Mia stirred. Her head felt fuzzy and her nose was tingling. She grimaced, and felt grass prickling her cheek.

That’s when she heard footsteps and the murmur of voices. It was followed by one of Vek’s fierce growls.

She lay still, her cheek to the grass, and opened her eyes to slits.

She saw tall, green-skinned aliens emerge from the vegetation. Their skin was thick and cracked, almost like the bark of a tree. Their hair was brown, and resembled a tangle of tree roots.

The aliens stopped in front of Vek. Oh, God, he was hanging in the air, vines holding him tight. He was straining against them, snarling.

“Welcome, beast. We are the hunters.”

The group of five aliens spoke in unison, their voices like the whisper of wind through branches.

Vek growled again.

“We are hired to secure only the best and most unique hunters for the tournament.”

“Slavers,” Vek ground out.

“We are the Nerium.” Fierce whispers. “It is an honor to hunt. It is not slavery.”

“We just want our women, and then we’ll leave.”

“No one leaves the tournament,” the tallest alien said. More whispers, as the others murmured their agreement.

Vek struggled against the vines. One green alien stepped in close to him, examining him like he was livestock.

“I see why our clients wanted you. You are a prime specimen.” The alien turned back to the others. “He will honor the hunt,” they all said in unison.

“Clients?” Vek said.

“Yes. They wanted you back.”

Mia sensed something and slowly moved her head. She saw that Galen was awake. The imperator was lying on the ground, watching the aliens. He shook his head at her and leaned over to wake Raiden.

“I will not hunt for you or your drakking clients,” Vek spat. “I will not fight for someone’s bloodthirsty pleasure.”

The tall alien tilted his head. “Then your friends will die.”

Mia froze. Vek gave a feral snarl.

“Who are your bloodthirsty clients?”

Another rustle of the bushes, and a sixth figure stepped out. Mia’s stomach dropped. She recognized the man with the disfigured back, misshapen face, and huge tumor dominating his face. He was a Srinar.

Vek went wild, jerking on the vines and struggling.

“You will fight in the hunt, beast,” the Srinar said. “Only then will I let your friends go unharmed.”

Mia froze in horror. No. She realized that this was another type of fight ring. It might look nicer and smell nicer, but it was just the same as the subterranean, dirt-covered arena of the fight rings.

The Srinar had never stopped their ugly games. They’d come here, to these dangerous, desolate mountains and were forcing people to fight against the deadly plants, and whatever else was hiding in here.

All in the name of sport and money.

She would not let Vek suffer that again.

Mia surged up. “Let him go!”

One of the green aliens turned to look at her. She took a step toward them, and suddenly vines burst out from the alien’s hand. They snaked around her body, and she tried to break free of them. Another one slithered up and shoved inside her mouth. A scream echoed in her head as she choked.

“Mia!” Vek was struggling wildly now, his gaze locked with hers.

She couldn’t breathe!

“Choose, beast-man,” the Srinar said, smiling.

The vine didn’t budge, blocking Mia’s airway. She jerked, trying to get air into her burning lungs.

The Srinar clasped his hands behind his back. “Fight and save your friends. Or do nothing, and she will be the first to die.”

Mia shook her head vigorously, tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes.

Vek’s chest heaved, all his muscles stark under his skin. His face was a fierce mask.

“Let her go. I will hunt and fight for you.”

Pain speared through Mia’s chest. But at Vek’s words, the vines retracted. She heaved in air, and then the vines unraveled from her body.

She crashed to the ground, rubbing her sore throat. She looked up at Vek and their gazes locked.

No. His gaze was full of horrible, soul-shattering resignation.

* * *

Vek watched as the Nerium rounded up the gladiators, herding them away. Mia fought and cursed, trying to reach Vek. Finally, Galen picked her up and, with a single, unfathomable look at Vek, the man turned to follow their captors.

Then he was alone in the small clearing. He heard the quiet whispers of the trees and the rustles of small, invisible animals in the undergrowth.

A long, mournful horn sounded through the dome.

He bowed his head. Once again, he stood in the center of a fight ring, waiting for his opponents to rip him apart. He lifted his arms, staring at his fighting forks and his hands. It seemed no matter how hard he tried, he would never be free.

He would always be dragged back to the darkness and blood.

The bushes to his right rustled, and suddenly a monster bounded out. Vek lifted his forks and turned to meet it.

It was humanoid, but covered in thick, golden fur, with large claws and an elongated snout. Vek slashed out with his forks, and he saw the bright-green eyes in the creature’s face. And the desperate horror reflected in them.

It knew this was a fight to the death.

Vek dodged, and then he felt the sting of claws across his side. He leaped back, and that was when he smelled it.

Neralla flower. Stronger than ever before.

The drakking Srinar were pumping it into the dome. He felt the fire start in his bloodstream, his aggression rising.

No. He let out a roar, trying to fight it. Memories struck him like arrows. Him, as a confused youngling, screaming as he was carried onto a ship…by a tall, green-skinned alien. The Nerium had kidnapped him.

