devoted to that creed couldn't be forgotten easily.
The officer’s scales rippled in unease. “Bold words. Perhaps to save your pet from punishment.” He gestured to Vega. “Rogue slaves are executed. Publicly. Sport before the main event.”
I stepped closer. Nose to nose. “Touch what is mine,” I growled, voice a promise of pain, “and I will rip your throat out with my teeth.”
He didn’t flinch, but his pupils contracted. Fear, quick and primal. “Big threats for an outsider.”
“Not threats,” I said. “Promises. Harm her, and vengeance will echo through your bones long after your scales turn to dust.”
He stepped back, reassessing. “Very well. I’ll hold your pet for the night. Safe in our cells.” A cold smile. “Tomorrow, when the tournament rolls are called, I expect to see your name. If not …” He glanced at Vega. The threat, clear as a blade.
“She dies before the crowd. A fitting start to the games.”
My claws flexed. The urge to tear him apart. Contained. Just barely. I kept my voice level. “I’ll be there.”
The officer nodded. “Take her to the holding cells. The secure ones.” He turned back. “Prepare, Scalvaris. Our tournament is not known for mercy.”
They dragged Vega away. Her resistance renewed. Her eyes locked on mine. A message I couldn't grasp. Fear, yes. Anger, definitely. But beneath it … trust? Hope? Or just resignation?
“Zarvash …,” she called before a hand clamped over her mouth.
The corridor emptied. Leaving me with the echo of her voice. And the officer’s final warning:Dawn. Or your pet dies screaming.
