The Great Mother watched over him.
She’d given him a mate and now he had hope one day he could Claim and be Claimed.
His brothers had gone to the Afterlife the Great Mother promised all Badari and were beyond the reach of the Khagrish scientists or any other earthly travail.
And he had more distance to go on his journey but as he left the grove and headed for the barracks beyond the gardens Jamirr’s heart felt lighter and he was filled with determination to figure out a way to have what he wanted most—Samyra as his claimed mate and a bond to this Alpha and this ragtag pack of Badari.
Chapter Nine
Four weeks later…
Samyra knocked on Kyden’s office door five minutes before the appointed time with confidence and entered with a smile on her face when he called for her to come in. She took the chair beside his desk and leaned back, ready to hear the offer she was plainly expecting. She hadn’t won the season, which was a disappointment, but she’d come in third overall and amassed a respectable number of points.
Kyden didn’t waste any time. “I can’t offer you a contract?—”
Sitting straight up and instantly becoming angry, she launched her inevitable accusation. “Because I won’t sell you Jamirr.”
“Because the medical report my House physician prepared states you have Lajaran’s Syndrome and we both know that’s a debilitating disease which will end your career as a gladiator sooner than later.” He kept his calm.
“So much for medical privacy. I should have known your doctor would betray my confidence.” Her tone was bitter but she also didn’t deny the diagnosis.
“In our contract for this engagement that’s now ending, you agreed to take a comprehensive physical and in the fine print you agreed my doctor had your permission to discuss the full and complete results with me,” Kyden reminded her.
“You and your damn fine print. Fuck you. I don’t need you or your House. I have my own House and I can still fight.”
“If Jamirr protects you. For now. Sooner or later nothing will help and even the Porter-Tevigni circuit will discover you can’t fight any longer.” Kyden took a deep breath. “The time comes for every gladiator to retire, Samyra. Some manage to do it at the top of their game, to go gracefully, leaving the audience wanting more. Others hang on too long and destroy their own legacy. Take my advice and bow out now. I could offer you a contract to become a member of our exhibition team. Benet can work out a routine for you and your animals to perform, a mock fight to dazzle the crowds. Look at how much they love Dmitri’s horse act.”
“Act,” she said as if the word was dirty. “I’m a fighter, not an actor.”
“Dmitri earned his retirement and there’s nothing to disdain in his work with the horses.”
“I live for the arena,” she said. “The crowds, vanquishing the opponents, the triumphal rush of taking my victory laps. I can’t give that up—I won’t. Not until there’s no other choice. Buy Harton or don’t buy him, Jamirr and I are going home.”
“Porter Three isn’t his home,” Kyden said softly.
“Neither is this place,” she retorted.
Studying her for a moment, Kyden leaned forward. “I’m going to tell you a story almost no other humans in this part of the galaxy have heard or will ever hear. I’m asking you to keep it to yourself.”
“I can’t promise until I know what it’s about,” she said in a sulky tone.
“Fair enough. Jamirr, Rennyr, Talinn, Demitri and I are genetic brothers from different Generations. We were created in labs by a race of alien scientists on an alien world far away. In fact, no one knows where it is so none of us can return to our actual home. The scientists used humanoid material and mixed it with various types of alien predator DNA. That’s why we have these—” He flashed his heavy black talons, impressed when she didn’t flinch. “And other attributes. Because of the alien DNA we live in a pack structure, which sustains and nourishes needs deep within us. We have a pack bond. I’m the Alpha of this small pack here and we’re a tight knit, loyal group. I can’t offer the pack bond to Jamirr because you won’t release him. Nor has he asked, I will admit.”
“But if all that’s true, how did this small group of you end up here in the Hinterlands?” she asked.
“For all but Dmitri, we were sold. His story is his own to tell and I won’t go into it here. For various reasons, someone at the labs faked our deaths and managed to ship us out to be sold for a profit as future gladiators. We were created to be warriors, trained to be lethal. It’s not a big jump from that to the arena and I imagine the guards or techs or maybe even a rogue scientist or two over the centuries made a lot of credits selling the occasional ‘defective’ Badari on the black market.”
“Over the centuries?” she repeated in a dazed voice.
“We’re all from different Generations. When I managed to earn my freedom here and then buy the gladiatorial House I made a vow to find and rescue any other brother of mine who might have suffered a similar fate as I did. To be a Badari Warrior on his own in the galaxy is a terrible thing,” he added. “Jamirr was badly damaged by being subjected to cryosleep, which is a flaw a subset of us suffers. When we came to visit you he didn’t know or remember any of his past. Over time, we’ve managed to help him bring his memories to the fore.”
Samyra was silent but then her emotions got the better of her. “I need him and he needs me. You said yourself he hadn’t asked to be part of this pack you’ve got going on here. He’ll be returning to Porter Three with me in two days.”
Kyden hadn’t expected nor allowed himself to hope for any other outcome today. He was trying to plant seeds. Now he said, “I will have two concessions from you, Samyra.” He held up one clawed digit. “If anything changes, anything at all, you will contact me.” A second finger joined the first. “You will give me first right of refusal if you ever decide to sell him or are put in a position where you feel you must part with him for any reason.”
“I can agree to those stipulations.”
He relaxed. “I’ll accept your word as your bond.”
