Page 83 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

What followed was the most gruesome day I’d ever experienced.

I thought that, with Kitan cooperating, they wouldn’t hurt him.

I was wrong. The two men escorted us to a training room—an empty domed space we’d walked through on our roundabout way to our quarters the day before.

A circular space, it held a dozen pedestals with shifting statues, but nothing else.

As soon as we arrived, a priest in plain blue robes scurried off, only to return with a padded and gilded chair for Purveyn.

As the head priest situated himself to the side of the room, Ga’terra took up position again behind and slightly to his right, standing guard like a living statue, simply staring out at us from where Kitan had taken up position in the center of the room.

I didn’t understand what was about to happen, and Kitan didn’t take the time to explain.

He turned to me, though, and cupped my shoulders with both hands.

“Don’t cry out. Don’t come to me when I go down; I’ll be alright.

If you can manage, close your eyes and pretend you’re somewhere else.

Chloe, I wish you didn’t have to see this.

” His golden eyes looked sad and then angry when he flicked them up over my shoulder to look at Purveyn.

When those golden orbs returned to my face, he pointed to a spot between two statues.

“Sit down over there or something, try to make yourself comfortable, and above all, do not interfere.”

I didn’t want to obey those words; it sounded like something terrible was about to happen to him.

He’d gone through this before—over and over again—so he had to be speaking the truth if he said he’d be fine.

With my heart in my throat, I leaned up and pressed a kiss to his mouth, not caring at all that we had an audience.

“I’m here for you, Kitan. You’re not alone this time. ”

As I sat down on the hard, cold floor, I curled my legs up against my chest and wrapped my arms around them, as if I could hold myself together that way.

I was terrified of what was about to happen, and knowing Kitan’s extremely sensitive nose, I knew that both Purveyn and Ga’tera had to smell that on me as much as Kitan did.

For Kitan’s sake, I tried hard to rein in my fear for him, but I knew I couldn’t possibly control it.

Then it started, and I knew my fear scent spiked, along with pain in sympathy for what Kitan was going through.

“Argos Rhino,” Purveyn said, simply and coldly.

I didn’t know what it meant, but Kitan shrugged out of his jumpsuit with zero hesitation, baring his body to us with no shame.

I loved his strength: the well-defined muscles, the ridges of his abs, and the curves of his thick thighs.

I loved the stripes diagonally across his legs and arms, matching the straight line across his face.

For a brief moment, I even allowed myself to look at his cock, where it lay nestled against a thatch of red hair.

I’d felt it that morning, pressed up against me, but I hadn’t seen it.

All things considered, I thought it looked much like that of a human man, but there was a line of freckles over the top, and I thought they looked bumpy.

He didn’t stay in his own form for long, though, dropping to all fours with a groan and shivering into a different shape with barely a blink of an eye.

His skin shifted suddenly into thick purple plates, his body closely resembling that of a rhino, though not quite as large.

Instead of one horn, seven lined his snout in various sizes.

Barely had he changed his form when Purveyn already yelled again, “Aderian.” Kitan shifted again, this time to a humanoid form, his skin turning anthracite, his eyes becoming shimmering black pools, and his black hair swirling around his shoulders.

I nearly gasped at the change. How was it possible that Kitan could do that—take on any form? No wonder he was considered so special.

He’d only just straightened from his crouch, swirling his newly-formed long black hair over his shoulder, when Purveyn called out the next form.

It went like that for hours, shift after shift, with not a single break for Kitan or a chance to eat or drink.

I didn’t get anything either, nor did Ga’tera, though Purveyn was served by a stream of novice priests coming and going.

As the day wore on, I could see the sunlight shifting angle and intensity through the window.

I could also see how tired Kitan was getting: the shifts were taking longer to complete, and sometimes he’d take a form where sweat popped out across his body.

Sometimes his face was humanoid enough that I could see he was in pain, but not once did Purveyn let up.

Cooperation meant that Kitan didn’t object to this form of torture, letting it go on and on without complaint, but I struggled to stay silent.

Every fiber in my body was clamoring to rush forward and comfort him, to rush to Purveyn and tell him to stop this.

What good was this doing? What did this training accomplish?

By the time my stomach was rumbling and cramping in pain from hunger, it was going dark outside.

Purveyn suddenly waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and got up from his chair, which meant Kitan finally returned to his skin-form.

He collapsed onto the floor, shaking and trembling, and I noticed with horror that blood was beading up along his skin everywhere, as if he’d been so strained from all the shifting that now his body struggled to hold itself together.

Purveyn stalked out of the room without a backward glance and left us behind, which meant I could finally uncurl from my position on the floor and hurry to Kitan’s side.

I knew Ga’tera was still there, but he didn’t say or do anything as I tried to figure out how to help Kitan.

I was afraid to touch him since he looked to be hurt everywhere.

He groaned, lifted his head a little, and struggled to his feet.

His hand reached out to clutch his jumpsuit, which had been near his feet all this time.

“What can I do?” I asked frantically. “How can I help?” I reached out to try to support him since he was unsteady on his feet, swaying, muscles trembling like a newborn foal.

“Give me a moment,” he murmured, his head averted so I couldn’t see his face.

I worried he was hiding something, so I ducked and looked anyway.

He had nothing to be ashamed of—he’d fought hard all day for me, so I could get the implants I needed.

I knew he’d have fought this otherwise; I knew this would have gone down far differently if I hadn’t been here.

Though I wanted to make a sound when I saw his face, I managed to bite my tongue.

He was truly bleeding everywhere, his eyes horrifically red, bleeding from his nose and ears, from the corners of his eyes.

It was a terrible thing to look at, but only because I hated how this was causing him pain.

I wish I’d pulled the damn knife from my boot and stabbed that damn priest in the neck.

I was so angry about what they were doing to the normally wild and vivacious Kitan.

He flinched when he realized I’d looked, and I hurried to reassure him.

“You’re going to be okay, Kitan. I’ll take care of you for once.

You can lean on me.” He let me help him shrug into the jumpsuit, using one hand to balance himself on my shoulder.

Once he had it on, he was breathing heavily.

He had to pause, closing his eyes and struggling through some kind of internal torment.

We stood like that for five minutes, if not more, until he finally nodded and opened his eyes. “Help me to our room.”

I draped his arm carefully around my shoulder, worried when he leaned on me far more than expected—a heavy weight I struggled with. Then the weight suddenly shifted. “Set the pace, revered priest,” Ga’tera said. He’d taken Kitan’s other arm gently and had taken most of the weight.

I knew by the time we finally reached the rooms that I would never have made it there with Kitan if not for Officer Ga’tera’s help. He said nothing but guided us inside, helped me drape Kitan onto the bed, and then left.

While I’d been hungry before, all appetite had fled, and Kitan had passed out the moment we’d reached the bed.

I was scared that he was so badly hurt that he wouldn’t wake up, but I knew this wasn’t the first time he’d gone through this, so he was probably going to be all right.

I settled for getting some wet cloths and wiping as much of the blood off him as I could, relieved to note that no new blood was welling up.

Only when I had him as clean as I could possibly get did I hurriedly wash myself before crawling beneath the blankets at his side. Exhausted, slumber quickly took me under.