Page 48 of Bound to the Bounty Hunter

I heard a harsh metallic screech. Dr. Zhen’la’s towering form filled the open doorway, his mandibles clicking in what I’d come to recognize as amusement.

“Time’s up, children,” he chittered. “I hope you enjoyed your little reunion.”

Zhen’la’s clawed hand clamped down on my arm, yanking me away from Arkon. I twisted, jerking my arm free from his grasp. My skin crawled where he’d touched me. I straightened my spine and lifted my chin, meeting his luminous gaze.

“I have a proposition for you, Dr. Zhen’la,” I said, injecting steel into my voice.

His mandibles clicked. “Oh? And what might that be, my dear?”

I clenched my hands into fists, nails digging into my palms to stop the shaking. “Better quarters for Arkon. A proper bed,medical care, decent food. In exchange...I’ll go back to work for you.”

“Samira, no!” Arkon lunged forward, only to be stopped by the cell’s energy barrier. “Don’t do this. I can handle whatever they throw at me.”

I turned to him, my heart aching at the desperation in his eyes. “I can’t watch you die in that arena because they’re not feeding you, Arkon. I won’t. Even Vinduthi healing can’t work if there’s nothing to work with.”

Zhen’la’s laughter filled the cramped space, a chittering sound that made my whole body shiver. “How delightfully amusing. The little human, trying to bargain for her lover’s comfort.”

“Do we have a deal or not?” I snapped, turning back to face him.

Zhen’la’s antennae twitched, and I could almost see the calculations running behind those compound eyes. “Very well,” he said at last. “I accept your terms. Arkon will be moved to accommodations that better suit him. And you, my dear, will return to the lab first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Samira, please,” Arkon’s voice was raw with emotion. “Don’t do this. Not for me.”

I met his gaze, willing him to understand. “I have to, Arkon. I can’t lose you.”

Zhen’la’s clawed hand steered me away from the cell. As we walked down the corridor, his mandibles clicked near my ear. “Oh, and Samira? I do hope you weren’t planning anything foolish. Remember, Arkon’s continued health depends entirely on your cooperation.”

I clenched my fists, anger and fear warring within me. “I understand.”

“Excellent,” Zhen’la purred. “Now, let’s discuss your new project. I believe you’ll find it quite... fascinating.”

ARKON

Istepped inside my new living quarters. The cell was larger than the previous one, with actual furniture instead of just a hard slab for a bed. A small table and chair occupied one corner, while a narrow but serviceable cot lined the opposite wall.

The air smelled fresher, lacking the musty odor of my old cell. A thin sliver of a window high up on the wall allowed a hint of natural light to filter through. It wasn’t freedom, but it was a definite upgrade.

My jaw clenched as I thought of Samira. This improvement came at a cost – her cooperation with that bastard Zhen’la. The thought of her working in his lab, potentially furthering his twisted plans, made my blood boil. But I knew she was clever. She’d find a way to sabotage his work, buy us time until we could escape.

I paced the length of the cell, listening to the sounds of other inhabitants nearby. Grunts, snarls, and the occasional clash of metal against metal filtered through the walls. The pit fighters – my new neighbors.

A buzzer sounded, and the door opened again. I tensed, ready for a threat, but it was merely an indication that we were allowed into the common area. I stepped outcautiously, immediately assessing my surroundings and the other occupants.

The room was filled with a menagerie of species, each more dangerous-looking than the last. And all of them seemed to be marked with various colors.

What for? Teams? Gangs?

Two Krell, their scaled hides covered in bony protrusions, wore red and gold as they sparred in one corner, while a lone Volcryn, its multiple eyes constantly shifting, sat alone, methodically sharpening a set of wickedly curved blades, clad in bright blue and silver. Nearby, a group of fighters huddled, discussing recent trades and upcoming matches, all with armbands or sashes, colors and patterns making a code I didn’t understand.

Not yet, at least.

I kept my expression neutral, moving to an unoccupied section of wall where I could observe without drawing attention. Years of bounty hunting had taught me the value of blending in, even in a crowd as eclectic as this.

“Fresh meat,” a guttural voice growled. The crowd parted, revealing a massive, scarred Mondian. His dragon-like features were twisted into a sneer as he approached me. “You must be Zhen’la’s big investment. The Vinduthi he thinks will buy him a place in our league.”

I remained silent, assessing the Mondian. He was easily a foot taller than me, his muscled frame speaking of countless battles. Scars crisscrossed his scaled hide, and one of his horns had been broken off at some point.

“What’s the matter?” he taunted, leaning in close. His breath reeked of rotting meat. “Vaunted Vinduthi warrior too good to speak to us lowly gladiators?”

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