Page 52 of Bound (Gladiators of the Gryn #3)

RYCH

“No! NO!” I roar as Chrissie goes limp in my arms, but this time she is not pretending. “You will save her,” I snarl at Felia. “You did this, you will undo this.”

“I cannot. I warned you, Gryn. The virus will kill her. I can remove it now, but she will still be dead.”

My mate cannot be dead, she cannot. I can still feel her in my breast, in my heart. Her body is still warm. I won’t accept her death.

I will not accept her death.

I level the pulsar at Felia.

“If you kill me, then you’ll never know the truth, and your mate has no chance at all.”

“With my mate dead, I don’t want the truth,” I respond. “I have nothing left to live for.”

“Ah, , we all know you live for the credits,” Felia says nastily. “That’s all that matters to you.”

I say nothing and it clearly irritates her. She wants a response.

“Well, Gryn? You’re usually so talkative, so full of action. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m wondering if Drahon limbs grow back like Oykig tails.” I cock my head to one side and look over her. “And I’m wondering if it’s as painful.”

For the first time, Felia’s face contains an expression. And it’s one of fear.

Now she is speaking my language.

“Put her over there.” Felia points to an unpleasantly familiar specimen table, covered in straps and bristling with bot arms. “Maybe she’s not dead enough.”

I lay Chrissie down, gently brushing her hair away from her face. She doesn’t open her eyes and my heart curls in on itself. I want her with me. I want her by my side, in my nest. If I can’t have her, I will destroy everything which led to her being no more.

“Let me see,” Felia demands.

I spin, pointing the pulsar at her, and she remains impassive. I stand aside.

The specimen table hums, and my brain seems to go into free fall at the sound. Pain spears through my head for a nova-second. I shake it and concentrate on what Felia is doing.

“You won’t remember, Gryn. Even if you think you do. I did the best job removing your memories.”

“Of course you did,” I growl. “Because you didn’t want me to kill you on the spot.”

Her shoulders rise slightly, then they drop again. “Good guess.”

“It’s not a guess. Memories aren’t everything. It’s not the way Gryn work. Our nature runs deeper than memories. My mate taught me that.”

She half turns, her eyes narrowing. “So, you know…”

One of her machines lets out a strangled chime, and she suddenly turns back, all her attention concentrated on a small vid-screen.

“This can’t be right,” she mutters.

“What is it?” I lean a little closer.

Felia whirls around and shoves a hypo-syringe into my chest, emptying the contents into me. I go to brush her away as my vision fills with delightful colors.

“Arm or leg?” I growl, grabbing hold of her before she gets away.

“You won’t be able to do anything soon, Gryn. This was one of your favorite narcotics.”

“Arm or leg?” I repeat, towing her with me as I stumble back from Chrissie and the specimen table.

I know the Drahon, this Drahon, had me before I was in the facility. I know she took me from somewhere. But other than that, the pain in my head, dulled by what she’s injected into me—there is nothing.

I recall what Sylas told us all, not to go poking about for memories, and right now, they mean nothing. Chrissie is everything.

“Arm or leg?” I snap.

“You wouldn’t,” she retorts. “You want me to save your mate. You need me.”

“But you don’t need all your limbs, so pick one.” My head spins.

“Gak you, Gryn. The gakking narcotic usually has you on the floor by now.”

“You sent me to the dome. I got stronger. I got better,” I snarl. “I got wiser. So, pick, Drahon. Most creatures I face in the dome don’t get a choice. You don’t deserve one either, but I want you to save my mate.”

Her movements are blurry, but I see her hand dart under a console. I fire, but the bolt goes wild and instead, pain sears through my leg, causing me to fall back, all the breath expelling from my body as I hit the floor.

Felia stands over me, looking down with an expression of disgust.

“I never understood why my mother put such time and effort into Gryn. Not only are you all the same, you’re all uncontrollable, feral things which should be put down at?—”

Her words are cut off as a thin wire wraps itself around her body multiple times, right up to her neck, and she’s jerked upwards, away from me, with a strangled cry of pain.

I stare upwards, wondering what’s going on until my heart pounds, and I know I have to get to my mate. As I struggle to sit up, there’s a bot next to my leg, peeling back my pants where there is a wound. I go to bat it away.

“No, !” The beautiful voice has me looking up, my vision blurring with the sudden movement.

I’m not sure I can trust my eyes.

Chrissie is there. She’s standing upright. She looks better than ever, stunning, delicious, in need of being mated over and over. She needs a nest, and she needs to be in it. If only this vrexing bot would leave me alone.

“It’s a healer bot. Let it do its work,” Chrissie says, crouching down next to me.

“Are you real?” I reach out to touch her face.

“I’m real. I’m alive.” She cocks her head on one side, looking up at a squirming Felia. “No thanks to her, or maybe it is thanks to her.”

“But the virus?” I’m slurring my words now, sobriety deserting me.

“It’s become part of me.” Chrissie looks at her hands. “And I can control tech.”