Page 1 of Bound to the Alien Gladiator
Chapter One
I used to love the smell of sweets in the morning, but now I can only associate it with the scent of alien blood. It soaked into the ground, seeped into my clothes, and coated the short blade I held in my right hand. My grip clenched around the bone handle. I had only one mantra running through my head: stay alive.
If that ridiculous vortex hadn’t sucked my ship in and dragged it down to this ludicrous planet with its self-destructive population, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I dropped off my last shipment, as planned, and was off to the next delivery. It’d been weeks since I’d crashed on this planet and been forced into Atroba’s gladiator games. I’d made it through one violent pool of opponents, using my wit, smaller human size, and flexibility to maim and kill for the pleasure of the crowds. With each gruesome win, I gained boons from a small crowd of supporters. However, in this final battle, the traction shoes and extra water wouldn’t save me.
The Champion, the pinnacle of the most recent gladiator pool, sized me up as we circled each other. He loomed over me at six foot five, his near pitch-black scales gleaming dully under the harsh sunlight. The coarse texture felt rough to the eye. A tinywhite loincloth barely concealed his manhood. His hands were the size of my face and surprisingly smooth and cool to the touch when I’d gotten a little too close earlier.
I’d seen him pin opponents to the hot sand and slice them open from chin to groin. The yellow bioluminescent lines that swirled up his muscular arms, across his powerful chest, and down his abs to disappear under his loincloth, spiked brightly with each hit he landed. The only soft thing about him was his arm-length, dread-like tentacles he had for hair, and as far as I could determine, they were his only real vulnerability. He was a vicious fighter, but when an opponent had sliced an end off, he’d brutally ended them in a move too quick for the screens in the cells to track.
His intense, bright green eyes locked on me, cataloging my every move. His gaze constantly roved the pit we battled in, his tentacle hair following a short moment behind, but he always came back to me. His intensity was on the edge of excitement, if he wasn’t trying to kill me. It was a shame we hadn’t met in different circumstances. He had a body I would’ve loved to explore in a safer environment.
The Champion across from me feinted left, but I held my ground. Any sign of weakness would cause my immediate death and dismemberment to the joy of the crowd filling the stadium. Silence hung in the air as they watched, curious about how long I could withstand this giant man trying to destroy me.
It was a shame Atroba wouldn’t provide armor for this spectacle. The dirt-streaked white tank top and short shorts that I’d worn since the crash offered little protection against my opponent’s weapons. Though, they’d served as a pleasurable distraction for other less professional opponents and given me an edge. Along with my smaller, more nimble size, that had kept me alive.
Dry dirt dusted the air and coated my tongue. Sunlight cut through my line of sight, and I flinched to the left, but it was already too late. The Champion slammed into me, and my knife flung out of my grasp. I hit the ground hard. Pinned beneath him, I gasped for air. The Champion’s dark, earthy scent filled my nostrils—black tea steeped to a powerful intensity, with a hint of something dark, smoky, and almost dangerous.
His scales scraped the exposed skin of my stomach as he leaned close, his bright green eyes glowing from within. “Take the fall.”
The crowd chanting ‘death’ made it difficult to pick up his low voice. When I finally sifted through his words, irritation spiked. I hadn’t fought off every fucking alien in the galaxy to get here, including the chameleon-like lizard, the ridiculous alien with the rejuvenating limbs, and a prehistoric dinosaur with spikes, to take a fall.
“Never.” I struggled in his grasp.
With little room to maneuver, I freed my arm, opened my hand, and swung. My palm slapped over his ear hard enough that my fingers stung.
Shouting, he rolled off me, and I scrambled to my feet. My toes dug into the dirt as I sprinted to the weapons rack. The small knife I’d grabbed would not keep me alive, not against the thickness of his innate armor.
The ground thundered behind me as the Champion closed in. My adrenaline spiked. I pushed my sore and abused muscles harder. I needed a new weapon before he got to me. My survival depended on it.
Rough fingers brushed my bare shoulder, and I spun out from under his grasp. He growled, and fear surged. This was one fight I would not win, no matter how many tricks I pulled. I needed to face this head on, fight dirty, and survive.
I pivoted and faced the charging male. He stopped a foot and a half from me. His chest heaved as he opened and closed his hands. I took a step back. The Champion was a towering figure who appeared no worse for the wear after fighting for days on end. A medley of scabs, bruises, and abrasions covered me from this rough sand. His only visible injury was the bright yellow blood dripping from the ear drum I’d destroyed. If I could get close enough to strike again, I’d try for more permanent damage.
An icy dread washed over me as his shadow loomed, each step a thunderclap in the suffocating silence. His lips barely moved when he said, “Take a fall.”
I crouched. My heart raced as sweat dripped down the side of my face, stinging the abrasion on my cheek. “Stop playing with me.”
Why else would he continue to say he wanted me to give in?
“Female, you cannot win. The overseer has seen to it.” He circled me as the crowd chanted his name. “The only thing that can save you from death is me.”
I mimicked his movements to bide my time. My mind raced. Atroba, the female who ran this gladiator pit, was hellbent on providing a good show no matter how many beings she ran through. The bigger the bloodbath, the better the show.
Atroba, the overseer of all gladiators, wasn’t a fan of mine, but she didn’t like anyone. I’d learned the best way to stay on her good side was to keep winning and sucking up whenever she stopped by, which was virtually never. After my last battle, I’d somehow managed to insult her when she came to see the warrior who’d survived. Shortly after, when I heard the Champion would be my next opponent, I realized my time was short.
Everyone in the pit knew we were only as valuable as entertainment, and there were always more aliens to take our places when we fell out of favor. Still, I didn’t trust the words of an unknown male in a death-centered arena. I was better than that and smarter too.
I stepped back closer to my dropped knife. “How can you save me? We’re both playthings on a planet without rules.”
He shrugged. “I am the Champion.”
Rage flooded me, and I catalogued every joint, scar, and weakness I could use against him. “I’m going to kick your ass.”
“You can try.” He smirked.
Hightailing it, I dove for the bone handle and rolled to my feet with my blade in hand. Now that I was armed, he seemed more uneasy as he held his hands out to his sides.
I pointed at his scars with the tip of the knife. “Someone cut you before.”
