Page 45 of Caged

I love it when she laughs. It’s a sound which turns my life into something special, something perfect. It lifts me in a way nothing ever has before. I could soar to the sky on her laughter. There never was a more joyous sound in all the galaxy. It makes me want to kiss her everywhere.

And later, I will.

ALEX

Chohan is a lush, warm place. Part jungle, part pine forest, if pines are several hundred feet tall and a blue/red color. There are a myriad of plants in such varieties it almost makes my head spin. Bright flying creatures flit between the trees and plants, and there is an overwhelming scent, part perfume, part vegetation, all delicious and heady.

I drink it in like a shipwrecked sailor finding fresh water. After my time in various grimy settlements and, of course, the dusty streets of Tatatunga, this is absolute perfection.

I’m glad Sylas chose this place, even if I don’t think he knew why he chose it himself.

My massive gladiator is presently attempting to intimidate Haxrix again, something I’d have thought he’d have given up on. She takes no shit, even from a gladiator multiple times her size, and I’m going to miss her.

“What’s going on?” I ask, approaching the pair.

“I’m telling the Cirmos not to reveal where she dropped us, on pain of death,” Sylas growls.

Haxrix stares at me with blank eyes.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Sylas.” I put my hand on his arm. He’s vibrating with repressed violence whichdrops down a notch at my touch. “Haxrix is used to transportingcargo, aren’t you?”

I give her a slow nod. She narrows her eyes.

“Cargo, yes. I take it everywhere. Don’t ask what’s in it,” she says rapidly.

Sylas tears his eyes from where he’s been looking at Haxrix like he’s going to eat her.

“That’s good,” he says. “I have to protect my mate at all costs.”

Haxrix’s lips curl up into a cat-like smile.

“Of course,” she purrs. Sylas’ wings flare, and his brow settles into his worried face for a second or two before resolving into his ‘I’m a big, strong gladiator’, all cheekbones and glower.

“I’ll transfer the rest of your fee,” I tell her.

She flaps her paw at me. “I was glad of the company. You can keep your credits. The big Gryn didn’t damage my ship and he was quite entertaining…” She huffs a laugh. “Plus he redecorated, so I’m not complaining.”

I wrap my arms around Haxrix. The fur tickles my nose, but if I don’t hug her, I will cry. Again.

“Thank you for everything,” I say in her furry ear.

“You and the Gryn deserve some good in your lives. I know what they do to gladiators in the dome,” Haxrix says as I release her.

She gives Sylas a glare which he returns until her gaze becomes a grin, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Instead he flips his wing tips one over the other, like he’s trying to strike a match.

“No one deserves that fate,” she adds. “Not even annoying Gryn like you.”

“You have met other Gryn?” Sylas fires at her. “Where?”

“Haxrix told me she met Gryn on a space station,” I say apologetically. “I meant to tell you.”

“On one of the older X-stations. They were passing through, and I had some cargo they were interested in,” Haxrix says evenly as Sylas looms over her again. “They looked different to you but the same I suppose. Less interested in tearing things apart, perhaps.” Her tail curls around her feet, oblivious to Sylas’ hungry gaze.

“Where were they from?” he asks hoarsely. “A farm? Here on Trefa?”

“Oh no!” Haxrix coughs out a laugh. “They were not gladiators, nor slaves. They had their own ships. They were free.”

Sylas takes a step back from her. “Free?”

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