Page 22 of Bound (Gladiators of the Gryn #3)

RYCH

Chrissie makes an effort to protest, but she’s soon silent as I press my hand under her delicious behind, doing some teasing of my own while I plot just what I can do to her later when we stop for the night.

With her in my arms, we make much better progress, and it’s not long before the settlement appears between the undulations of the land. My feathers itch the closer we get. I don’t like the idea of taking my mate into an unknown place. A place where gladiators are not respected.

Although, given the way I was treated back in Tatatunga, the lack of respect here is likely to result in some potential issues for the inhabitants, if they’re that way inclined. I have no intention of behaving myself while I have a mate to nest for.

“You can put me down now,” Chrissie says.

Reluctantly, I put her on her feet, and she straightens her clothing. I pull her coat out from the pack, and she shrugs it on as we walk through the dusty outskirts heading into the main trading areas.

Like many places on Trefa, in the provinces I’ve visited, this town is a spiral. From a central market, there are increasing levels of wealth away from the main thoroughfares, some of which can only be accessed by air transport. In this particular settlement’s case, the spirals ring up on the natural hills which surround it, creating numerous tiers which are oppressive.

“Where do you think we should go?” Chrissie whispers to me, holding onto my arm.

Heads turn as we walk down one of central streets. All the traffic is, as far as I can tell, airborne. The ground is left for those who walk. The settlement itself is a mix of Tref, those native to Trefa, tall and graceful, and numerous other species including Lepke, Yetag, and Oykig.

I get the impression they have not seen a Gryn, or a human, before.

“We need information,” I say to Chrissie.

“Where?”

“I find most taverns are the place to ask.”

She grips my arm a little tighter as I steer us towards an establishment which looks hopeful. As soon as the door slides open, the noise inside abates.

Perhaps not so hopeful after all.

I put my feathers on end, flicking out my wings and extending my claws as I stride inside, making sure Chrissie stays close as we approach the serving area. A stocky Zarvu stands behind it, eyeing me warily.

“Gryn.” He nods. “Don’t often get gladiators here.”

“I’m not a gladiator,” I respond.

“Unlikely,” the Zarvu says. “All Gryn on Trefa are gladiators. I should know.”

“You’ve worked in the dome.”

He stops wiping a rag over the surface in front of him. “My brother did.”

Vrex! This is not going well. I check around me, looking for weapons, looking for threats.

“He said the Gryn were treated worse than the beasts they were set to kill.” The Zarvu shakes his head. “To think Tatatunga was once considered more refined than Kal.”

“Kal?” Chrissie queries, and the Zarvu strains his neck to see her. My lips ripple with a snarl I cannot control. “Where is Kal?”

“You’re standing in it,” the Zarvu says. “Such as it is.”

“I need somewhere for my mate to rest and transport back to Tatatunga in the morning,” I say in order to get his attention away from Chrissie.

“I have rooms,” he says. “Not here, down a way. You’ll be wanting the baths too, I reckon,” he adds with a crooked smile on his horned face.

The thought of a bath makes all my feathers prick at once. I do my level best not to react. But by the look he gives me, I don’t think I’ve managed.

“My mate needs food too.”

“That can be arranged.”

I look down at my Chrissie. She’s dusty and she looks tired. We could spend the next nova-hour looking for rooms, rather than taking the first ones we come across, but I don’t want to put her under any more strain.

“We’ll take it,” I growl.

I can only hope Fenek made good on his promise to pay me, or I’ll be having an awkward discussion with the Zarvu later.

We’re handed a small key chip and given directions to the rooms the Zarvu rents out. He claims there are baths underneath which will be big enough for a fully grown Gryn.

I highly doubt it.

“The whole of Kal is fed by hot springs. You’ll find them better than anything you can get in Tatatunga,” he claims.

My feathers shake slightly, something I stop straight away when a small hand slips into them at the very base. I actually feel my knees buckle slightly at her touch in a place no one ever has.

“If you know what’s good for you,” I murmur. “You’ll take care what you touch.”

Chrissie looks innocently up at me and pushes her fingers farther in, the tips sweeping my skin. My eyes roll in my head, thoughts of nesting, of mating, of a ripe little female at the very center consuming me.

Then the hand is gone. The Zarvu stares at me. I growl, taking Chrissie’s hand and ushering her out of the bar.