Page 50 of Prison Moon
Chapter Eighteen
They surrounded Sarra, their weapons pointed at her and if he knew he wouldn’t harm her or the other females in the cages, he’d fire the entire structure until it was nothing but burning cinders.
His body ached and staying aloft was more effort than it should have been. So many centuries sleeping in the belly of the ruins had done him no favors. The burns to his body were pulsing with each beat of his heart and as he stared at the scene below, his brain wasn’t functioning enough to think of what to do. How would he get Sarra out of there without them harming her?
The loud booming voice he’d heard earlier blasted from the speakers again. “Draegon, you have won your match. Come claim your prize.”
Would it be that simple? He looked at the wyvern below, at Sarra’s face. If he swooped down to get her, there would be no stopping them from firing their weapon on her. He had no choice. He had to land and trust they’d let them go once he did. The only alternative was to leave her behind, which he’d never do.
He swooped down the remaining distance and landed on the hard, packed dirt with a thump. The aliens all along the perimeter of the ring were quiet, the wyvern on the platform with Sarra watching him. His tail thumped the ground as he lowered his head to see Sarra. She smiled up at him, every muscle in his body tensing. He took a step forward and the two wyverns pointing their weapons at her did something, a high-pitched squeal whirring from the shiny cylinders in their hands and an instant later, small red dots appeared on Sarra’s face. He stopped and stared at them as the announcer said, “Shift back into your two-legged form, Draegon.”
A wyvern near the cages walked forward, the collar he’d been wearing before held in his hands. They were going to cage him inside his skin again, hold the dragon captive so he couldn’t protect himself or Sarra. Fire licked inside his chest, a growl working its way up his throat as the wyvern approached.
“If you wish to collect your prize, you will shift back to your other form.”
Toren looked around the arena. The wyvern were standing all along the perimeter, each of them with weapons at their side. Sarra was still staring at him, two wyvern pointing their weapons at her, another with his hand banded around her throat. They were still in control and they wanted him to know it.
He lifted his head and roared his frustration into the air, then shifted, the sound ending in a yell he felt clean to his soul. He stood when his limbs were strong enough to hold him and lifted his head to look at Sarra. The wyvern with the collar closed the distance between them and clamped it around his neck. The moment he was collared, he started for the platform.
Sarra tried to pull away from the wyvern holding her but he jerked her back against him, his hold on her neck tightening to the point Toren thought he’d choke the life out of her. Her face turned red, her mouth open as she gasped for air and he yelled her name and ran to the platform.
The wyvern pointing their weapons at Sarra dropped their arms and turned—then lifted the weapons and fired them at him. The impact tossed him backward, his feet flying out from under him. Whatever they shot him with was the same as when they’d shot him in the temple, the same current running through his body and causing every nerve ending to spasm as sparking jolts of pain arced through every inch of his flesh. Sarra’s screams were a soft buzz in the background as pain filled every inch of his body.
He’d hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from his lungs and as he stared at the sky trying to catch his breath, the noise around him grew then—Sarra was there. Her hands were on his face, her lips on his skin and his vision blurred as the pain continued to arch through his body.
Sarra’s hand were warm, the scent of fear on her skin enough to make the dragon surge forward. Tears lay heavy in her eyes, large drops gathering on her lashes. He reached up and grabbed her arm. “Don’t weep, Sarra.”
The words made her do just that. She lowered her head to his chest and cried as if her heart were breaking.
* * *
All this for nothing?
Sara tried to hold back the tears, but fury raced through her veins. They’d lied, played them for entertainment for the masses who paid to watch and even now, the soft whirring sounds the orbs made were heard as they hovered close by. She lifted her head, peering down at Toren. His eyes were open but just barely. Whatever they’d hit him with left two dark rings on his chest, his breathing labored. She looked behind her to the platform. The two wyvern that shot Toren were now on the ground, their weapons still pointed in their direction. They weren’t going to let them go. She laughed bitterly. For a brief moment, she’d thought they’d won but what a fool she’d been.
She looked at those in the arena. The aliens along the edges of the ring were watching them in silence, the girls in the cages motionless. She looked at them all, meeting as many alien eyes as she could before she yelled, “You’re all nothing but trained dogs for their freak show! How long before they turn on you?” She sat up on her knees and turned her head to look at them. “You think they bring us here and let you fight for us to reward you?” She laughed. “You’re nothing but trained monkeys doing exactly what they want you to do. The moment you are no longer useful, they’ll destroy you, too. He won!” She sobbed, then wiped her face on her shoulder. “He won his fight! Was promised his prize if he did so and the moment he did what they didn’t think he would, they changed the rules and shot him. You think this won’t ever be you? You’re wrong! The moment you get strong enough to defy them, they will kill you!”
The low murmur of voices grew in volume as she reached down and pulled Toren’s upper body off the ground. He was out cold now and still breathing but just barely.
As if a wave washed over the aliens, they all seemed to shift in a slow glide that rippled along the walkway they stood on, their voices growing in volume until someone shouted, “He won his fight!”
That one shout turned into three, then ten and within minutes, the entire arena was yelling, the voices of the aliens rising, demanding to know why Toren had been shot and if what I said was true. Were they the next to fight and gain nothing?
“Silence!” The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers again. “Your place is not to question.”
“And we’ll refuse to volunteer for slaughter if the prize is denied at the end!”
Sara hugged Toren to her as the aliens shouted and yelled at whoever was in control of this arena. The announcer’s voice cut in several times but was overrun by angry shouts. She lowered her head and buried her face against Toren’s neck and smiled. The prisoners were riled. What would those wyvern and the corp who owned this prison do if the very creatures they manipulated for entertainment suddenly turned and bit the hand that fed them?
The yelling continued, the aliens getting more animated by the second. When the shouts were near deafening, the doors near the platform she’d been standing on opened. The same two females that had come to talk to her when they’d been captured and brought to the arena crossed the dirt ring to where they sat. The noise in the arena died instantly when they stopped.
Kalethra and Talryn, if she remembered correctly, stared down at them, their faces blank of any emotion. The tallest of the two, Kalethra, nodded to the wyvern who’d put the collar on Toren’s neck. When he took a step toward them, Sara yelled, “Are you here to spout more lies? To promise us things you have no intentions of giving us?” As she’d hoped, the aliens watching started murmuring again.
The two females representing the corporation glanced quickly around the arena before turning their attention back to her. “Your outbursts are unnecessary.”
“You shooting him was unnecessary!”
Talryn disagreed. “He is dangerous.”