Page 63 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Chloe

I had been with the gladiators for nearly a week.

Though, like a coward, I’d mostly hidden in my bunk—a place I had all to myself for the first time in twelve years.

Gethryel would turn over in his grave if he knew I was using his bunk; I took great pleasure in knowing that. Served the arrogant asshole right.

Tori had the other officer’s bunk right across the corridor from me, and it was sort of comforting to hear her coming and going from the place at odd hours.

She said the baby kept her up half the time.

I’d never been around a pregnant woman much, but it sure looked uncomfortable, so I was taking her word for it.

The two women had been nothing but kind to me, helping me with some clean clothes, helping me feel safe by showing me I could lock my door.

Giving me a haven to hang out in, where I could watch the entertainment feeds whenever I wanted.

Either of them—or sometimes both—would show up like clockwork at mealtime and invite me to join them.

I had yet to take them up on the offer, but it never seemed to bother them; they simply came back and brought me food.

Food that tasted like old memories, or at least as close as one could get.

If I were being honest with myself, I knew that I was finally— for the first time in twelve years— allowing myself to feel safe.

To feel like I had a place that I could call my own, with a door I could lock, where no one would get in— no one even tried.

I slept far more than I ever had, catching up.

I spent far longer in the shower than I had ever been allowed, luxuriating in the feeling of being clean.

Abigail showed up on day three with a guy in tow who should have freaked me the hell out—he was so huge and scary-looking.

Except, as I’d opened the door for the woman I had maybe, sort of, started to like, I didn’t see his size or his scary features.

I could only gape at him in awed shock. “Are you serious right now? The Beast? The actual Beast in the flesh is here? Aboard this ship?” I had asked—well, more like demanded from them.

And the Beast had cracked a grin and then huffed a chuckle. “In the flesh, tiny human.” He’d dipped his horns in a respectful nod and then placed a big, clawed hand on Abigail’s shoulder. “I am Ziame, the captain of this ragtag crew of ex-gladiators.”

Abigail had smiled at me. “Thought it was high time you met my mate. Didn’t expect you to recognize him, though.

” I was still too shocked by the fact that the Beast had actually spoken to me—that he could even form words—to respond to that statement.

We’d just sort of awkwardly stared, exchanged a greeting, and then they’d been on their way again.

I’d been in awe and shock an entire day, but even the promise of speaking with the Beast, Ziame, hadn’t drawn me out of the small room.

No, that happened on day seven, when, after a knock on the door, I discovered no one was in front of it.

There was just a small box on the floor in front of me, and when I opened it…

several of Tori’s famous biscuits and a datapad.

Intrigued, I’d taken the stuff back into my room, but not before looking left and right to make sure nobody was peeking around a corner somewhere.

Seeing no one, I closed the door, sat down on my bunk, and munched on a biscuit.

Then I booted the datapad and was intrigued to see it loaded with what appeared to be a game—a game of navigational puzzles.

I’d played it for three hours straight by the time someone knocked on my door again. It should have been Abigail or Tori on the other side of the door; it had been them for the past week at every single meal. (I hadn’t realized that was three meals; I’d gotten used to one or two if I was lucky).

This time, when I opened the door, I had to crane my head back; my first view was that of a red-furred chest. Kitan, with his golden eyes, was still in his hybridform, so it was a snout pointed my way, grinning widely.

I noted that he was sans bandages around his torso, just the arm in a cast this time.

He’d clearly tried shifting again, as there were no more patches of fur missing or burn scars left anywhere.

My heart was racing in my chest; I was so happy to see him. I’d been wondering all this time why he never showed up. It had been on my mind to ask about him, but I worried what the girls would think if I did.

For a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other while he kept on grinning like the fox he appeared to be.

Then he said in a warm tone, “So, did you enjoy the game?” My eyes immediately dropped down to the pad I was still clutching in one hand, and I nodded. “You left it at my door this morning?”

