see us as a threat when we are injured and exhausted,” Stone said, his face dark, his wolf surfacing in his eyes.
“They don’t,” Reed agreed.
“Why? Are the sick bastards who watch too far away for us to leap up and reach them, or to throw a weapon and kill one of them? You said that’s why we had to fight in cages for most of the rounds.” I looked at Reed.
“Twist,” said Lionel, tapping his finger quickly on the table top.
The others scowled at him.
“What?” His face was a picture of innocence.
I hid my smile. He obviously had a good hand.
Reed slipped him a card. “It’s true. When the winners of each group fight each other, the warden brings in his personal protection detail. So we have even less chance of escaping.”
I scowled. “Is that why he brings them?”
“I expect so, but no one really knows. Connor’s been trying to figure out what the warden does with all of the bodies from the fights. Each day, they get piled near the door to the science wing,” Kawan said quietly, running his fingers through his black hair.
“And then once the final bout is done, he opens the doors to the prison and his men take the bodies away.” Myles’s attention flickered between his cards and Reed, who sat opposite him. Reed flushed every time he caught Myles’s gaze.
“Hmm,” I said, trying to picture the arena in my mind. I shuddered at the thought of being caged in. “So where are the bastard spectators in comparison to the rings?”
Stone’s cold gaze drifted towards me. He was standing guard with Owen. Owen sighed, and kept his focus on the room as he talked. “They’re on a balcony a level above the rings. It’s where those who cannot fight are sent to entertain the perverted, cruel fucks who not only pay for blood, but for flesh, too.”
My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open as I absorbed what he was saying. Connor had said something about that, but I hadn’t really processed what it meant. “They sell our bodies as well as our lives?”
“They do.” Owen’s expression was one I didn’t often see in his eyes—pure killer. He was a patient and astute person, but there was also a reason he was Connor’s beta. His voice turned hard. “Many of those poor buggers never come back, and some who do are just shells, their spirits completely broken.”
I swallowed the bile in my throat, thanking Connor for forcing my hand into being a fighter.
No more was said about the fights, and I had lost any desire to know more. The whole thing sickened me. To think Connor and some of these poor people who were here for no other reason than being shifters, had suffered this for so long… No wonder their humanity had been virtually erased.
We finished up our card game. I hugged Rawson and gave him a goodnight kiss, earning myself some raised brows.
“Not sure the boss would like that,” grumbled Stone.
“Oh, lighten up buddy,” Owen said, slapping his shoulder. “They’ve known each other a long time, and Rawson’s the only one he’d not deck for touching his girl.”
“For gods sakes, I can touch who I like and I don’t need Connor’s permission to do so,” I said, and to make a point I went around to all of them, including that miserable arse Stone, and kissed them all on the cheek. “There.” I beamed.
Owen was laughing out loud by the time I was done, and the others smirked. I’d saved Stone until last and he looked like he wanted to throttle me. I felt someone’s attention burning into my back, and turned to see Shannon glaring at me. If looks could kill… I blew her a kiss too, just for good measure.
“Oh, you’re really cruisin’ for a bruisin’ tonight aren’t you, sweetness?” drawled Rawson.
I shrugged and left them all, hooking my arm through Stone’s just to piss him and Shannon off. He shook me free with a growl. “Okay, okay.” I raised my hands and took Owen’s instead, who just grinned widely as they escorted me back to my room in Drake’s wing.
The next day was much of the same. I chose to fight with wooden daggers this time, that were basically just blunt lumps of wood, but it was better than nothing. Rawson decided to fight, too, and we paired up. His alpha vibes were getting stronger, so I allowed myself to move faster, winning as many fights as I lost.