He bellowed in rage. More memories came. Of the fight rings, of the drugs pumping into his veins. Of the swords prodding him into the ring, of the coppery tang of blood in his mouth.

His next roar turned his vision red. He spun, and saw fur and claws coming at him. He stabbed the creature. It let out a snarl, and he sank his hands into the fur. He spun, then tossed the beast.

It slammed into a tree trunk and fell to the ground, unmoving. Chest heaving, Vek wiped his forks on the grass, cleaning off the creature’s green blood.

He stalked into the trees, listening for any prey. He heard a buzzing noise and looked up. A small, metallic ball was floating in the air. It zipped behind a branch.

Vek bent his knees and leaped into the tree. He gripped a branch and shifted. He spotted the ball and snatched it out of the air. It made a beeping sound, the front of it moving to focus on him.

With an angry growl, he crunched the metal in his hand, and then dropped it to the grass. He jumped to the ground. Here, the grass was long, reaching to mid-thigh.

He wondered if the Srinar would keep his drakking word and free Mia and the others. Mia. Pain hit him. He would never again feel her smooth skin, taste her lips, or hear her cries beneath him. He closed his eyes. As long as she was alive and safe, that was all that mattered.

All of a sudden, the grass around him started swaying and making a swishing noise. Then, right before his eyes, it starting growing. It grew until it reached his waist, then his chest, then it reached his head.

Vek heard a rustle—quiet and stealthy. He turned his head, tracking the sound.

Another rustle on the other side of him, and he swiveled. What was out there?

Suddenly, a creature attacked, bursting out of the long grass. Vek got a glimpse of slashing, scythe-shaped claws, and a powerful body that moved on two strong legs balanced by a long tail. This creature was covered in bright feathers and let out a screech.

It smashed into him, and they slammed to the ground, crushing the long grass under their weight. Vek wrestled with it, feeling sharp claws slash at his belly. Blood slid down his skin.

With a growl, he heaved, rolling until he was on top. He landed a chop to the creature’s powerful chest, stunning it, and then jumped up. Vek brought his foot down on the animal’s neck, avoiding its snapping jaws.

He lifted his forks—

A heavy weight slammed into his back, knocking him off the creature. His arms got tangled in the long grass and he yanked hard to free himself.

Violent rage ignited in Vek. His kill.

Fight. Hurt. Kill.

A quiet part of him screamed. He’d never wanted to fight like this again. He reached over his shoulders and tore the attacker off him. He tossed the dark-skinned alien to the ground.

The humanoid man rose. He was well-muscled, with dark, striped skin and tattered fighting leathers. They stared at each other. The man’s body was scarred, and there was no doubting that he was a fighter.

The tall grass around them laid flat in a circle. Like it was creating a make-shift arena. The clawed creature had escaped into the greenery.

“If you lose, you die. If you win, you lose,” the man said in a raspy voice. “They will keep you here for years. Fighting, always fighting.”

Vek tasted bile in his throat and stared at the man. It was clear this man had been here a long time. The Srinar must have had this place operating, along with the fight rings.

The man yanked a jagged silver blade off his belt. He charged at Vek with a roar.

Vek thrust his hands up, catching the man’s sword in his forks. They spun. The man ducked, drew back, then raced forward again.

They traded blows, ducking and weaving. Vek fell into fight mode, watching every move and step the man made. He’d become attuned to finding a fighter’s weakness.

There. The way the man dropped his guard when he took a step back. Vek lunged and sank one of his forks into the man’s belly.

The man staggered back, his blade falling from his grip. He stared down where Vek’s weapon pierced his gut.

He lifted his face, and a calm, almost-peaceful look crossed his features. “Thank you.”

The man fell to the ground and didn’t move, staring up at the sky above, beyond the dome that was their prison. Vek dropped down beside him.

He gripped the man’s shoulder and watched the life fade from the man’s green eyes.

Vek lifted his head and roared out his despair. He’d never escape this. It was all he knew, all he was good at, and it was dragging him back.

He wouldn’t drag Mia into this.

Mia would live.

Over the rustle of the leaves, he heard yipping and snarling getting closer. He rose to his feet, settling his grip on his forks.

A pack of huge hunting dogs burst out of the greenery and rushed toward him.

Vek held his weapons at his sides, waiting.

He would do what he always did. Fight. Survive.

He rushed in, swinging his forks. The dogs were covered in spikes, and fought as a pack. One leaped in to attack, clearly a diversion to keep him busy. The others moved to circle around him. He sank his fork into the lead dog and it cried out. Another dog leaped onto his back, claws slashing at his skin.

Vek shrugged it off, and as another rushed at him, he kicked it away. He ducked, swirled and swung, but as he fought, he felt himself tiring.

Hunt. Hurt. Kill.

The words pounded in his head with each beat of his heart. Mia’s face drifted into his head.

Vek let out a pain-filled roar. He had a new motto now.

Save Mia.

He launched himself into the pack of hunting dogs.