Page 73 of Wayfinder
“Perhaps.”
Nansar’s green eyes bore into mine, and I honestly couldn’t tell whether or not he believed me. Thankfully, a moment later, he slouched into his seat and gave a disinterested wave.
“Well, you do owe me penance for the unauthorized landing. If you are so eager to enter the arena, who am I to keep you away?” Nansar jerked his chin, and the guards crowded around me once more. “We shall see your worth as a warrior, Sage. Take him to the arena.”
“You will release the human to my brethren?” I pressed, even though I had no intention of waiting for the Bardaga. I would find my Willa and make our escape.
“No. I have plans for the human.”
I swallowed back the growl that rose in my throat as the guards pressed me into motion. We exited the building, skirting along the edge of the area until we approached the smaller, one-room dwelling used to house the gladiators.
“You will dwell here, Sage. Meals are served at dawn and dusk.” The largest of the guards said, giving me a slight push toward a small abode. It smelled as musty and dusty as the last place.
The six guards didn’t glance back as they left me. I’m sure they thought the area was escape-proof. We would see, but first, I needed to find my mate.
I lifted my head and drew in a deep breath, letting the scents flow into my consciousness. There was the faint plastic scent of the protein porridge leftover from breakfast. The gamey scent of unwashed males was most prevalent, followed by the scent of sand and rock—earthy and fresh. I blew out my breath and tried again. The scent of an unkempt abode tickled my nostrils, and I nearly sneezed, but then…. Faint, like a whisper in the air, floral and spice, feminine and courageous.
Willa.
I followed the scent along an uneven stone walkway past the other stone houses until I reached the last building, abutting the escarpment. Three stone steps led into a darkened entryway. I took the first step, fighting the smile that threatened to break across my face at the idea of finally meeting my mate.
“What do you want here, Vaktaire?”
The male voice was low, threatening, and protective.
“I seek the human female Willa. I wish to speak to her.” I took another step, and the growl deepened, followed by a shuffle of movement as a figure stepped from the shadows.
Holy fucking goddess!
Adtovar.
I’d only met him once, during the dark days of my youth. He was older now but still tall, heavily muscled, and glaring at me with the murderous glint that made him famous.
The greatest gladiator in the universe.
Sunlight glinted off his pearlescent horns as he tilted his head, measuring me. Finally, his mouth curved, apparently unimpressed.
“You wish to see the human female Vaktaire? Then you must get through me.”
Epilogue - Jala
Jala stood watching the gathering of females. They seemed scared, and rightly so. She could only imagine the horrors they’d been through as part of Baron Oappo’s harem. Hopefully, today would be brighter for all of them.
There were fourteen females in all, each a different species, each one purchased as a pleasure slave. For the most part, they looked healthy and well-fed. Pearl had made sure of that. The females were well dressed, too. The Baron liked to show off his wealth and finery. However, some of the outfits, while made of extraordinarily expensive cloth, barely covered the necessities.
No, Jala couldn’t image what they endured.
Deema and Aqsa stood at the front of the group, silently elected as de facto leaders since they had interacted with Jala previously, although it seemed to do little to allay the trepidation in their eyes.
“Good morning, everyone.” Jala issued her brightest smile and gave a concerted effort to keep her voice upbeat. Still, some of the females shuddered in fear. “Do you know why you’ve been called together?”
Deema glanced around at her cohorts, eyes darkening. “Is it because of what happened to Baron Oappo?”
“Correct.” Again, Jala smiled and nodded. The fear in the female’s eyes made her heart ache.
“Is he… is he dead?” One of the harem girls, whose name she did not know, asked. The female was Romvesian and looked barely older than Priemba.
Jala couldn’t help smiling. If she were in their shoes, she might wish the Baron dead herself. “No.”
