Page 47 of Red Fire

Tank laughs. “Afraid?” He shakes his head, laughing harder. “If that male hadn’t stolen you when he did, your lover over there would already be dead, female. I can kill him with one hand tied behind my back. Creed is a weakling.”

“If that is the case, why not let him take part?” she says loudly so that everyone can hear.

“Because it wouldn’t be right.” Tank looks out over the large gathering of males. Most of them are in their human form. “The male said he didn’t want to claim the human. He made himself very clear. The culling games are about to begin. You need to get yourself gone, Creed.”

“The female made herself clear. She wants me to stand as her champion. I was trying to do the right thing. Trying to get her back home, but plans have changed. I wish to claim the female,” I shout. “I wish to take part in the culling games.”

“Go away!” Tank shouts. “I suggest you do so while you can still shift. While you can still breathe.”

Several males start to move in, their eyes on me. With me gone, there would be one male less to fight. One less standing in the way of the prize.

Octavia.

“I want Creed to stand as my champion,” Octavia shouts, taking my lead.

“Do you know what that means, female?” Tank says. “I’d take a guess that you don’t.”

“I know what it means,” she says, her eyes on me. She doesn’t have a clue.

“It means that Creed will get to fight the dragon who wins. The dragon who beats all the males you see before you. The final battle in each round is to the death. Your champion will die. Creed will die, and you will have to mate the male who kills him. You will have to carry his babies, and warm his bed. All of it. Can you do that, female?”

Her face drains of all color.

For a moment, I am worried that she will change her mind. If she does, I will be banished from taking part in the games. I will have to leave or be killed by this horde.

She looks at me, her gaze burning into mine. “Creed is my champion. Hewillwin. It ishisbed I will warm.” She looks at me like she means it. For a moment, it feels good, but then I remind myself that it is all a show. Octavia doesn’t really mean it. She wants to go home.

I bow my head to her. We need to find a way to escape before the final battle. I can’t shoulder her fate. I refuse. The ache in my torso tells me that a final battle would be a strain on me. I’m not at full capacity. Broken bones will take several days to heal. I don’t have that long. I’ll have to find another way out of this.

Tank grins. “Have it your way, but be reminded that the male who stands against the champion in the end will have all the say over how the battle will take place. The advantage will be with them and not with you, Creed.”

Octavia starts crying softly.

“It’s too late for tears,” Tank says as he shoves her toward me. Octavia lands on her knees before me with a yelp.

I close the distance between us, helping Octavia to her feet.

She throws her arms around me, burying her head in my chest.

“Enjoy her while you can.” Tank chuckles. “But don’t you dare put your seed inside her or try to mate her to prevent the games from taking place. The penalty will be death. The penalty for the female will be so much worse.”

Octavia shudders against me. She’s trying hard to hold in her tears and failing. I keep my arms tightly around her, trying to reassure her and failing. How can I reassure her when I don’t feel confident?

“Unlike you, I am a male of honor,” I tell Tank.

Tank snarls and starts toward me. Another male puts his hand on Tank’s chest. “Save it for the ring,” he says.

“Listen to Pyro,” I tell Tank. “I will follow the rules; don’t you worry.”

Tank growls at me; his eyes are blazing and filled with hate.

“The first bout will begin at midday, with the final bout is scheduled for first light,” Pyro says. “It has been many years since there were culling games,” the male shouts, looking out over the gathering. “But you all still know the rules. We need to follow them or, as Tank rightly stated, the penalty is death.”

A cheer goes through the crowd, followed by deafening silence. The only sounds are the gentle sniffs of the female in my arms.

17

Octavia

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