Page 14 of Rogue: Planet Athion
Don’t look at them. Don’t.
But I couldn’t help it. My head turned as if of its own volition, and my gaze swept over the four hulking forms trapped in a cage that seemed much too tiny to hold them. Three were sporting wickedly barbed tails and horns, and scales covered their beautiful faces, giving them a dangerous air and muting the natural charisma they’d employed to enslave human females. The one with the red scales was renowned for the sting in his barbed tail, which he used to impale his opponents. The one with the darker scales and curved horns was a powerhouse when it came to knock-out punches, and the smallest of them, the one with the shimmering emerald scales and sharp pointed features, was the one they called the Ripper. He liked to tear and bite, and he had the teeth and claws to do it. He was the fastest of the quad. I’d seen him take down Trads larger and stronger than him on several occasions. He snapped at me now, and then grinned maniacally. I looked away and focused on the largest one, the one who hadn’t bothered to reveal his true form. He was in human form, golden hair pulled back off his face and amethyst eyes locked onto me. That was Vex, the alpha of the Pack. While the others snarled and growled and grabbed the bars to shake them, he simply stood and stared at me. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his thighs bunched, ready to leap into the arena, but his face, all planes and angles, was unemotional. The impassivity sent a shiver down my spine and flooded my veins with ice. This was a predator that would kill with neat efficiency and without any qualms. The tiny outfit they put us in hid nothing on this man. He may as well have been naked, and he didn’t look like he gave a shit.
“Don’t,” Anton said, stepping forward to block me from view.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and inhaled and exhaled to ground myself. I had to fight, I had to let go and unleash. There was no room for doubt or fear or any thought but survival. My body tingled as the ice melted, and heat infused my limbs.
I focused on the roar of the crowd seated in ascending rings that rose up to frame the arena. The spectators—workers, officials, and visitors. These fights were a way for them to blow off steam. While the houses made the big bargains, the peons placed minor bets.
A bell tolled, the cage flipped open, and we stepped onto the sand. The Pack bounded into the arena, spreading out, getting into whatever formation they’d agreed on. Anton and Xavier flanked me, and Jurak took up the rear as we stepped out. I rolled my neck, shook my hands, and bounced on the balls of my feet. The warmth spread through me, ready to be expelled in a flurry of punches and kicks. Vex stood a few meters in front of me, his body a mass of tense muscle, his gaze fixed on my face. And then he mouthed one word.
Run.
The Trad to my left sprinted at me, and I bolted, running full pelt for the edge of the ring. The world erupted in yells and grunts, but the sound of blood rushing in my ears acted as a buffer to the knowledge that the Ripper was behind me, his breath hot on the nape of my neck. I reached the wall and ran up it, feet slapping brick, and then flew into a back flip that carried me backward over the Ripper to land behind him. I didn’t stop to check his reaction—the rise in the crowd volume told me the move had been appreciated. No, I launched straight into an attack, grabbing him in a headlock and bringing him down with a neat pivot and a blow to the back of his knees. His claws ripped at my arms, but the pain was nothing, it was negligible, because all that mattered was taking him out. He bucked and tore at my skin, but my grip was tight, cutting off his airway, and his movements grew weaker. I had him. He was almost—
“Rogue, watch out!” Anton’s warning came a moment before a fist slammed into my head.
The world tilted and went black. Sand scraped against my skin as I hit the ground, and then a steel band was wrapped around my throat. The world came back online just before my forehead slammed into the ground and stars erupted in my vision. The band on my neck tightened, cutting off my air supply and blurring my vision. There was a weight on my back, pinning me, holding me down, and then it was gone.
“What you gonna fuck if you kill her?” a rumbling voice spat. “Focus on the others and leave her intact for fun.”
I was hauled to my feet and amethyst eyes locked onto mine. “Stay out of the way, and you won’t get hurt.” He shoved me away and ran into the fray behind me. Anton, Jurak, and Xavier were going one on one with the others. Ripper was back on his feet, it seemed.
Anton was bleeding heavily, Jurak was limping but refusing to go down, and Xavier moved like a fucking tornado. But Vex was about to jump in, and my team would be outnumbered.
I broke into a sprint after the Trad and leapt onto his back, intent on grabbing his head and taking out his eyes, but he threw me off before I could get a grip. I rolled and barreled toward the main fight. Vex beat me to it, entering on an uppercut to Jurak. The Trad went flying, and then I was in the fray, surrounded by sand and blood and snarls. A fist hurtled toward my face, but I dodged and punched my attacker in the ribs. A crack was followed by a grunt, but I wasn’t done. I took out a kneecap and then slammed a fist into the side of his head. He buckled and went down. Someone snagged me around the waist and whipped me back just as talons sliced through the air inches from my face.
“Now that was too close,” Xavier said in my ear. He sounded unaffected, unwinded. He sounded like he was enjoying himself.
The mood was infectious, and when he released me, I attacked with renewed gusto. A kick to the head prevented the Trad I’d just taken down from getting back up and reduced their team to three against four. Okay, with Jurak’s limp and Anton’s wounds, it was more like three and a half, but still.
Vex and Jurak were going head to head, and Xavier had cornered the Ripper. But sting tail was on Anton, and my friend was looking worse for wear. His movements were slower than usual. I ran toward him, eager to get in between and take tail guy down a peg or two. I was almost there, just a hairbreadth away, when something slammed into me, taking me down.
I flipped onto my back, arms coming up in a cross to connect with Ripper’s neck as he tried to get in a bite.
“Rogue!” Xavier was coming, but he sounded far away. I brought my knee up but missed the man parts.
Shit.
And then Anton was hauling Ripper off me. He slammed a fist into the Trad’s face, and Ripper went down hard. Anton held out a hand to help me up.
I grinned up at him. “My hero.”
“Always,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
I grabbed his hand and was halfway off the ground when Anton’s body jerked and his eyes flared wide. His hand tightened around mine for a moment before releasing me. I fell back just as something burst through his chest.
My gaze focused on Anton’s chest as my brain struggled to comprehend what I was seeing.
A tail.
He had the tip of a tail embedded in his torso. And then it was ripped out, and Anton dropped to his knees. His beautiful brown eyes were on me, his mouth struggled to form words, and then the light in his eyes winked out.
The world slowed to a crawl, my scream elongated in my ears, and the blood rushed to my head, turning my vision crimson. My body was no longer my own, it was rage and vengeance and blood, so much blood. Someone was screaming, so much screaming.
Screams were good, the slick feeling on my palms was good, the warm wetness spattering my face was good. The bone crunching was good.
A siren sliced through my brain.
