Wrage (Galaxy Gladiators #11) - Alana Khan Page 0,50

take for me to have dead eyes again like poor It.

Now that I’ve tasted love, now that I’ve had Wrage, I won’t settle for a life of abuse for long. I won’t just contemplate suicide, I’ll have the courage to do it. Maybe those religions are right, the ones that promise a hereafter. Maybe I’ll meet Wrage there.

Chapter Ten

Elyse

It’s hard to believe we’ve been on Rhoid a week. Rhoid, what a fitting name. Why abbreviate? They should just call it hemorrhoid.

I’ve tried to plan an escape, wracking my brain to figure a way out. There are guards on both ends of the cellblock, and other guards all over the property. Even if we were lucky enough to escape from the shaft, then what would we do?

Between the blowing sand and the desolation, I don’t know where we’d go or how we’d hide on this planet. If we got that far, we’d have to find a vessel, and even then, neither Wrage nor I have a clue about how to pilot one.

I’ve wondered about somehow getting back into the mansion. But we’d have to kill Ryone and his contingent of bodyguards. Then where would we be? In a fortified mansion with nowhere to go.

I guess that would be the best option, though.

“It’s your lucky day, drackface. You get to fight,” the guard laughs dryly.

“I love you Elyse,” Wrage swipes a swift kiss across my cheek as he bounds out of bed before they can wallop him with a rifle butt.

The fight isn’t a surprise. Frankly it was surprising how long it’s been since the last fight. He pulls off his pants and lets them lie in a pile on the floor.

I take a deep breath and keep my cool. The last thing he needs is a sad mate. We’ve tried to keep our spirits up over the last few days. Frankly, conversation has been hard. We avoid any mention of the future, we both know we don’t have one. The trackers in our brands are dead and no one knows we’re here. That puts our chances of being rescued at zero.

Obviously, we don’t talk about the present, what’s there to say? We’ve spoken about the past, though. There were some good times in my life before my abduction—I told him about those. He told me about his adopted religion, the Indira Sect that celebrates Blessed Peace Day. I like those words—blessed peace.

Last night, though, we sang. It was . . . surreal. We were in a cell, filthy and tired and hungry to our marrow, but when we were singing we were lifted out of our horrible lives. When our voices soared, so did our spirits.

We actually laughed, more than once. The raucous calls from the males in the other cells faded, then stopped. After a few songs, we started receiving praise and applause. Even animals like these males wanted a respite from their misery.

“You too, cunt,” one of the guards calls to me.

I’m ready. Is he waiting for me to don my bejewelled gala outfit? I’ll leave the cell when he tells me to.

Right before they open our cell, the rock beneath us rumbles and the bed shakes. It stops after a moment, but is replaced by another before the guards can open the lock. The second was worse than the first.

No one says a thing about the quake, just “C’mon assholes, quit dawdling.”

We walk down the hall, I have to scurry to keep up with the males’ long strides. I can’t think too far into the future, I can only hope that Wrage’s winning streak changes from 1-0 to 2-0 today. How can I contemplate anything else?

The room is full to the brim this time, and the excitement in the air is different, almost hushed. I have no idea what’s coming, but my shit detector is blaring, warning me that something especially awful is about to happen.

We know we only have seconds before we’re separated. Wrage snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me close. I vaguely hear catcalls from the males around us, making fun of us for our affection.

“Elyse, you know you’re my heart. You’re more than that, you’re my soul. I don’t think I even had one until I met you.” His fingers tangle in my hair as if by the sheer power of our touch he could keep us together longer. “I love you. If I die today, do whatever you need to do. Whatever,” he says as the guards call him names and