Page 55 of Chained

“See?” I say. “Even Tibi knows.”

I can feel how hard my Cleo is trying to hold herself together, so many emotions packed into this little mate.

“Here.” Retah returns, carrying a large metal box which he places on the floor next to me. He presses a glowing disc on the side, and it unfolds with a hiss and a puff of sealant which makes my wings flare.

As the white steam dissipates, I peer inside and see a set of armor, including a helmet. It gleams dully gold under the lights of the basement.

“What is this?”

“A little something I picked up in a forgotten corner of the galaxy,” Retah says proudly. “It’s supposed to be impenetrable. Not that I’ve ever tried it.”

I pick up the helmet. It has a high crest on the crown, sculpted to look almost like feathers. The cheek pieces are integral, curving down to protect all the way to my jawline. I give him a long look before I put the thing on my head.

Instantly, any residual pain I had vaporizes. It’s as if I’ve taken a huge dose of paraxio but without the narcotic effects.

“How is it?” Retah says.

“Good,” I reply, expecting my voice to sound hollow, like it does whenever I wear a helmet in the dome. But I don’t hear myself at all. It’s as if I’m not even wearing it. “Very good,” I add.

“You can wear the rest if you want,” he says. “Or not. Entirely up to you.”

I turn to my sweet mate. Her eyes are large as she studies me. “Wear the rest,” she says, her voice hoarse.

I get to my feet, strength flowing through me. I reach for the rest of the armor, a set of wrist guards, a shoulder guard, and a breast plate.

Each one is lighter than it appears. Cleo helps me on with the breast plate, bucking the straps between my wings and back to the base. Once it’s all on, it feels like a second skin.

“It looks…good on you,” Cleo breathes. “Very good.” I catch the perfume of her arousal.

“You like me in armor, little scrap?” I rasp.

“Might do,” she says, looking up at me through her eyelashes.

“You don’t have time for this,” Tibi interrupts. “Andsurelyyou both did enough mating last night?”

My sweet Cleo flushes pink at the Cirmos’ words, covering her mouth with her hand and her shoulders shaking.

“Our mating will take place wherever and whenever I deem it necessary,” I boom as Cleo gasps. “My mate is with young and she is insatiable.”

Cleo collapses into giggles and gasps. “You’re too much,” she finally forces out.

“Did I say anything which wasn’t true?”

Cleo shakes her head, a smile dancing over her lips. “Maybe not out loud though?” she suggests.

“I want to shout my mating from the stars because I’m the luckiest Gryn in the universe,” I respond, pulling her gently against me, wary of the breastplate and her tender form. “And now I will protect you ‘til my last breath.”

CLEO

It’s a tremendous relief to see Maxym back to his usual self. He is extra sexy in the armor, a cross between a Roman centurion and a cyborg but still my handsome-as-hell gladiator.

If we survive this, I might have to insist on regular armor time…

“The Bogarok have vacated the area, so my security system seems to have worked,” Retah says, studying his vid-screen. “Good thing too, given how much it cost.”

“They’ll be back,” Maxym growls as he slides his sword into a holster between his wings.

I do my best not to add to my already aroused state as I watch him. I’m still trying to understand what it is about pregnant little me which has attracted this huge gladiator. Turning into a puddle isn’t going to help anyone.

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