“Yeah, I figured you’d be bored out of your mind by now. The entertainment feeds get old after a while. I get to blow off some steam by playing around on the bridge, but you haven’t shown up there yet, so...”

He guessed right. I’d never played with something like this before, but it had been much more fun than just watching something. “Thank you.” I crossed my arms beneath my chest, then had to hold in a flinch when his eyes dropped from my face for a brief second to take in my appearance.

Abigail and Tori had gotten me new clothes—or rather, old clothes that they’d repurposed.

Now, I wore a form-fitting T-shirt and a pair of pants they called leggings.

I vaguely recalled those from when I was little; they were super comfy, but also form-fitting.

I hadn’t shown this much silhouette in years, so it was startling to have a male take notice.

Yet, I kind of liked the brief moment where I saw heat flare in his eyes before he tamped it down and took a step back. He gestured at the corridor and dipped a slight bow, like a gentleman from a period drama. “Would you accompany me to lunch, Chloe?”

My skin prickled at the back of my neck.

I didn’t want to immerse myself in the crowd on this ship, among the freed gladiators.

What if my cozy little haven came tumbling down around my ears again when I met them?

What if they wanted things from me I didn’t want to give?

Hiding and sticking my head in the sand was all I’d done for twelve years: survive, live another day, and never, ever draw attention to myself.

Now I was wearing formfitting clothing, with no way to hide that I was a woman, and not a child.

While I hadn’t minded Kitan’s brief spark of interest, I didn’t think I could handle that from another male.

Yet, for some reason, I also didn’t want to let this Sune male down—I didn’t want him to think I was a coward, even though I totally was.

Kitan appraised me for a moment and then shrugged out of the loose, sleeveless jacket he’d been wearing. The armhole only just fit over the sleek cast he still wore around his arm. “Here, why don’t you put this on? It can be a little chilly on the ship.”

I hesitated only a moment before accepting the proffered jacket and slipping it on.

It was still warm from his body and smelled like him—clean, with that typical male musk.

Not the kind the pirates of the Ever Golden Crew had carried, which was due to not washing most of the time.

No, this was all fresh and subtle, but entirely pleasant.

Aware that taking the jacket was tantamount to saying yes, I turned to drop the datapad on one of the two bunks in the room.

Then, I braved the first step out into the corridor.

When I did, it felt like a weight fell off my shoulders—as if I’d thrown off some invisible shackles.

I let my gaze drift to the left, toward the doors leading to the bridge, not too far from here. I was so close, and yet so far.

Kitan didn’t say a word as we trudged through the corridor to the mess hall, but that was okay.

It was kind of comfortable to just be next to him and not talk.

This guy was so different from any of the pirates that I had a hard time deciphering what to make of him, but at the same time…

he was so familiar, too. I knew that this was what a decent person was supposed to behave like—this was what I’d experienced from people growing up before the abduction.

When we reached the mess hall, I braced myself for what I suspected was going to be a rowdy crowd. Captain Busar’s crew had never shared a meal without also sharing spirits, and often a gambling game of some kind was going on at one of the tables, resulting in a brawl over half the time.

Maybe it was because I hesitated in the doorway, or maybe Kitan just understood how nervous this was making me. But his hand came to the small of my back, warming me even through the big jacket draped around me. “It’s okay. If you don’t like it, we can eat later or go somewhere quieter.”

Relieved that he wasn’t going to make me go in there, I forced myself to take a deep breath and appraise what was going on.

I wasn’t going to let past experiences color this.

It was only a small group of people; they’d arranged one long dining table to sit around, and the talk was lively and cheerful, with no undertones of aggression.

“Breathe, Chloe,” I told myself. “Observe!” The males were clearly gladiators, wearing a wide variety of discarded clothing from the Ever Golden Crew.

Some wore ill-fitting garments, while others had barely bothered to dress.

The Pretorian male, for instance, had four arms and was going bare-chested—likely because no one on the Ever Golden Crew had four arms.