Page 45 of Prison Moon
It did nothing but waste energy. The metal walls still stood. The collar still restrained the dragon. His mate was still gone.
Climbing to his feet, he paced the small enclosure, testing the walls, each corner. He slammed his fist into the rusted sections of the wall, then kicked at them until his bones felt ready to snap, the tight space closing in on him the longer he was there. He’d never been confined. Even in the temples and dark, dank holes he’d crawled into, he’d never been able to not get out. Here, he was truly caught. They’d caged him and taken his mate. The mere thought of it brought the fire back to his chest, caused his limbs to vibrate with rage before he slammed into the door again, peered out the small square opening and roared, “SARRA!” He saw red as he thought of what they may be doing to her. “SARRA!” He beat the door and yelled Sarra’s name until two females appeared in the space beyond the square cut out.
Both of them were dressed identically, their heads free of hair. Neither looked pleased to be there. Good. Neither was he. “Where is my mate!” He slammed against the door.
“She is safe.” The female on the right flinched when he banged on the metal. “That is a useless pursuit. The door is made of Ancagon steel. There is no harder substance in the known universe.”
“And I have lived for centuries,” he snarled, “and will continue to do so for many more. I will Beat. This. Door. Down.” He met her gaze and showed her every ounce of his rage with a single look. “And I will destroy you all.”
She looked at the female beside her. They exchanged bored looks before facing him. “You will be freed shortly and your mate is fine.”
“I want her here. Now.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
He slammed both fists into the door again.
The second female drew a device from her belt. It was square and clear, about the size of his palm. She touched it in several places with her finger then turned it so he could see. The clear surface flashed an image that seemed to move, females filling the small space projected at him. They were covered in filth and huddled close together as if frightened. They were in a similar box as he was but as the image kept moving he saw bars, then—his Sarra. She was pacing back and forth, a muscle in her cheek clenching. A male said her name and she glanced up, her brows lowered in a scowl.
“Look at the camera,” the voice said. “And smile for your dragon.”
Sara turned her head and looked directly at him, her eyes widening. “Toren!” She looked to her left. ‘“Where is he?”
“Sarra!”
“She cannot hear you.”
Toren growled but never looked away from the image. Sarra was looking at him again. She looked in better shape than the other females but not by much. “Bring her to me,” he demanded.
“We will but—“
“No buts. You will bring her to me now.”
“You’re in no position to make any demands. You are at our mercy. That collar around your neck not only keeps you from shifting form, it is wired with electrical charges. A simple push of a button will set it off and it is set high enough to kill you. What good will you do your mate dead?”
A growl rumbled in his chest. “What do you want?”
She smiled. “Are there more of your species in the area?”
“No. I am the last of my kind.”
“That has not been confirmed, but as you are the first we’ve seen in quite some time, I’m inclined to believe you. Our cameras see everything and you are the only dragon we’ve seen.”
“What is your point?”
“I was getting to that.” She pursed her lips. “Once the cameras spotted you and your female, our viewership increased. Seems the two of you have been a very big attraction for our viewers.”
“What are cameras?”
One of the shiny round orbs floated into view. “This is a camera. It is a device that records you and allows others to see.” The other female held the glass up with Sara’s image. “That is what we see. It is what everyone sees.” The female holding the image square touched it a few more times and turned it back to him. He saw himself, his face as he peered out the small opening in the door. The other female took a step closer. “Every movement is now recorded and shown to any willing to pay for it. When things get—boring—they demand more. That is where you come in.”
She looked at the other female who then turned the glass, touching the surface several times before showing it to him again. Small squares were displayed and inside each one was small scenes of others in various locations. Camps much like the one he raided for Sarra, the mountain where the ancient temple sat in ruins and jungles thick with vegetation and those creatures that now took what they wanted with little regard to the lives of others.
“On rare occasions, viewers are treated to more than life on Prison Moon One. The Arena is the stage of our greatest asset. Death-matches are arranged with the victor taking the prize offered. Those fights between the criminals here bring in more viewers and the more viewers we have, the better our profits, and the conditions here in which everyone lives can be improved by small degrees.”
She walked closer to the door and met his gaze. “You are the first dragon we have seen in quite some time. In the past, your kind was killed on sight but when you showed up on our screens, you possessed one thing all those others did not.”
“And what is that?”
“You claimed a mate.” Her face lit in what he could only describe as sinister glee. “Viewers want more of you, so we will give them more—in the arena.” Her wicked smile widened. “If you wish to have your mate back, you will have to fight for her.”