Page 21 of Bound (Gladiators of the Gryn #3)
CHRISSIE
Rych jogs to catch up with me, his great wings bouncing as he jumps from rock to rock and finally lands at my side.
“Hello, little spark.” He grins, showing far too much fang.
I love teasing him, but something deep within my stomach knows I’m poking the bear. Rych is going to make me pay for every single sass, and in turn, the tingle inside slips to my core. It makes me want to talk back even more, just to see what he will do.
Because despite nearly dying up in the sky, here on the ground, with him, I’ve never felt more alive. I just wish the rest of my body would agree with me.
Still, I’m surprised how well I’m doing on the rough terrain without my stick. My knee and ankle seem to be holding up, and I wonder if perhaps I’ve become too reliant on the thing. At least until I feel it give way, and I stumble into Rych, who catches me with a growl.
A noise which makes me go soft inside. A noise I wish he wouldn’t make because I’d like to do terrible things to him when he does.
“Careful, my mate,” he rumbles. “If you will not be carried, at least hold on to me.”
He offers his arm, and I take hold of his bicep, the thing being almost as wide as my thigh. It’s a steadying influence which I’m grateful for even as the path smooths out and becomes less rocky.
This side of the mountain range is not as barren as where we crashed, as far as I can tell. There are trees, albeit small, bushy things which sprout a range of colored leaves. Here and there are patches of vegetation, some tall, some short, all of which waves blue-green fronds in a non-existent wind. The ground beneath our feet consists of grey dust streaked with deep red, like strata, my boots becoming covered in a pink dust as we continue on our way from the foothills onto undulating land which seems deserted and uncultivated.
As the suns rise, the warmth increases, and I strip off my coat, which Rych shoves into his pack even as I protest I can carry it.
Protests I know I will regret later, given Rych’s glower.
The heat permeates my bones as we continue to walk. Rather than feeling tired, I feel invigorated. Rych points out the occasional bit of flora as we pass, telling me how the clerks in the dome use certain items as medicines.
“I’d have thought everything would be synthetic, given your level of tech.”
Rych furrows his brow. “I don’t think so. Did your world not make cures from plants?”
“Yes, it did. But”—I wave my hands vaguely at my surroundings—“my planet had only been able to put people on our nearest moon. Our tech is way behind yours.”
“Not my tech,” Rych grumps. “I use tech, I know tech, but I don’t like it.”
“Why?” I lift my chin, already knowing I’m probably going to burn, but not caring for a change, not when I feel so warm and happy.
“Don’t remember,” Rych says.
“You don’t remember much, do you?” I respond without thinking.
Rych is silent for a while.
“Most of the Gryn from the dome have little memory of their time before,” he finally says. “Sylas found out his memories were wiped by an enemy of the Gryn. As for the rest of us, I’m not sure. All I know is I woke up in a facility which sold me to the dome.”
My heart goes into a dead spin.
“You were sold…like a slave? But slavery is forbidden on Trefa!” I exclaim.
“Only overt slavery. The council turns a blind eye to those who are traded without any ceremony,” Rych growls. “But I was not a slave. The procurators of the dome are not stupid. They pay for us, but then we have to pay back our purchase price through fighting. And pay for our board, training, medic-assistance, and food. We are indentured, most of us.” He sighs.
“So, you paid off your debts and you are free?”
Rych laughs harshly. “I wish that was the case. One of my fellow gladiators, with the help of his mate, found out our transactions were void, and I was released from my debts, out into Tatatunga without a credit to my name.”
“Freedom at a price,” I reply.
I find myself caught in a pair of strong arms, a set of dark eyes looking down at me. “If the price means I found you, my sweet mate, it was a price worth paying. Freedom might not be what I wanted, but it was worth every fight, every injury, and every lost credit.”
“I’m so sorry, Rych,” I say quietly. “For everything.”
“You set me free, my eregri. ” He stops suddenly, pulling me against his hard abs. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It is those who had me in the facility who are the ones who should answer for what they did.”
He presses a kiss to my lips, possessing my mouth and making my mind go entirely blank. When I’m released, he has to hold me up.
Rych might have pretended he was something immovable, something fixed, but he’s even more mixed up than me.
“Now can I carry you?” he asks.
“Oh? Was all of this a ruse to get me into your arms?” I laugh.
“Everything I do to get you is entirely calculated,” Rych rumbles, lifting me into his arms. “And every single tease you’ve made me endure in the last three nova-hours will result in payment…later.”