Chapter 4

Arathor swung his sword at the giant in front of him and missed. In return, he was rewarded with a painful blow to his face. He fell hard on the sand-filled floor of the pit and spat out dark blue blood. The glare from the two suns blinded him momentarily. He fought in his full human form, and his strength was failing him every minute. Rage surged inside him, coursing through his blood. The collar had really weakened him. Dragons could heal themselves pretty well on their own, but with the collar on, it had become impossible. He needed to get rid of it soon or else it would be the death of him.

Arana’s face flashed through his mind: her kind blue eyes, ivory skin, long red locks... He knew he could trust her even before he had seen any evidence or known her reason for getting out of this place.

He saw the giant lunging at him. Quickly, he parried and struck another blow with his sword. His sword, the Silver Shadow, was a rare kind forged from the steel native to his planet. It was bigger than the human swords and there were runes carved over it. It was infused with magic. Many had died at the hands of his sword, and he wielded it deftly. But the collar had made him a tad clumsy. He was taking more blows than he usually did. There were gashes and cuts and blows all over his body.

That day, he had a few broken ribs, a black eye, and a deep gash that ran down his face and almost took his eye. The sword was a great help, though. It cut open a deep gash on the inside of the giant’s leg and he staggered momentarily before falling flat on his back. This gave Arathorn an opening and, without losing another moment, he jumped up and slit the giant’s throat at a deadly angle. The gladiator choked to death as the crowd cheered and hooted and horns blared. It was over for the day, and he had managed to survive. Arana was his only hope now, and he clung to her promise, waiting for her to heal him. He knew she would come to him as she always did... It had been a few days, and she was still unable to track down the key code. Arathor waited patiently, knowing that she was trying her best. And even though she healed him every night, the collar was wearing him down with every passing day, and he didn’t know if he could keep up fighting in the Pit much longer. He was growing weary of the Pit – the senseless fighting and being bound by the collar and not being able to wield his full power as a dragon.

She came to him wearing a beautiful dark green robe that made her ivory skin glow. His heart thudded in his chest as he stood to gaze at her with longing.

“You torture me, woman,” he said hoarsely as she healed him. He loved the feel of her gentle hands on his face... on his chest and everywhere she touched. “Every day, you heal me so I can get these wounds on my body again... It’s torture. Arana, I am tired of fighting... This collar is weakening me the longer it stays around my neck,” he said wearily, and Arana saw that he was losing hope.

“I’m sorry it took so long, but I found the key last night,” she said as she cupped his jaw in her hand and stroked his cheek.

He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, savoring the gentle touch as it warmed his blood. Then, without warning, he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. The chains clanked. His other hand cupped her chin, and before she could say anything, his mouth was on hers, locked at a perfect angle. She slid her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair as she pressed her lips against his. He deftly moved his lips against the velvety softness of hers, coaxing her, teasing her, till she opened up and his tongue slid inside her mouth. She moaned against him, their tongues dancing as he ravaged her mouth... urgent, demanding, wanting more...

After a long time, they pulled apart, and she was breathless as she clung to him, dazed.

And he had a different kind of ache in his heart now. One that couldn’t be healed. She was a Magi and he a Slazaryn. And mating with a Magi was taboo among his race. The punishment was dire. It meant giving up his wings.

Kissing her comforted him, and it had shaken him too. And the way she had kissed him back...

She gazed at him now, eyes glazed as he buried his nose in her hair, taking in her intoxicating scent... Her scent mingled with the heady scent of her arousal was enough to make his head spin. He felt the bulge in his pants grow.

They kissed again, and he didn’t how long it was before they pulled apart. And he saw that her cheeks were flushed, her breathing was labored, and he could hear her heart thudding wildly in her chest... for him.

“I... I think we should stop. Let me get this thing off of you,” she said after a while. She looked into his eyes then.

He simply nodded, too numb to say anything. Arana pulled out a small chip. She felt the rim of his collar and pressed a button. A small panel slid out and she inserted the card and closed it. After a few beeps, the collar’s light around the rim went out. But a few seconds later, it came back on. The light was blue now. She was puzzled.

“That’s strange. The key is working, but something’s not right,” she said as she took a small device out of her pocket and scanned the collar. “It shows the collar’s sensors have been deactivated. And it has been unlocked... but it should open on its own.”

“Maybe there is something else that’s keeping it from opening up,” Arathor said.

She looked at him, confused. “I know how these things open. There is no other hidden lock. There must be some glitch...”

“My guess is magic...” Arathor said quietly.

“What? How...?”

“I have been feeling it lately. The collar is unusually weakening me as days go by. It is bound by dark magic. I guess your brother didn’t want any loose ends.”

“I’m getting you out of here,” Arana said adamantly. He had been a prisoner there long enough. “The sensors are no longer working. At least the collar won’t blow up if we try to go out of range. And they won’t be able to track us down, either.

“I also got the code for getting you out of these chains,” she said.

“But how will we get out of the cell without being seen?” he asked skeptically.

“There are still a few hours before the first sun comes up. I’ll alert my loyal servants to get the ship ready. And then I’ll come for you. A robe with a hood will work, and if we run into any of Lorcan’s men, we can say the King demands your presence, or we can use these...,” she said, showing him the silver devices. “Tranquilizer shots.”

Arathor raised a brow at her as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The plan didn’t seem too bad. “You really are ready to leave,” he said in a low voice.

