Baited (Gladiators of the Gryn #2)

Blayn

BLAYN

M edic Hisn stands at the foot of the bed. He knows better than to get any closer to me. I glare at him anyway as a warning.

I have more reason to keep him back, because I have my mate by my side and no one looks at Izzy except me. I bare my teeth.

“I’d say he’s fit enough to be up and about.” Medic Hisn eyes me. “Although not to go back to the dome.” He looks down at the vid screen in his hand. “Not until your vitals have improved. I don’t want the captain or the procurator trying to put you back in the games yet.”

I lift a lip and snarl at him. I have a mate. I’m not going back to the dome.

A big Habosu female has appeared in the doorway to the room. She looks like she’s sucking moisture off a gladiator’s undergarment, her rouged mouth pursed up into a sour pucker.

“He isn’t leaving yet?” she asks, although it’s more of a statement.

“The dome will continue to pay your daily rate, Madame,” the medic says. “And some extra for the inconvenience of having a dangerous gladiator on your premises.”

I growl to make a point. I am dangerous.

Izzy pushes her fingers into the feathers on the shoulder of my wing, and I can’t growl any more. I can’t even think straight, and there’s no more medication tube. That was removed a few nova-days ago, leaving me as weak as a youngling while my beautiful mate continued to care for me…for every part of me.

“Yes, well, I think we can continue to put up with…I mean care for…the Gryn a little longer. But I’m not going to stop him if he wants to leave,” the female Habosu says.

“He has a pass to leave if he wishes, but he must return here at night,” the medic replies, and in a lightning move I wasn’t expecting from such an elderly Oykig, he has clipped something around my ankle.

I would roar at him, but Izzy is next to me, so instead I pull my leg back sharply and my wound bites at me.

“You’re not completely healed yet, ,” the medic says with a shake of his head at my actions. “Don’t go getting into any fights.”

I fiddle with the ring around my ankle, and it sinks into my flesh.

“And don’t touch the tracker. If you try to take it off, your pass will be immediately revoked,” he says evenly, not looking up from his vid-screen.

I huff hot air, my anger simmering.

“You’ve got three nova-days, and I’ll return to check you over, see if you’re fit for the dome again.” The medic turns and walks down into the lower part of the room. The Habosu female stands aside to let him leave, peering after him until I hear the elevator close.

“Izzy, you’re personally responsible for this…Gryn while he resides here. If he steps out of line for one nova-second, you will lose your position,” she says.

I go to snarl at her, but Izzy curls her hand around mine, her eyes pleading with me.

“This is all I have, .”

I want to roar that she has me and she has no need of this place, but something stops me. Instead, I unfold myself from the bed. The wound pulls, and I wrap my arm around my abdomen for a moment, then straighten and shake out my wings at the Habosu female.

“You need not worry. I am an honorable gladiator. No one will come to harm provided I am left alone with my…” Izzy shoves an elbow into my side and shakes her head. “…Izzy,” I finish off.

The Habosu narrows her eyes. “In which case, I’ll hold you responsible for her too. Izzy, you are relieved of your cleaning duties until the Gryn is out of our hair.” She growls at my mate.

“Thank you, Madame,” Izzy says.

The big Habosu sweeps out of the room, and Izzy breathes a sigh of relief before looking at me.

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to tell her I’m your mate. I don’t want her to use it against you for any reason.” She leans in a little closer to me and I suck down her sweet scent. “She’s devious and I don’t trust her.”

“Good. I don’t trust anyone in the dome,” I reply.

“You also don’t do anything anyone tells you either,” she replies, folding her arms. “But I hope you’re going to do what you’ve been told about your health.”

“What about it?”

“No fighting, plenty of rest.”

“I don’t need rest.”

“Oh?” Izzy is off the bed and walking past the place where the bath is to the far wall. “What do you think you want?”

Her hips sway deliciously, and she’s wearing a single item of clothing, a faded shirt which molds to her form. My cocks know what they want, to be sheathed in my mate. My stomach also knows what it wants, which is food. My arms know what they want, which is to be wrapped around Izzy. But otherwise I don’t know what I want.

I never get asked what I want. I train, I fight, I roar and howl at the dark and the light, and then I do it all again. Sometimes I go into Tatatunga, drink ale, and get tattooed.

“What…” The question forms in my mind with all the pace of a space worm caught in a nebula. “What would you like to do, eregri ?” I ask.