Page 70 of Aria's Ascension

Retaking his place by her side, he lay down and drew her into her chest then smiled tenderly when she turned to press her ear over his hearts. Even in slumber, she watched over him.

To be her mate was an honor he did not think he would ever earn. In that, he understood Thrasin all too well.

But, it was one he would watch worlds burn to keep.

Chapter 38

Aria was roused from sleep by someone shaking her and calling her name. The scent of something bitter and cloying stung her nose, and it was harder than it should’ve been to pry her eyes open. When she finally succeeded, everything was oddly blurry.

Her barbarian’s muffled, demanding voice had her trying to turn to face him, but her head was so heavy. Her entire body felt weighed down, almost numb.

“My heart… we… must… go… ”

“Red,” she slurred.

Something was wrong. A weak spurt of adrenaline had her heart skipping a beat, but it was quickly smothered by the overwhelming lethargy spreading through her.

She knew this feeling. She was being drugged.

She tried to fight it, but sleep ruthlessly hauled her back under.

* * *

Zhrovni enteredthe cave in which Vhraress and her males lay unconscious with a pained grunt and leaned against the wall while his remaining security force continued on to roll Zvikah onto the gravity stretcher.

He’d spent the last two days in the healing chamber, the circlet passing up and down his ravaged body too many times to count, until he’d finally been pulled from the brink of death.

He was still limping and in pain, his once beautiful form covered in patches of raw flesh where he’d been scorched, and his newly grown leg was weak and barely supported his weight. His personal healer, one of his Gaelli slaves, tried to insist that he remain in the chamber until he was whole, but he refused.

He’d waited for his revenge long enough.

The entire time he’d been in the chamber, wracked with agonizing pain, he’d been fantasizing about how he was going to punish Vhraress for the unjust and inexcusable horrors she’d committed upon his person.

What would hurt that ungrateful jeleking slave the most?

He considered torture, vivisection, and killing her outright, but none of those would inflict the kind of pain he needed her to endure. He almost decided on giving her an extra dose of hormones then releasing her into the Mating Games, knowing she was Aware and, yet, wouldn’t be able to stop herself from accepting any who tried to mount her. He might still do that, but it would have to wait, because he thought of something that would cause her far more pain.

Her mates.

Zhrovni did not pretend to understand it. Mates were disposable, to be used for procreation only then discarded once they’d served their purpose. But, she felt affection for hers.

He was going to take the barbarian, torture him, then return him to Vhraress, broken and maimed, in time for her to see the life fade from his eyes. She would be forced to watch, helplessly, as he died. Once he was dead, Zhrovni would take Vezriirax and do the same to him.

Then, and only then, would he put her into the Mating Games.

Maybe there, she could earn him back some of the credits she’d cost him by forcing him to kill two of his best gladiators. She could mourn her dead mates, knowing their deaths were all her fault, while being mounted over and over again until she, herself, was broken and maimed, all while his viewers watched on with glee.

It was beautiful in its symmetry.

After all, he’d suffered more than just physical injuries so she must, as well.

The other Overlords ridiculed him, now, viewed him as weak and unable to control his slaves, his viewership had fallen dramatically, and the Federation was sniffing around, having heard rumors he was keeping slaves who’d attained Awareness instead of granting them freedom and relinquishing them for examination and assimilation into the populous. As if he would ever let her be anything other than what she was: a slave.Hisslave.

No, she would suffer, just as he was suffering.

Once Zvikah was secured to the gravity stretcher, Zhrovni pushed off the wall and limped up to Vhraress’s prone form.

With a smile curling his beak, he hauled his good leg back and kicked her, hard, in the stomach then stomped on the hideous globes of fat growing from her chest. Sadistic pleasure had his prongs hardening when she grunted at the impact, even as he stumbled and gasped at the pain that shot up his new leg.

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