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He caught my expression, and his eyes widened slightly. I looked down quickly, but the damage was done.
A long silence broke over us. Then the two bosses looked at each other, and the taller one sighed. “Rannix, we can’t get rich on dying Earthlings.” Relief washed over the other captives’ faces briefly at the announcement of rest, emphasizing the critical need.
I was straightening to turn and walk away, head full of what I would tell Zahira and how badly I wanted to sleep, growing aware for the first time of every ache and pain in my body, when Rannix let out a soft cough. I paused, looking back at him.
He waved dismissively at me. “She’s far too disruptive and rebellious to keep alive. Knock her out and cage her for the jungle beasts.”
“What?” I yelled, outraged more from being separated from the others than from the threat against me. I hit my limit right then. “You sick fucker,” I snapped, lunging forward with all my remaining strength.
My fist connected with Rannix’s throat and he stumbled back, gagging and grabbing at himself like a human would have. The hope of seeing him collapse from a crushed windpipe vanished though as the cartilage didn’t snap, and I yelled in frustration as Boran yanked me backward.
Then, like the cruel punctuation at the end of a terrible sentence, the pain stick made contact. A jolt of excruciating pain coursed through my body, rendering me incapable of coherent thought or movement. My world dissolved into an agonizing white void.
CHAPTER3
NAXER
Barely able to taste the dried meat between my teeth, I stared out into the jungle. I wasn’t used to eating alone anymore. I had done it, of course, mostly as a young Gladiator on patrol or sent to take down some forest beast that had come too close to my pack. But this isolation, broken only by the riding dog panting at my feet, would be for the rest of my life.
The cold of the night was creeping in, making the trees around me bundle in on themselves like bodies wrapped in green shrouds. The fire I had kindled only pushed it back enough to keep my front warm. My hunt had been fruitless today. I was eating from my supplies again, leaving the beast within me aggravated and even thirstier for bloodshed.
The overgrowth was too quiet. Some predator’s presence had spooked the usual chatter and rustles into silence. I heard nothing large moving out there in the green dimness beyond my clearing camp, nothing bigger than Chaser, my mount.
The big riding dog was getting old to carry me, but that was all right. Soon he’d be hunting the wilderness free of my burdens and of me. My riding days were over.
Soon I wouldn’t need a mount anyway. I would run on my animal legs, under my coat of fur, forever. Or at least until my pack found me and put me down.
A sob caught in my throat as I stared at the moons, knowing my time left as a sane Gladiator was short.
The animal inside me, my Wulfaen, was taking over. Not much yet, but I’d noticed the signs—uncontrolled shifts, increased sweat, bulging veins—and so had my entire pack. I had known from the way they had looked at me before I left on my last journey. The worry, the sadness, that touch of pity that I had so hated to see. I had wanted them to remember me as an outstanding leader and a hero to my pack. But now their last memory of me would be of tragedy.
I had entered my fourth decade of life without finding my Sheleki—my one true mate. To a Wulfaen Gladiator, that was practically a death sentence. The older the Wulfaen grew, the more powerful it was, and the more badly in need of a Sheleki to calm its darker urges. A Sheleki was the destined mate for a Wulfaen Gladiator, one whose presence could soothe their inner beast.
Most of the time, my beast’s presence had been a blessing. The Wulfaen strengthened me, made me faster and tougher. It sped my healing and, when needed, granted me the power of its form. But being unmated so far into adulthood was making it turn on me.
My Wulfaen did not comprehend that we had no females left, the last had died off, and our cloning program only created more males like me. My father, prior to his own sickness, had raised me alone.
Thus there were no females native to our world who could be my true mate. And thus fewer who might be my Sheleki and calm the animal within me.
All the males among the Gladiators suffered the same fate as time went on. I was not special simply because I had been Alpha and my people needed me. The Wulfaen would make no exception for my circumstances. It was demanding. It wanted one female in all the galaxy, and since I had not found her, it was punishing me. Just as its kind punished so many others.
The mating sickness took more and more of my people with every decade that went by. Their beast-selves drove them to violent madness, and they exiled themselves before they could harm their own packmates. And then, sixty revolutions later, their pack Alphas would hunt down and destroy the ravening beasts that were left.
This is to be my fate.
Slowly, as the new moons cycled toward fullness again, my Wulfaen would continue to fight for full control of my body, the peace between us destroyed by my failure to find our mate. I would become violent and predatory, forcing my inner beast to take over, locking my Gladiator inside my Wulfaen. Eventually I would remember nothing of my time as a male. Any creature that came near me would be prey or a challenger.
Once that happened, I would be far too dangerous to allow to live. The many huge and powerful predators of the forest were nothing compared to what I would become.
I would not risk killing my pack brothers or the Gladiators who lived in the other sectors. Our collective population was already collapsing. Every life among us was precious, and my unfettered Wulfaen would kill its way through a pack. It was far better for me to die.
I finished my meal and added another piece of wood to the fire. It smoldered for a long while before catching properly. The unseasoned wood I had gathered was too wet. I had forgotten to hang-dry it first. The oversight worried me. I couldn’t help it.Is my loss of focus a sign of my exhaustion or of the beast eating away another part of me?
I have to hang on.
But I’m not sure why I’m bothering.
But I’ll cling to every part of my thinking self until the last part of it is gone. It wasn’t in my nature to stop fighting, even when I knew I would lose.
