Page 15 of Baited

I place the ribbon and the trinkets on the couch next to me. They are not enough. They need to be arranged, but they are not enough. I want to pull out my feathers because they are hot and itchy and because I need to make this place nice for her, my tiny female.

Izzy looks at me and smiles. My entire body heats up. My cocks ache, straining in my pants. I don’t want her to touch me but…

I don’t smile back. I don’t understand this, who I am, what is going on. I’m used to the war between the light and the dark. The constant pain which grinds into my soul. The hollow inside me where I should remember but I don’t.

I can’t let this happen. The external pain is what keeps me going—it’s what I’m here for. Letting something as soft and gentle as Izzy into my life…it’s an unknown. What if she doestouch me? What if I like it? What happens with the dark and the light?

Flicking the trinkets and the ribbon to one side, I settle back on the couch to stare at her.

“Do you want anything else to eat?” she asks me.

I shake my head and heave out a breath. How am I going to manage another two nova-hours? My cocks are already so painful all I want to do is strip off my pants, which I would if I was back in my cell.

“Full.” I pat my stomach. “You eat,” I suggest instead, even though the thought of watching her eat makes my cocks wet the fabric of my pants.

This is going from bad to worse.

I’d almost rather be in the dome in the beast fights. Almost.

“I ate earlier,” Izzy says, and I can’t stop looking at her mouth. “Most of this is a bit too rich for me.”

My head spins. I want to know everything about her. Except my tongue is tied in a knot, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot speak.

Izzy’s eyes are wide, looking down at the couch I’m sitting on. For a moment I wonder if she’s noticed how much trouble is going on in my pants, but when I look down, I see I’ve dug my claws into the soft fabric, and when I hastily withdraw them, I leave gaping holes.

“I…can pay…?” I suggest, not actually knowing whether I can or not.

I’ve no idea how to access the credits I might have earned, and on the limited occasions I have a pass to leave the dome, I get a tattoo because the pain searing my skin calms me. Gladiators always get free drink and occasionally food. Or at least, I’ve never paid for any.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Izzy says with a nervous smile. “But if there’s anything I can do to help you relax…”

She is trying to make herself look as small as possible. If anything, she’s farther away from me than she was while I ate.

I don’t like it. Myeregrishould not be afraid of me. I would kill to protect her.

“Don’t…touch.” The words come out through gritted teeth because I don’t want her to touch me, and I want her to touch me.

“Not touching, Blayn.” She holds her hands up, showing them to me. “But you do understand why you’re here, don’t you?”

“I understand. It doesn’t mean I have to comply,” I growl. “What the procurator wants is not what he gets.”

“And if you weren’t being forced to be here, what would you do?” Izzy asks.

“I’d be ripping out innards in the dome.” I grin. “I’m good at that.”

IZZY

Blayn’s indication of what he does for fun kills the mood somewhat. Not that there was much of a mood to begin with, given he’s all but destroyed the couch in the same way he’s demolished the food I put out for him. I don’t want to think of the state of the sanitary area either.

After his admission, things go quiet. He studies me like a predator watching prey for a while, then he paces around the room for a while, shaking his feathers until they’re dry, before he returns to the seating area and settles himself until the guards burst through the cubicle door again and he’s unceremoniously bundled out.

I clear up the remnants of the food, and having checked the disaster which is the sanitary area, I go to my cleaning cupboard. Madame made it clear that, until there is a replacement or I have more than one client, I’m still the cleaner. She didn’t want me “sitting about, causing trouble,” like that’s a thing I’ve ever done.

“Got him eating out of your hand yet?” Yelii says loudly into the confines of my little space, making me jump.

She’s wrinkling her flat nose up at the cleaning products and implements like she’s never seen them before in her life.

“Gryn aren’t hard to please,” she adds with a sneer.

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