Baited (Gladiators of the Gryn #2)

Izzy

IZZY

I don’t know what time it is. I only know it’s dark and Blayn is talking to someone.

In the gloom, he’s sat bolt upright. I touch the lamp next to the bed with a gentle stroke and it illuminates slowly.

His wings are askew, one hanging off the side and the other tucked awkwardly next to him. He’s covered in sweat and where he’s been lying is soaked. Not for the first time in the last twenty-four nova-hours, I’m pleased the pleasure house’s beds have an automated function to clean up—how can I put it delicately? Let’s just say: moisture.

I activate the function as I slide out and move carefully to get into Blayn’s field of vision. He’s muttered some incomprehensible things so far, groaned a lot, but this is new.

As I get to his side, I can feel the heat radiating from him. He’s far too hot and he’s dislodged the medication tube again.

“Blayn?” I whisper. “Who are you talking too?”

“I need to go home,” he says, his voice cracking. “I should be home.”

“You want to go back to the dome?” I query. “You can, when you’re well enough.”

“I need to get to her. She’ll be worried,” he rasps, smacking his lips. “Worried that I’m thirsty. I flew too far this time.”

My heart twirls horribly in my chest, dropping down towards the floor like gravity wants to assist its descent.

There are no females in the dome, not from what I’ve seen and read. There are only male Gryn. So, who is he talking about?

“Who will be worried, Blayn?” I ask, hating myself, hating the question and how it makes me feel like I want to tear this place down because if he’s not mine, then I can never have him.

“Mother.” His voice is gruff, and he sways from side to side.

The relief which washes through me is immediately replaced by guilt and loathing at my previous reaction.

“You want to go home to your family?”

Blayn shakes his head violently, releasing a blood curdling growl. “No! Gone! All gone!” He collapses back onto the bed and shivers, teeth chattering, eyes rolling.

I quickly reattach the medication tube and grab a light sheet from a pile I’ve already put out, covering Blayn up.

“Gone, all gone,” he moans, turning suddenly onto his side, one hand grasping at nothing.

I take hold of it, running my hand down the side of one of his great wings in an action I hope is soothing.

“I’m still here.”

A pair of fevered eyes look up at me, the light playing over the shiny surfaces.

“Mate,” Blayn whispers.

“I…I don’t think so.” I stutter out a reply, despite the fact that butterflies seem to have taken up residence in my stomach. “You have a fever.”

“I have a fever.” Blayn smiles his glorious smile and closes his eyes. “For you.”

His breathing deepens and he’s out again. When my insides have stopped their spin cycle, I fetch cold water and cloths, gently, slowly sponging him off, doing my best to cool him down and concentrate on the task I’ve set for myself.

Not thinking that he called me his mate.

I don’t want to think about that.

I don’t want to unpack any of these emotions. I have to concentrate on surviving, not falling for some massive alien gladiator with wings the size of a small plane, feathers which smell of cinnamon, and an attitude which could, and does, strip flesh from bone.

My hand skirts the edge of the blanket covering his crotch area as I attempt to keep away from the wound which has a nasty black look to it. Blayn’s abs contract, undulate, and he moans my name.

I move higher, not knowing if my touch is hurting him, which is the last thing I want to do, or something else.

I’m not sure I’m ready for…

A hand grabs my wrist.

“,” Blayn growls. “I was dreaming about you.”

“You need to rest,” I tell him.

“I was dreaming about you and not the dark and the light,” he says, his voice taking on a dreamy slur, and I see the medication tube has started running again. “I prefer to dream about you,” he adds.

“Then go to sleep and dream again.” I stroke the cloth over his forehead, and he settles himself into the bed a bit like a hen sitting on eggs.

“You kept your promise,” he whispers. “You kept the dark and the light away.”

He smiles again, briefly, his face going slack as unconsciousness takes him once again. My insides are scrambled as I lean over him and brush my lips over his damp forehead in a move which takes me by surprise.

“Rest and heal, Blayn,” I whisper. “I won’t leave you.”