Page 9 of Filthy Royal

“Delicious.” Her chest tightened. Five planetary rotations older than her, Luc always looked out for her as best he could.

Though he was more than twice her size, their familial connection was unmistakable. They had the same nose and hair color, though he kept his shorn close to his head so no one could use it against him during a fight.

But on the inside, they were so different. Luc might make his living as a warrior, but he chose not to fight outside the ring. He could have broken a hundred Consortium necks with his hands alone, but then he’d be dead. As would she. So, instead, he embraced his work as a trainer, accepted his lot as Consortium property, and asked for nothing more.

Which was why she never felt more alone than when spending time with him.

Scarlett returned the drained canister. “Thank you again.”

An uneasy silence filled the space.

Worse, the burn beneath her skin intensified. She fiddled with the cuff on her wrist. Her throat and wrists bothered her the most. She had no idea why.

Her brother broke the quiet at last. “How are you?”

She forced a bright smile and gave her usual response: “Fine.”

Usually, unless the lights were on her, her handlers paid her little attention. As if they couldn’t fathom that she had agency when they weren’t looking at her or she wasn’t following their commands. Still, it was smart not to take chances, and the truth would only hurt Luc anyway.

As if reading her thoughts, her brother leaned in close, his big body curling over hers as his breath whispered across her cheek. “I know this isn’t what we planned. I thought I’d have more time to gather funds—”

Scarlett brushed his words aside with the flick of the wrist. “It will be fine.”

When they were younger, he’d told her he’d become a great fighter and win enough prize money to buy her from the Consortium.

Even early on, she’d known it was a pipe dream.

Consortium fighters were never allowed to earn such riches. It made them too independent. Plus, the Consortium had invested too much to let either of them go. Ever. The one-time, lump sum Luc might have mustered to buy her would never equal what the company could earn from her over the long term as a prize attraction and brothel whore.

But she’d let Luc think she believed in his rosy future.

After all, what was one more lie between them?

“Whatever you’re planning, don’t.” His voice dropped even lower. “I’m already working on which fighters can be bribed. It won’t take much work to ensure Kadon Stormhart is the winner of the tournament.”

“Don’t. It’s too dangerous.”

“So is ending up with the wrong kind of Alpha.”

“It will be fine.” Again, she smiled wide.

They both understood the usual fate of tournament prizes. Most were claimed for only a short time by the Alpha who won the event. He used his untouched, virginal trophy until the shine wore off, then tossed her aside—right back into the Consortium’s clutches—where she was reabsorbed into the company. The prize was then quietly reassigned to a seedy second-tier pleasure house on the outer planets. Desolate places said to cater to every fetish, where even the most down-on-his-luck gambler could spend a few coins and rule like a king. Or a losing fighter could feel like a victor against someone half his size.

Scarlett shivered. It was a hellish fate.

And not one she intended to experience.

But Luc had a different means of escape in mind for her than she did. “No one will suspect tampering.” He pretended to fix the strap of her dress so he could lean in close once more. “Stormhart is expected to win anyway.”

Big brothers. They always believed they knew best. “It’s too early to tell and too chancy to count on.”

“And running isn’t? Remember what happened last time.”

She looked away, the memory wrapping around her throat like a meaty hand.

But she was careful to steady her voice by the time she beckoned her brother closer. Nars and the rest of security might be off sneaking an unsanctioned break while Egan dealt with other Consortium business, but they could return at any time. “This guard’s more reliable and willing to wait for payment until I’m settled. He said he could get hold of a tracker remover. He can also sneak me into a storage container on a shipping shuttle scheduled to depart from the dome during the main tournament.”

“Too unsafe and too good to be true. I can’t be with you this time. They’ll have me at the tournament. You need to accept that my plan is best.”

---