Page 18 of Baited

Blayn spears some rare roasted meat on one claw, shoves it in his mouth with a sigh, and then sits back briefly.

But it’s not for long. Those eyes are concentrated on me. For what seems like an eternity, but can only be a few seconds, he holds my gaze, and I’m mesmerised.

Then, in a swift, easy movement, he flicks out a wing and begins combing through his feathers with those vicious claws. Only now they don’t look vicious at all. His eyelids grow heavy as he concentrates on his task, sliding through each primary feather one by one.

“Have you always been a gladiator?” I ask him, keeping my voice quiet and even.

Blayn pauses in his work, eyes flicking to me, before he continues on smoothing down his wing.

“I don’t know. None of us do,” he says.

“You were brought here from somewhere else?” I don’t want to fire questions at him, but I am intrigued by this huge killer who likes to bathe, and eat, and preen his feathers.

“Don’t remember. Maybe.” He fills his lungs and releases a long breath. “There is dark and light, that’s all.” His gaze comes back to me. “And you.”

“I was taken from my planet, a place called Earth,” I say, more to fill the shock which has reverberated through me at his ‘and you’ comment. “I was an author.”

His eyebrows draw together.

“Orth-her?” he repeats, attempting to get his mouth round what is an obviously unfamiliar word.

“I wrote stories, and other humans read them. I like to think they enjoyed them,” I say, sadly.

Now I can’t even read on this planet, let alone write. And what would I write? Sci-Fi romance? I haven’t seen a single blue horned alien since I was dumped on Trefa.

“That sounds…nice?” Blayn seems confused by the sentiment.

“It was nice,” I reply.

“Better than here?” he asks, going back to combing through his feathers.

“Less chance of death.” I shrug. “More freedom too, so yes, better than here.”

He flicks his wing back. Those beautiful eyes, starlight dancing in them, are gazing at me, fathomless, and yet burning with something other than violence.

“Freedom,” he breathes, his chest expanding as he fills my vision and leans forward. “Freedom to be mine.”

The air is electric. I can only take in a breath, not release it. I can’t look away from him. Something tugs in my mind, something primal, something between fear and desire. Something which is not me.

Blayn is so close to me, I could almost touch him. He could almost kiss me…

Behind us the door crashes open, and he jerks away, on his feet and raging at the Zarvu, one of whom casually takes out a pulsar and shoots Blayn, who easily dodges the blast.

“Gladiator. Cease,” the huge Xnosson bull says, filling the doorway. “You are required to return to the arena immediately for the games.”

Blayn snorts at the guard but doesn’t resist further as his wrists are bound by two more Zarvu.

“I’ll deal with you later,” the bull snarls at the guard who shot at Blayn. “Back to the dome,” he adds in a slightly less aggressive way to the massive Gryn.

Blayn shakes out his wings, turns to me, and gives me one of his short bows, the type I saw him do in the arena.

I’m not sure how to react, not after what went on between us still somehow hanging in the air, and before I can do anything at all, he’s hustled out of the door, a mass of dark feathers, dark hair, and tattoos.

And my life seems somewhat empty once again.

BLAYN

Klynn rains blows down on me, hacking at my sword as I attempt to slam him in the head with a wing. Something I eventually manage and hit him hard enough he moves back, shaking his head.

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