Page 42 of Chained to the Champion
VEGA
I slunkthrough the guts of the arena, shadows clinging to me like cobwebs. Above, the roar was a physical thing. Every cheer, every gasp – a story ending in someone’s blood soaking the sand.
And Zarvash was up there. Fighting for his life.
The thought made something clench tightly in my chest. Sharp. Unwanted. I shoved it back.Focus on the mission. Find the humans. Get intel.That's why I was down there, risking my neck. Not to agonize over a Drakarn warrior who could handle himself.
Even if I could still feel the imprint of his mouth on mine, feel his body pressed against my skin. Damn it, I didn't need the distraction.
There were three identical hellmouths as the corridor split ahead of me. I froze, ears straining. Left: the faint, rhythmic clang of metal on metal. The armory? Right: just darkness thick enough to swallow you whole and the plink-plink-plink of dripping water. Straight ahead … voices. Hushed. Hurried.
Human.
My gut tightened. I pressed myself to the clammy wall, holding my breath, skirting the puddles gleaming on the floor.One wrong step … The voices sharpened. A man. A woman. English. Fast. Scared.
“… can't just sit here waiting to die,” Kinsley rasped. “If they pick one of us for tomorrow’s ‘entertainment’—” Her voice cracked.
“And what choice do we have?” Asif. His tone was flat, dead. “Last time someone got brave, three of us ended up decorating the sand. Or did you forget that?”
I rounded the corner, slow and careful. They were cowering in a reeking alcove, hemmed in by buckets and bloodstained rags. Kinsley, on her knees, scrubbed rust-colored stains from some piece of arena gear. Asif sifted through a pile of dented, broken armor like a vulture picking at bones.
They spotted me and froze. Pure, animal terror flared in their eyes before a flicker of recognition doused it. Barely.
“You.” Kinsley’s whisper was a puff of air, her brush clattering to the stone. “Are you insane? If they find you down hereagain?—”
“I can handle myself.” We didn’t have time to argue about my habit of wandering.
Asif shot a terrified glance down the corridor, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Your …master…” He choked out the word. “Does he know you're here?”
Master. Right. The word scraped down my spine like a Drakarn's claws. “He's a little preoccupied at the moment,” I said, keeping my voice level. “I thought we could talk.”
Kinsley’s eyes, already hard, narrowed to slits. “About what? You've seen this shithole. What more is there to know?”
“How many of you are there?” I had to fight the urge to snap. “Total. Here in Ignarath. Or beyond, if you’ve heard anything.”
They traded a look. The kind that said,do we trust her?Asif let out a breath that carried the weight of the world. “Twenty-three. That we know of. Eight here in this godforsaken arena, usfive in general service, plus the three … collaborators.” His lip curled. “Seven at the pleasure dens. Another eight at the mining camp east of here. There used to be more of us.”
My heart gave a painful thump. “They're …”
Kinsley nodded, a flicker of something—sympathy?—in her eyes. “Dead.”
“The rest of our ship?” I pushed, dread coiling in my stomach. “Do you have any idea what happened?” One minute I’d been in cryosleep, the next I’d woken up on Volcaryth. I didn’t know if it was a mechanical malfunction that had brought us down or something else.
“They’re dead,” Asif said, the word a stone dropping into a well. “Or scattered so far across this hell-planet they might as well be.”
I didn't want to believe it, but there was no use pressing yet. “What about?—”
A shadow slammed down, swallowing the meager light in our alcove. My hand snapped to the knife hidden under my tunic. Every muscle in my body screamed, coiling tight. Fight or flight.
Always fight.
“What are you doing down here?” The voice was deep. Dangerous.
I spun and damn near swallowed my tongue.
Omvar. The red behemoth from the feast.
Up close, he wasn't just imposing; he was a walking mountain range. Eight feet of crimson-scaled muscle that seemed to suck the air out of the space, his scales catching the dim light like polished bloodstones. And those eyes, molten gold, pinning me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. Pure predator.
