Page 3 of Rogue: Planet Athion
“Team, Rogue. T.E.A.M. Team. Do you know what that means, or do I need to fucking spell it out for you?”
“I believe you just did.”
He’d backed off with a growl, leaving me to contemplate my rash actions on the sand. What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t a choice. It wasn’t in my control. The rage, the whirlwind of deliverance, was a primal reflex.
We hadn’t really spoken much the last few days. But then he had been healing, so …
“You still mad?” I arched a brow.
He exhaled sharply and then responded by slinging an arm across my shoulders and pulling me into his side. Yeah, Marlon was a sweetie, totally protective of me, and totally into Killion, the human male who was stepping out of the cell farther down from us. Killion caught Marlon’s eye, and the two guys shared a smile. The human was blond, and the crinkles at the corners of his baby blues told me there’d been a time that he’d laughed easily. Not so much now.
How long had the affair between the two men been going on? Who knew? I didn’t pry, and they didn’t offer the information, it just was. Besides, it was best to keep any interrelations on the down-low. Marick, the house manager, was a bastard who’d use any such information as a weakness against us.
Ididknow that Killion was from England like me. Whereas he was from the north, I’d lived way south on the outskirts of what was left of London after the asteroids had hit Earth years ago, bringing the Trads with them—an alien race whose female population had been decimated by a virus. They’d hidden among us, parading as beautiful, charismatic men. They’d seduced and kidnapped human women, and I’d been one of those women. Except my impregnation had resulted in a miscarriage, and the fertility drug they’d administered had altered me on a genetic level. I just hoped Earth had found a way to stop them, slow them down or something.
I wish there was a way back home.
There was hope for me. There had to be. I hadn’t survived this long to be taken out now. When I’d first arrived, the Trad males had been in a frenzy to get at me. But Marlon, Killion, and the other human, Anton, had stood against them. They’d protected me while I’d healed from Marick’s assault, and thank goodness I’d been given the time, because when the Trads did get a hold of me, I’d been strong enough to fight them off—break a couple of bones and make them bleed. I’d gotten lucky when I’d been put into House Ryzer. It made me wonder how I’d have fared if I’d have been put into House Xaver or Axar. There was no doubt what my fate would have been if I’d been put into House Zantar.
Marlon gave me a squeeze. “Stop thinking, it looks painful.”
They didn’t know about the fight. I needed to tell them, but this was our down-time. The training room and the steam baths waited. This was our free time, and I didn’t want to spoil it for them.
“Rogue, what is it?” Killion asked, his brow crinkling. “Did Marick do something?”
Marlon’s grip on me was suddenly a little too tight. “I’ll kill him.”
Even though we all knew he would never get that chance, we liked to pretend it was a real possibility. Sometimes we even plotted his demise. Fun times.
I gave him a puh-lease look. “That fleabag couldn’t do something to me if he tried. He knows it, and I know it, and his lost testicle knows it.”
Marlon chuckled.
“Then what is it?” Killion pressed, bringing us back to the original question.
Urgh, he wasn’t going to let this go. Him with his empathy and nose for secrets. Fuck it, they needed to know. Might as well be sooner rather than later. We’d have to up our training to accommodate the upcoming fight, after all.
“He told me we’re going to be pitted against Zantar later this week.”
“Shitting hell,” Killion cursed.
We were at the arch that led into the training room, and the grunts and exertion of the other men filtered out to us.
Killion dropped his arm from around me. “Let me speak to the others.”
Even though we were pretty sure the Trads in our house wouldn’t try anything with me again, Killion preferred me to keep my distance. Pheromones, he insisted, were a powerful thing.
I nodded, and we stepped into the training room. Anton was poised by the weights bench, one eye on the equipment, the other on the trio of Trads working out to the far right of the room. They were big, scaled, and horned, and right now they’d decided to hide their tails, but when they really got going with the workout, those suckers would whip out. We tended to give them their space.
They glanced across at me as I entered, and Jurak, their unofficial ringleader, even smiled. Shame it was more of an I’ll-get-you-next-time-my-pretty smile. But heck, I’d take what I could. The smile dropped when Marlon broke away from our group and sauntered over to them. The Athion was huge, a mammoth compared to the three Trads. His long black hair was braided and fell down his back. When in the pit, he coiled it around his head to prevent the opponent from using it against him. I’d asked him once why he didn’t just cut it off, and he’d explained that it was a symbol of his tribe, a thing of pride, and to cut it would be to dishonor his people.
I turned away as Marlon reached the trio, but Killion kept his attention on them, his body tense. There hadn’t been any altercations between the housemates for several weeks, but who knew when the Trads would lose their heads again. They were an aggressive trio, even though Marlon insisted they weren’t necessarily an aggressive species. But heck, this place was enough to bring out the monster in anyone.
Anton wiped the perspiration from his brow and looked up inquisitively at me. “What’s up?”
His warm brown eyes were filled with concern.
I shrugged. “We’re fighting Zantar later this week.”
