Page 23 of Chained

“It is the only way.”

Cleo shakes her head, sidesteps me, and goes back to sorting her weapons.

I stand, arms by my sides, feathers itching with the need for her. The taste of the water from her eyes only fuels the fire within me.

“Come eat with me.” It’s all I can think of.

“I’m supposed to go back to Retah’s,” she says.

“Do you require your employer’s approval to have a meal?” I growl. If she is a slave, I will ensure her bonds are broken.

“No, only I have three nova-hours before I’m working again. It’s my only option.”

Now I smile. I smile like I haven’t done in a very long time.

“It’s not your only option,” I respond. “I can show you the dome, provide you with sustenance. I am here to protect your person, after all.”

Cleo stares at me, her fingers poised over the locking mechanism of the weapons bin.

I think she’s going to reject me, and if she does, I’m not sure what I’ll do. I can’t take her by force, but I can’t leave her alone.

She is my mate. She is my everything, and the sooner I claim her and her young entirely, the sooner she can be installed in my nest, forever.

Cleo takes in a breath. “Okay, show me the dome.”

CLEO

Maxym looks smug at his suggestion. My heart twists in my chest. After all, he’s just been both boorish and then incredibly kind.

I don’t know what to do. Every option open to me leads somewhere I can’t control the outcome, and I’m so, so tired of it.

“Okay,” I say. “Show me the dome.”

His feathers prick briefly, almost as if he wasn’t expecting my response, despite his confident exterior.

A tour of the dome, while not exactly my thing, is a distraction I need.

“This way.” He offers me his hand, an old-fashioned gesture I appreciate.

I take it, and he leads me out of the armory, turning right rather than left as we have done before. We make our way through the maze-like structure, occasionally encountering an Oykig or Zarvu, both of whom give us a curious look, but put their heads down and keep on going.

Each time I look at Maxym, he’s entirely impassive, which makes me think he’s on his best behavior.

The interior of the passages changes from scuffed and utilitarian to soft flooring underfoot, mood lighting and colorchanging walls. I’m steered to the right by him, and almost without warning, we push through a set of double doors into the vast arena, covered by the dome.

We’re about halfway up the stands, I guess, and yet the roof is still way, way above us. I see something which looks like a cloud over the other side, and as we watch, a flock of brightly colored podis flap past. I’ve seen the creatures outside the dome, a cross between a bat and a bird, but seeing them inside this structure brings home just how big it is.

Beside me, Maxym shifts his wings, all of his being concentrated on the little podis, eyes filled with interest.

“Do you…get to fly in here?” I ask him.

“It’s the only place I can fly.” He releases my hand to hike up his pants. Around his right leg is something which looks like a tattoo, only raised. “Tracker. If I attempt to lift off the ground outside of the dome, it will bring me down,” he adds darkly.

“But you are allowed to leave, sometimes?”

“I get the occasional pass.” He shrugs. “If the procurator thinks I’ve done well and I haven’t…” He pauses while he searches for the words. “Done other things.”

“What happens if you fly now, from here?” I gaze out at the arena, imagining Maxym in the air.

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