Page 14 of Caged

“You owe me for all your training, your weapons, your feed, light, heat, bathing, and your medic attention.” His lip lifts a little. “Of which you receive a considerable amount, given your particular…physiology.”

“I heal fast. You shouldn’t have bothered.” I snort and turn my head away from him.

“You were made, Sylas. Made stronger, faster, with a greater pain threshold than even a zigurex.” He looks down again at the screen on his desk. “You were made to fight, which is why you’re different from all the others.”

“I was made to be free,” I say.

He looks back up at me.

“You swore the oath, Sylas. To me, when you were sent here as your punishment. Freedom is not an option, not any time soon.” He shuffles the screen in front of him. “What is an option is to do your best in the dome. Fighting as per your oath and for your fellow gladiators. Make credits from your fame, make your peace with the nightly activities we arrange, make the crowd love you. You have a chance here, gladiator. Don’t waste it in the hole.”

I roll my eyes, shake my head, and lift my face to the ceiling. “Why should I do any of that?”

“Because you’re going to be here a long time, Sylas. The chances of you being killed in the dome are still high, but we both know you won’t let yourself die. Why fight the system when you can embrace it and make credits from it?” He has his long fingers entwined, his elbows resting on the desk.

His body is weak, unable to take on even the lowliest gladiator. But it doesn’t matter.

He owns me.

I dredge up a snarl from the pit of my stomach, but then something stops me. Is it a scent in the air? I’m not sure, but in an instant, all I can see is the face of my female. The unknown creature who is my mate.

If I’m to have any chance to find her, I can’t spend the rest of my days in the hole. I need to have what limited freedom we’re allowed, and I need it now.

“Fine,” I growl.

The procurator’s middle eye flares with a brief surprise, the most emotion I’ll ever see from him.

“And no more attempting to damage dome property?” he queries.

“No.”

“Your vitals are off,” he says. “Get yourself checked by the medic and then join the others in the training arena. They were terrible without you.” He nods at the guards. “Release him.”

I growl, but quietly as the restraints are removed and I can shake out my feathers, twirling my wings over my head and sending waves of air whistling around the room. The procurator can’t exactly object, given my wings are my greatest weapon. His mouth sets in a hard line.

“Don’t mess this up, gladiator. There are worse places than the hole.”

“Like you need to tell me,” I mutter as I exit his suite of rooms, rubbing some feeling back into my wrists and glaring at any guards who look my way. Down the bottom of the main passage, I spot the procurator’s guard bots and give them a healthy snarl.

They do not move. Vrexing bots.

My fellow gladiators are not where the procurator thinks they will be. I find this out as I pass the dining halls. The one for the visiting gladiators is thankfully empty, but there is plenty of noise coming from the one used by the Gryn.

My stomach makes a growl to rival any I can produce in my throat, although discovering Rych stood on a table when I enter reduces my appetite.

“Sylas!” he shouts, loud enough to wake the dead, of which the dome holds many. “You got out?”

“No thanks to any of you,” I growl, glowering around at the assembly.

Maxym grins at me. “Thought you could handle this one yourself, gladiator,” he says, shoving a platter of meat at me.

Blayn is chewing on his rations. He looks significantly less buzzed than the last time I saw him, and he is also sporting a new tattoo on his neck. He gives me a lopsided half smile, which disappears from his face as quickly as it appeared, and all his concentration goes back to his food.

Klynn ignores everyone, picking at his platter and looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

“I was told you were training.”

“Captain told us to come and eat, so we’re eating.” Rych laughs. The precious metal necklaces he insists on wearing jingle together.

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