Chapter One
With a wild shout, he brought his sword down, slashing through the training dummy.
The emotions inside Blaine Strong were boiling and molten. A second dummy popped up through an opening in the sand of the training arena, and he sliced its belly open, before spinning in a circle, sword raised above his head.
Two more dummies appeared and, using all his strength, Blaine thrust his sword through the closest dummy’s stomach, and chopped the arm off the second.
As the final dummy appeared, he leaped into the air and decapitated it with one wild slash. He landed, skidding through the sand, then attacked the damaged dummy again, with violent hits and thrusts of his sword, completely destroying it.
No more dummies sprang out of the ground. He stood there, chest heaving. The anger inside him was like a beast—wild and hungry, and out of control.
In that moment, even though sunshine from the two large suns in the sky warmed his skin, and a brisk breeze ruffled his too-long dark hair, he was back in the bowels of the underground fight ring that had been his life for several months.
Images peppered his head like a movie on fast-forward. All of them were the faces of the people he’d killed.
Blaine sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself back to reality. Even though he was free, the ghosts didn’t seem to stop haunting him. He took another deep breath, which just reminded him that a side effect of all the drugs his captors had pumped into him was losing his sense of smell. Right now, he smelled none of the scents of the arena. He hadn’t realized how much he’d used the sense until it had been dulled to nothing.
He scanned his surroundings and reminded himself that he was standing in the House of Galen training arena. He stared at the new gladiator recruits training on the sand not far away, and then over the training arena to the walls of the main Kor Magna Arena adjacent. The immense structure was made of a warm, cream stone, and was a mecca for spectators coming to watch the alien gladiators fight. But unlike the hell of the underground fight rings, no one battled to the death there.
He flicked his gaze to the right, and contemplated the tips of the glitzy buildings in the District. It made him think of a long-ago trip to Las Vegas when he’d been younger. The desert planet of Carthago and the city of Kor Magna offered all kinds of spectacles and entertainment.
Blaine shook his head. He was a long way from Earth and his old life. His previous job had been as a space marine-turned-security specialist for the Fortuna Space Station orbiting Jupiter. But that was all long gone.
He’d been abducted by Thraxian slavers, and after months of captivity, sold into the fight rings run by the Srinar aliens. Forced to fight and kill.
He pulled in a shuddering breath, unable to rid himself of the drowning sensation dragging at him.
Then he heard a laugh—full-throated and feminine.
He looked up, his gaze zeroing in on the long, tall form of Saff Essikani.
The female gladiator was walking into the training arena, her back straight, and her muscled, athletic body clad in dark leather. Her leather top hugged her slim torso lovingly, and left her muscular arms bare. Her long, black hair was in tiny braids that she’d caught back at the base of her neck, and her skin was dark and glossy.
Blaine heard his heart beat like a drum in his ears. It was clear she was strong and an experienced fighter, but he also spotted small touches of femininity. The elegant tilt of her dark eyes, unbelievably long eyelashes, and her long, slender neck.
It took him a second to realize she wasn’t alone. Harper Adams strode beside her. Harper had been Blaine’s fellow security specialist on the space station. She’d been the first to be rescued and taken in by the gladiators of the House of Galen. In turn, she’d helped to rescue several other human women who’d also been abducted. He wondered if there were any others they didn’t know about, out there, somewhere, suffering.
Anger threatened, nipping at the edges of his consciousness. To fight it back, he focused on Saff.
She was tossing a small device up and down on her palm. He knew the egg-shaped item was a net. When thrown, it exploded outward, entangling an enemy. She held a sword in her other hand. Harper was holding two swords, swinging them through the air and smiling.
The women found a spot on the sand, and then began to spar.
Every thought of captivity disintegrated. The women moved with a power and grace that was impossible to ignore.
Blaine had sparred with Harper quite a few times, and trained alongside her on the space station. She was an athletic woman, who used her power and speed to her advantage.
But Saff’s style was very different. She was taller, but slightly leaner than Harper, the long lines of her muscular body graceful and elegant. Every time she leaped into the air, leading with her sword, the tiny black braids flew out behind her. He couldn’t help but picture her as a warrior queen.