“Yes, I am as much a prisoner here as you are,” she said as her clear blue eyes lit up with a fire he hadn’t seen before.

“And where are we going?” he asked her, admiring her spirit.

She took a deep breath. “To Andromeda 13... It’s the nearest space station from Tirron, but far enough. We can bide our time there.”

Arathor grew quiet as he gazed at her. Her eyes were bright as the prospect of leaving thrilled her, and he could see fear now and then from under those blue depths as she really wanted the plan to work. But he could see that she was far too determined to let anxiety take over.

“Okay... I’ll be waiting.” He didn’t understand why a Magi was meant to be his mate. And for the first time in ages, he was afraid for her.

***

The old man followed Arana everywhere, whenever he got the chance. He was known as Lorcan’s man, his sage old advisor on the kingdom’s matters. He would roam the halls silently in his plain dark robes, and nobody paid much attention to him. He was in fact, Lorcan’s spy, his spider, who would linger around listening in to conversations and rumors outside the castle and reporting to the King.

Tonight, after a long time, he followed the woman back to her chambers. He had been out of the castle for days and it was the first time he had seen Arana go into the docking area where the ships waited. And he wondered what she was doing down there when the King had not allowed her to leave. Her loyal servants were secretly preparing the ship for her escape. He followed her back, and when she was in her chambers, he went straight to the King.

***

Arana changed into her traveling robes and put on a cloak around her shoulders. She wore dark crimson robes and a matching cloak. She quickly tied her hair up in a bun as one of her maids prepared her bag for the journey. She still had an hour before dawn and she was overly anxious, pacing the room as her maid packed her things. Her stomach knotted again, and she went over the plan again and again in her head, hoping she wouldn’t forget anything. Once before, she had been caught trying to escape the castle, but this was bigger. This time, she was going to leave the planet.

The sharp rap on the door made her jump. She gestured for her maid to see who it was and tell them she was sleeping. The maid looked frightened as she pressed the button on the wall and the door unlocked and slid open halfway. Arana slipped into the side chamber and went to her bed as she saw the maid talking to the men. They seemed to be Lorcan’s royal guards. What were they doing here? She heard the shuffling of feet. The maid screamed and there was a thud as she reached for the arched opening covered by heavy curtains. The men tore the drapes open and were upon her.

She gasped and staggered backward. “What is all this?” she demanded.

“My Lady,” the guard said gruffly. “Come with us.”

“Where?” she asked as her heart fluttered wildly in her chest and her mouth went dry. This was not good...

“King’s orders, ma’am. You have been trying to escape and you are to stay in the detention cell till morning. The King has ordered your execution,” the man said as he moved forward and held her arm.

“N...no...no! Wait! Let me talk to Lorcan!” she began as the man dragged her out of the room, ignoring her protests. She caught a glimpse of her maid who lay unconscious on the floor.

“The King no longer wishes to see you,” he said.

Sometime later, they shoved her inside the detention cell and locked the door. “No! No! No!...” she screamed in frustration, tears streaming down her face as she banged on the closed door. She stood alone in the dim light of the small cell. Feeling nauseous, she clutched her stomach as it twisted terribly when Arathor’s face flashed across her mind. She had failed... again... Sobs wracked her body as she slumped down on the floor. With her back to the door, she pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, letting the tears flow. Despair weighed down heavy on her heart as she knew there was no escaping this cell.

***

It was way past dawn and Arathor wondered why Arana hadn’t turned up. His chest constricted at the thought that something terrible had happened to his mate. And his dragon instinct clawed at him – screamed at him – that something was not right.

He could sense the evil in the air as the guards dragged him before the King, pulling on his chains as they forced him to his knees. Arathor noticed the shadow lurking behind the throne on which Lorcan sat. It was an old man in robes who stood watching and listening to every word being said.

“You fight well in the Pit, Slayzaryn. Nobody survives the Pit that long... You are much stronger than I thought,” Lorcan drawled as he twisted the stem of the wine glass between his thumb and forefinger.

Arathor saw the madness lurking in the King’s eyes... the thirst for blood. He was the kind of man who liked control.

“I have a proposition for you, Slayzaryn... Um, what do they call you back home?” he asked all of a sudden.

“I am Arathor Darthoridan,” he said, as Arana’s face floated before his eyes... What had he done to her? Where was she?

“Ah, Arathor. You will work for me as my chevalier and in return, you can have your freedom back. But first, you must prove yourself worthy,” Lorcan grinned as if he had made a very clever offer. “You will have to complete a few tasks before I take that collar off your neck. And if you succeed in completing all the tasks, I’ll set you free.”

Arathorn went quiet for a while, as he all he could think of was Arana and keeping her safe. This offer could get the collar off and he could go home. And then there was Arana. She was trapped here at the mercy of the mad king... The only way was to take her with him.

“So, do we have a deal?” snapped Lorcan impatiently. “Or you want to get killed in the Pit like the rest of them.”

“Yes. I’ll take the job,” said Arathorn reluctantly. He really didn’t have much choice now, did he? And he was sick of fighting the mindless battles and the collar was sucking the life out of him. Once he was out of this cell, he would find her.

“Very well then,” he said. “Guards, take him to his new chambers. And give him the clothing assigned for a chevalier.” He turned to him then. “I’ll see you at the Pit around midday. We will be celebrating a great event today.”

The sinister laughter left him feeling disgusted. The king was totally insane. And what event was he talking about?