if you advance far enough. The dangling carrot at the end of the trials is freedom.
Freedom. The one thing that matters.
Our ship was attacked. The thing I trained all my adult life for, to protect my people, and I failed.
I slam the shovel into the shit with every ounce of strength I have. Straining, I lift, turn, and toss it onto the cart. In my mind I imagine one of those damned Zzlo, god damned space pirate alien bastards, instead of a mound of shit.
I’m driving this shovel into them. This time I won’t fail. Thirteen. Thirteen is all that’s left, but they’re my thirteen. Thirteen, and I’ve lost four. Sold to another ludus, and no telling how bad they’re being treated.
Damn it. I will get all of us free, but to do that, first I have to find and rescue the four I’m missing.
“Nevaeh.” Shovel in. “Scarlet.” Lift. “Camilla.” Drop the load. “Paisley.” Shovel in.
I repeat their names over and over. A mantra, each syllable burns into my heart. I can’t let them go. We couldn’t save the ship, but these girls, these I can. I must.
“You should fight that hard in the arena,” Anzil’s familiar, deep voice says.
An electrical tingle races up my spine, and my ass warms, knowing damn well that he’s staring at it. I spin on one foot, swinging the shovel around as I do. The spade full of shit flies towards him before the blade, and he ducks. One bulging arm flashes impossibly fast and catches the shovel by the shaft.
“Almost,” I smile. He growls, letting go of the shovel and wiping shit off his glistening chest.
“God, don’t you ever wear a shirt?”
I don’t want to see him shirtless. I don’t want to be admiring those bulging pecs and hard as steel, overly defined abs. What time do I have for this? None, that’s how much. I have to save those girls then get all of us free. I’m not going to be anyone’s damn slave.
“It’s too hot,” he grins, flexing his muscles and making his chest dance.
I roll my eyes, and he stops. Behind him, Antrias and Spthifius are eying us, talking while obstinately training. I narrow my eyes and frown.
“Your pissant hanger-ons are ogling me. Again.”
He looks over his shoulder right in time to catch them staring. He growls, taking a single step in their direction. They scramble further out onto the training grounds, moving out of sight. When he turns back with a wide grin on his face, I shake my head and turn away from him.
“I want to talk to you,” he says.
“No, you want me to fuck you,” I say, digging the shovel in. “I already told you, I only fuck real men.”
He grabs both my arms, lifts me into the air, and crushes me against the stable wall. The critter on the other side huffs indignantly and kicks the wall. My entire body vibrates against his. His face is an inch from mine. I’m staring into his stormy gray eyes. There’s fire in them, a lot of fire for a man who’s also—obstinately—a slave too.
A scar trails across his left eye and down to his jaw. His skin is a soft red and his hair is a sea green. I find him strangely sexy. His rock-hard body against me is hot, but I don’t have time for this.
“I’m going to count to three,” I say.
“And what, little female?” he asks.
“One,” I smile. He pulls my arms over my head and clasps my wrists with one hand.
His smile broadens. “I like you—”
“Two.”
He lets go and steps back.
“As you wish,” he bows, but when he looks up he has a devilish grin. “You’ll come around, sooner or later.”
“In your dreams,” I snap, but I’m covering for the fluttering in my belly, the warmth flushing my skin.
I’m never going to admit it, but I do like him. That was sexy. I like a strong man. A man who knows what he wants. And I like the way he looks at me. His eyes devour me, and every time I glance around, his attention is on me. It’s hot, but I don’t have time for this shit.
I’ve lost four of my girls and the rest of us are slaves. No matter how well we’re being treated, my duty is to get us free.
“Yes,” he says. “Definitely.”
I should say something witty, but I’ve got nothing. My mouth is dry as a mound of sand. and my thoughts are flashing to everything naughty he