Page 44 of Prison Moon
“Really? What luxury hotel did you put them up in because so far, I’ve only seen them chased and killed?”
“The inhabitants of Prison Moon One are much like those on other worlds. There are some who thrive and control their sectors with firm grips. There are also those who are too weak to do much more than follow the orders of the Warlords they’ve pledged fealty to. Those Warlords, although the strongest here on Prison Moon One, are also known to be gentle with their slaves.”
“Slaves?” Sara sputtered, then gawked.
Kalethra shot a look Talryn’s way. “The word liaison Talryn meant to say was, captive. Some of the females are treated quite well here.”
“Treated well by whose standard?”
A muscle ticked in Kalethra’s jaw. “Warlords are as different as individuals are. How they treat their prizes is their own concern and much of that depends on how the women behave.”
“So, good, obedient slaves aren’t beaten if they lay on their back and make no noise while raped. Is that what you’re saying?”
The two women shared another look before Kalethra tilted her head and got a funny look on her face. It took Sara a minute to realize she was listening to something—or someone when she touched a small black device in her ear.
Kalethra looked back down at her and smiled, although it never reached her eyes. “The Corporation that owns this planet and controls the constant satellite feeds,” she looked up to the small orbs floating nearby, “only flourishes if people are willing the watch all that goes on here. Not so long ago, a bonded couple, a gladiator and a woman he chose to protect, were quite entertaining to watch until they began evading us. As you can imagine, viewers were not happy.” That fake smile curved her lips again. “Now, you and your dragon are the most watched feed and have been since you arrived, especially the more intimate aspects of your relationship. Our subscribers want more of the dragon. Which is why we’re here.”
Sara’s hands tightened on Toren’s body. Those orbs—aliens across the galaxy—were watching while they made love? Heat flared in her face, embarrassment, and anger filling her with rage. She shook Toren to try and wake him but he never moved. Not a single twitch and if it weren't for the fact he was still breathing, she would have been worried. Not that she didn’t have cause for it now. If they were here, the reason couldn’t be a good one. She glanced at the orbs still overhead. Unlike before, they weren’t moving. They were stationary.
“They are not recording at the moment.” Her gaze shot back to Kalethra. The alien looked up at the orbs and said, “Their function has been suspended.” Leveling her eyes on Sara’s face, the fake smile vanished. “Our discussion is not for the viewing public.
“The Arena games are the most highly watched in all the galaxy. Special viewing passes must be purchased to access the feed. For a special fight, some are willing to pay staggering prices.” She glanced at Toren. “The chance to see a dragon fight…”
She never finished the sentence but she didn’t need to. Sara knew exactly what she meant. To watch Toren battle in the arena, they would make an astronomical fortune. Bloodsport. Looked as if some things never changed, regardless of what galaxy you were in.
“You’re going to make him fight?” She knew the answer before Kalethra nodded her head in confirmation. “When?”
“Soon.” She looked beyond her to where the wyvern had been waiting. Sara looked as well and saw him, now looking more human, walking toward them. When he reached their side, he grabbed Toren without a word, lifting him off the ground and hoisting him over his shoulder.
“Put him in max.”
The wyvern nodded and started walking away. Sara jumped to her feet. “Wait! Where are you taking him?”
“To a holding cell to await the fight.”
Her heart started pounding. For the first time since he’d found her, she would be completely alone. “And me?” she asked.
“You will be housed with the others.”
A man Sara wasn’t even aware had been there stepped out of the shadows. He was another of the wyvern. He had the same patches of scales on his face, more on his hands. He grabbed her arm and pulled her none too gently toward those barred cells that ran along the perimeter of the arena. The women inside the cages all scurried to the back wall, huddling close together when the door was opened.
She was pushed into the cell, tripping from the hard shove, but caught herself before falling. She turned back to the door, glaring while mumbling, “Asshole.”
He grinned, his yellow teeth as repulsive as the rest of him. “Your dragon won’t be around to lick that pretty cunt of yours much longer.” He flicked his tongue at her, the pointed end wiggling. “But you can ride my face, ashiva. Just say the word.”
Sara clamped her teeth down to keep from saying anything. He was just trying to rile her, she knew that. It was working, too. He turned and walked away, the word, “fugly bastard,” slipping past her lips as she turned to the women huddled near the wall. Regardless of all those faces looking back at her, for the first time in weeks, Sara felt completely alone.
* * *
Something was pounding on his skull. Toren blinked his eyes open, fuzzy, swirling shapes coming in and out of focus. “Sarra?”
He heard nothing but the sound of dripping water. The scent of mold hung heavy in the air and the ground was damp. Bracing one hand on the floor, he rolled over and sat up.
The room he was in was no more than ten paces, wall to wall, front to back. The walls were metal, rust staining them red in places. The floor was dirt and the door looked solid and thick with nothing more than a small square cut out halfway up.
Toren stood and gave the small cell a quick glance. Sarra was not there. Snatches of memories came back in an instant. The temple ruins, the wyverns coming inside, Sarra’s screams and the pain that arched through his body as they pointed some device or weapon at him and discharged it.
Fury raced through his veins as he looked around the small enclosure. Where was he? Where was his mate? He ran for the door, slamming into it with his shoulder. It didn’t give. His muscles started vibrating as he backed up, seeking that deep magic that pulled the dragon free. The moment he tried to shift, he choked and staggered as an electrical current shot through his body. He reached for his throat, a growl rumbling in his chest. More metal, a collar of some kind, encircled his neck. There was barely enough room to get a single finger between it and his skin. Tugging did little good. He tried to shift again, hoping the sheer force of power and size would break it but all he’d manage to do was choke himself to the point he collapsed to the floor heaving for breath. He grabbed the collar with both hands, threw his head back and roared, then roared again until the walls shuttered, his chest heating with fire.