Page 14 of Hooded (Gladiators of the Gryn #5)

KLYNN

On balance, this isn’t the worst cell I’ve ever been in. The ones at the amphitheater were disgusting, and the ones used in the dome were damp and filled with mold. And the one my little fury held me in was clean and, of course, smelt of her.

This place is roomy. It also smells of my eregri because she’s lying a short distance from me, still unconscious. My wings and legs don’t want to co-operate at the present time, so all I can do is lift myself up on my elbows and inspect our surroundings.

The face of the cell is a clear forcefield. I feel it’s hum and buzz in my skin, but the algorithm which drives it is unknown, and it will take some time for my body to tune into it. There is a shelf which could pass for a bed, and behind us there is a sanitary area.

It is a cell made for two.

It is also a cell made for observation, as above us is a large open space, again filled with a forcefield, and a couple of Tormelek guards pace there, holding pulsar rifles.

Even with the forcefield, I can still smell them. Overpowering, rotting, foul. They smell how they behave, despicable and without honor. Not that I have much honor left, but then I don’t go round enslaving other species.

The question remains as to what they want from us.

Whatever it is, they won’t get it from me. I’m done with being indentured and a prisoner. I want my life back, and I want to claim my little Fern, nest for her, and produce so many younglings.

A shiver runs through me at all my thoughts, ones which are completely strange, completely out of nowhere. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted such things.

But I do now.

And no one is taking any of that from me.

My wings twitch, the feeling returning to them along with my legs, and I heave myself upright with a growl, making my way over to my little female. Her face is pale, and her lips have a tinge of blue which instinctively I know isn’t right. I put my head closer to her mouth to hear her breathing. It’s shallow but there. When my ear brushes her lips, they are icy cold.

I might not know much about humans…or females, but I know they shouldn’t be so cold. I gather her in my arms, wrapping my wings around us both. She draws herself into my body, and my heart does something odd in my chest. Like a flutter. Like there’s something wrong. Maybe whatever gas the vrexing Tormelek used has caused me some damage.

If they have, I will make sure they die before it overtakes me. I will kill them before they touch my sweet female. I will kill them until I drop down dead.

“You do know you’re growling, don’t you?” A soft, hoarse voice comes from within my feathers. A set of small pink fingers pushes through the darkness, and I move my wing to one side in order to see her face.

“I always growl,” I respond.

“Where are we?” she asks, her blue eyes staring around.

“Tormelek ship,” I grunt.

“It’s big,” she says. “Bigger than mine.” Her teeth chatter.

“Which is probably the reason we couldn’t escape their clutches, little fury, no matter how hard you tried.”

Fern makes a soft choking sound.

“You don’t blame me?” she says, and the water is there in her eyes again.

It makes me growl more.

“Why would I blame you for something the Tormelek did to you?” I’m completely confused, and the sight of the water sets every muscle in my body on edge.

“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me,” she forces out.

“No, I’d be killing Bogarok until one killed me,” I grumble. “And they’re nowhere near as fun to kill as Tormelek. On balance, I’d say this is better.”

Fern blinks at me, the water receding.

“It is?” she whispers. “But they’re going to enslave us.”

“I’d like to see them try,” I growl. “I’m done with being at someone’s beck and call.”

“I’m not sure slavery works like that, .” She dips her head.

My heart does the weird thing in my chest again, and I’m absolutely sure the Tormelek have caused me some internal injury.

Fern pushes out of my feathers, something I’d rather she didn’t because I like her in my arms and generally I don’t like much. She gets unsteadily to her feet and stares around at the cell as I seat myself on the shelf.

Something pushes me to speak, to provide an explanation where I have never explained myself before.

“I was not a slave at the dome. I was there because the Galactic Council sentenced me to die.”

“What for?” A shiver runs through her.

“For finding out about them.”

Fern gazes up at me, confusion running all over her face.

“Gryn warrior!”

I look away from my sweet female to the forcefield at the front of our cell to see who dares to interrupt us.

Stood on the outside is a metal clad Tormelek. Most of his hairy form is encased in armor. I’m used to being in the dome with all types of fighters, but this seems to be overkill for dealing with a gladiator.

“Vrex off,” I snarl back.

“You are at the mercy of the great Lord Halfen. You will comply with all instructions, or you will die,” he says, clearly not worried about any risk to his person.

“Halfen can vrex off too.” I glare at him.

A bright light comes on above us. I snarl, but no sound comes out. The forcefield drops and the metal clad Tormelek enters. I leap for him.

Only nothing happens. I am frozen in place. Movement is impossible. The Tormelek marches past me with seeming ease and grabs hold of Fern, also frozen like me. He lifts her stiff body onto his shoulder and leaves the cell.

When the light goes off, I hit the forcefield with all the strength I can muster. It slams me all the way to the far wall.

It will not stop me. I will rage and rage until I rip them all to pieces and get my mate back.