Page 12 of Claimed By the Orc

Eventually, he relented. Or I passed out. Hard to tell which. When I came back to myself, I was a trembling wreck in his lap. I’d never been so sated, so drained, so happy.

He stroked my hair, watched my eyes, and looked happy, relaxed, and satisfied.

“There, little one,” he whispered. “I’ll hear no more about how you are ‘not pretty enough.’ Any vice den would be happy to have someone of your qualifications aboard, and if someone disagrees, I will teach them their error.”

All I managed was a nod and a murmured agreement. Then my consciousness faded and the darkness claimed me again.

11

GRAGASH

Days passed quickly and I got very little rest. Either training or attending to my human mate would have filled my time. Both together?

It kept me too busy to worry, at least.

Abigail wasn’t so lucky, having nothing to prepare for, so I did my best to keep her too worn out and happy to think. Not that fucking her into a blissful daze at every opportunity was a hardship, in the least.

Lachrin station, when we reached it, was a gem-studded circle hanging over the blue backdrop of a water planet. Each gem was a habitat, I realized as the details became clear, each stunning in its own way. There, a palace of crystal; a sphere of liquid, great shapes swimming in its depths; a single, giant tree, large enough to hold a city. Glorious and beautiful, it grew in the viewport as we closed and I could have watched it for hours and never run out of fantastic sights to gawp at. Nothing in the galaxy could compare to this sight, I felt sure.

Abigail rested her hand on my forearm, squeezing and reminding me of one view I preferred. “Be careful on there, okay? No one within a light year of here gives a damn about fair play.”

I turned to look at her, chuckling. “Apart from you?”

“No.” The flat, angry certainty surprised her as much as me, and it took her a moment to continue. “No, Gragash. Fuck fair—all I care about is you coming out on top.”

It took an effort not to roar with laughter at that, though I knew she wouldn’t appreciate the humor.

“Then take comfort in this: I never fight fair. There are no rules in the arena.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she took a deep breath. “Gragash, you’re an amazing fighter and I’ve never met anyone as brave. I care about you so much. But your naïveté is going to kill me! It’s not the fighting in the arena I’m worried about, it’s the politics outside of it. There are people out there who’ll make a fortune on this fight, and if they can manipulate the result, they will. Be careful, alright?”

I nodded agreement, though I hoped she was wrong. I’d rather face foes head-on than in some scheming game of politics. Which, when I thought about it, backed up my mate’s point.

A deep booming gong drew our attention back to the present. TheDarha’s Blessinghad arrived.

When Ty’anii led me down the ramp and onto the station, the difference between the view we’d had from space and what we disembarked to was overwhelming. No crystal spires or micro-gravity gardens here, just a worn and warped platform and rust-pitted machinery. The airmakers wheezed and vibrated, pushed to their limits, and yet the air was low in oxygen and tasted of burned oil and dead meat. I snarled at the unexpected, unpleasant smells, wondering how it was possible that this place, this haven of luxury for the rich, was so poorly maintained.

My Prytheen warder stumbled over a loose tile, and that was when I realized how little light there was. Plenty for an Orc, butwhen even a Prytheen couldn’t see what she was walking on I knew it had to be bad.

“Fucking rich assholes,” Fenx muttered behind me, and the rest of the crew sniggered.

“They didn’t get rich spending money on their employees,” Captain Vaher said with a chuckle and slapped Fenx on the back. “Every cent saved in lighting down here is one more to put into the ‘Rich Assholes’ Drinking Fund’ so what do you think they’ll do?”

Is that envy I hear?Vaher didn’t have a moral objection, I was sure. He just lived close enough to his employees to get stabbed if he tried to run things this way. The kind of people who’d force their workers to labor in the dark would own a fleet of ships, not captain one of them.

The best sources of light were the other ships moored beside theBlessing,so the illumination was inconstant and shifting. Workers scurried around, unloading and refueling and doing all the esoteric things a space port needed done. We skirted around them and to a massive door, above which hung a sign.

Fighter’s Pit

Death is Inevitable. Glory is Eternal.

Cheerful sentiments, I thought. What use is glory to a dead man? Even alive, it had never done me much good.

“Miss Ty’anii, yes?” The voice drew my attention down to a small male who looked more like a burrowing rodent than a person. His whiskers twitched as he peered through goggles. “I am Qubbins, and I have been expecting you. Some time ago, in fact”

“Mr. Qubbins!” I’d never heard her direct so much joyful enthusiasm at anyone aside from Vaher, and I couldn’t tell ifshe was sincere. “Such a delight to finally meet you. Let me introduce our champion, Gragash.”

I growled at the little creature, whose goggles whirred and whined as they focused on me.

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