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I had no disrespect for peaceful people, but I had only ever wanted to be a soldier. You didn’t do that if you weren’t ready, even eager, to throw down against any bad guy you were sent to battle.
“I get it,” I replied. “Why are you called Gladiators?” I leaned into him as I rode—he was near enough and tall enough—drawn by his strength and steady presence.
“It was a name given to us many moons ago by the Omers when we were their slaves, forced to fight in arenas for their entertainment. When we won our freedom, there was no need to change from the moniker because it is what we are… Gladiators. By nature, we love the fight—in and out of our Gladiator form. Even now, Gladiators have exhibition events where we fight for fun and to improve our fighting skills. No weapons or shifting. No lethal moves. We are too rare as it is, and no argument was ever properly solved with slaughter.”
“So… wait. You’re saying that anytime any of you has a conflict, your first choice is to say ‘get in the ring’?” I thought about that. “Your political debates must be awesome.”
He laughed aloud. “I see you are not easily shocked,” he said in a warm, pleased tone. “That is good. It will serve you well in my pack.” He paused for a moment, rubbing his chin. “In any political discussion of import, fists fly. But only against equal opponents. We’re allowed proxies if wounded, ill, or obviously outmatched.”
This all fascinated me. This world, were it not for how I had come here, I would have liked to spend some time in it, with these Gladiators. I might have volunteered. “So are your pack meetings open to anyone inside your pack?”
“So long as you don’t interfere, yes, of course. I would prefer that you be there when I speak with my pack. They trust my words, but there is greater credibility in a witness. And I wish to introduce you to them.” My heart quickened when his hand accidentally brushed mine, though he pulled back quickly.
“To your family.” Maybe not necessarily by blood, like a real wolf pack, but certainly in blood. There was a certain bond that developed between people who had fought for their own and each other’s lives, who had sweated and bled together in survival situations. You really saw who someone was when you had to rely on them to have your back.
“Yes, exactly.” He glanced at me and looked just a touch apprehensive. It was kind of adorable. I had thought he feared nothing, not even his own death. But he was clearly concerned about how this meeting might go for me—for us.
I smiled at him. “You know, isn’t it a little early in the relationship for you to bring me home to your family?”
He blinked at me, then shrugged. “No. Why would I not introduce my Sheleki to those I care about? You’re not some treasure to hoard for myself.”
I stared back at him, conflicted. Part of me wanted to say something snarky about his rushing things. Part of me wanted to end the conversation at once before it got awkward, and part of me respected his answer but also worried. It was clear I would not dissuade him from his belief that I was his soul mate—and I didn’t know what to think about it.
“You really think I’m your fated mate?” I asked slowly.
“Yes. Wulfaen choose their Sheleki.”
My mind tried to process this concept. “So in order to survive, your Wulfaen needs to find the perfect mate, a female destined for them alone?”
He nodded. “The female’s soul resonates with the Gladiator’s Wulfaen. Also, her body, mind and heart must be a perfect match for their own. That’s how I know you are my Sheleki.” He glanced over at me. “Plus my partial recovery proves that.”
That grabbed my attention, awkwardness or not. “Partial recovery? You’re still sick?”
“Yes.” Seconds ticked by in silence before he continued. “The mating sickness has been relieved just by your being here.” There was a faint longing in his eyes as he gazed at me. “But my Wulfaen will not be content until we’re mated. Until you have accepted in spirit and in flesh.”
I liked that he didn’t bullshit me about his intentions. But the prospect of actually fucking this big, gorgeous alien was preoccupying me. I didn’t know about staying in this place forever, even if I was free and had plenty of friends and Naxer, who acted like he was already mine.
“Does mating revolve solely around physical intimacy, or does it encompass more, like ceremonies or symbolic markings?” This topic did not embarrass me. I loved sex… not that I was ready to take that leap with him. But I was worried about the prospect of holding his life in my hands or in my pussy. I would have felt dirty exploiting it.
“In Gladiator culture, there’s a spectrum of traditions for mating. While each embraces different aspects, there’s one underlying constant: mating transcends the mere physical act,” he replied. “The Sheleki represents a mutual surrender, emotionally and physically, between a Gladiator and his partner. It’s about commitment, love, and nurturing each other. It embodies trust, loyalty, and an unbreakable bond.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip, lost in the contemplation of his words.Am I truly prepared for the depth of connection he seeks in a mate?A tumult of indecision raged within me.
It was terrifying here, and beautiful, and strange. I had spent most of my time here wishing that I would wake up suddenly and find myself in my bed in my apartment. That I could shrug all this off as a horrible and lengthy dream.
But now, looking into Naxer’s eyes, I wondered.
Could this be a place for me?
Is he the alien for me?
This is crazy.But so was this whole damn situation.
“I’m not sure what to say,” I admitted. “You’re talking about a life together. Here. Probably never seeing home again.”
His expression froze for a second, and then he hesitated like he was about to tell me something but wasn’t sure if he should.
“What is it?” I urged.
