Rogue Cyborg. Grace Goodwin
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beast.”
But he would. We both knew he would. “Stupid to challenge an Atlan,” I added, referring to the young Prillon.
“Yes. None but Tyran, or perhaps the Hunter, could defeat one of us.”
One of us. He included me among the Atlan ranks, as always, but I was not one of them. Never could be.
The next two fights went as expected until four warriors remained. Tane, two Prillon warriors, and a male from Trion whose skin shone silver in the afternoon light. I had not met him, but he was rumored to be more machine than man, and his fighting instincts were superb.
Tyran raised his hand, waiting for the crowd of warriors watching to quiet. “Here are the remaining four. Chance will decide their fates.” Tyran held out a deck of cards, face down. “Highest values will fight first.”
The crowd cheered again as the warriors each drew a card and lifted it into the air. The two Prillon warriors would face off against each other first. Then Tane would fight the male from Trion. After that, they would be down to two and the champion would be the last male standing.
Every single one of the four looked smug. Confident. As if Gwen already belonged to him. I wanted to jump into the pit and pummel them all into dust, but I didn’t dare move, not even to frown. Stone. I must be like Stone.
A woman’s bellow of rage filled the air and the cheering crowd of warriors went silent.
The door built into the side wall of the fighting ring was flung open, striking the side with a loud bang as Gwen marched into view wearing full battle armor. Her hair flowed down her back like black flames and fury rolled off her shoulders in almost perceptible waves. Eyes narrowed, muscles tense, she looked like a warrior goddess, too beautiful to be real. My breath caught, my cock lengthened at the sight of her.
Two other human women, both mated to Colony warriors, stood behind her in formation, like a strike squad, but they paled in comparison to Gwen’s fire and I ignored them easily.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” Gwen yelled at Tane, clenching her fists. The giant Atlan Warlord actually flinched, as if he were a small boy being scolded by his mother.
Tane looked confused, then bowed before her. “My lady… I—”
“Don’t you dare my lady me!” She marched up to his towering form, completely unafraid.
Next to me, Braun could barely contain his laughter, his shoulders shaking quietly as he watched the drama unfold. I wanted to punch him as well… for being right, for understanding more about Gwen than I had.
Covered in sweat and blood, the four warriors turned as one to face her, closing in, pleading their individual cases. I could not hear what they said, but none of it pleased her. Her hands moved to her hips, her head tilted to the side as if she listened and considered their words. But her eyes were like fire, feminine fury shining brightly. Fuck, she was gorgeous.
Braun’s increasingly smug smile had my hands clenching into fists of my own as he leaned back and put his hands behind his head, stretching. Resting. Amused.
I looked back to Gwen, afraid if I kept my gaze on Braun I would punch that knowing and very possessive look right off his face. The males in the pit had lost any chance they had with her now. Braun just had to wait until she pulverized them all and then step in.
Gwen’s gaze darted up into the stands and Braun held his breath as her attention flitted over him, then moved to me.
Air trapped in my lungs, her gaze like a physical blow, the gaze narrowing, her cheeks flushing even darker.
Yes, I wanted to be the one to put color in her cheeks. I had to wonder how far down it crept beneath her armor, if her nipples were that same deep shade.
It was over in half a second. The glance. The look. The stare. The intensity.
Gwen looked away, rolling up the sleeves of her uniform shirt, although I had no idea why. Her voice, when she spoke, was not overly loud, but cold. Hard. “You want to fight? Okay. Let’s roll.”
Moving almost too fast to track, Gwen lifted the closest Prillon warrior and threw him even farther than Tane had thrown his opponent earlier. The Prillon offered no resistance, rolling to his feet after he landed, keeping his distance. When the other three warriors backed off with their hands out in front of them, clearly refusing to touch her, she kept pace, shoving the Trion warrior in the chest. She attacked in silence, each strike of her hands on male flesh loud in the distinct quiet. The warriors watching had no idea what to do. Cheer? Cringe?
The silence seemed to enrage her, for she yelled as much at the crowd as she did the four fools left in the fight. “Come on. Fuck all of you. You wanted to fight. Let’s fight.”
“Gwen, are you sure about this? I think we should wait for Maxim.” Rachel, the governor’s mate who stood near the open doorway, tried to plead with the irate female but to no avail.
“Get out of here, ladies.” Gwen looked over her shoulder at the other two human females, motioning them away with a graceful wave of her hand. “This has nothing to do with you. These idiots should know exactly who they’re messing with. Who they’re fighting over like dogs would over a piece of meat.”
Kristin, Tyran’s mate, burst into laughter, taking hold of his hand and leading him away when he would have interfered. Shocked, I watched the strongest male on the planet let the small human female—his human female—to pull him away from the fight. Braun had been right; Kristin believed herself independent, in control of her mate. He was allowing her to lead him away.
Looking back over her shoulder, Kristin had a huge, happy smile on her face. “Go get ‘em, girlfriend.”
Gwen smiled then, coldly. Darkly and full of menace. “Oh, I will. I’m going to kick ass and take names.”
I had no idea why she needed the names of warriors already familiar to her, the Earth slang beyond me, but I had a feeling it wasn’t anything good.
2
Gwendolyn Fernandez, The Colony, Ten Minutes Earlier…
The hammer I swung was at least four feet long. The heavy, blunted end was designed to pulverize rock in the caves beneath The Colony’s surface. Designed for an Atlan or a Prillon warrior, not a five-foot-five female from Earth.
Had I been normal—still fully human—I wouldn’t have been able to lift it, let alone swing it in a wide arc and bring it crashing down on the wall in my friend, Kristin’s, living room.
I’d been at it for over an hour, and barely broken a sweat, or worked the edge off my frustration. I was a hamster on a wheel on this stupid planet, and every oversized man-child here thought I not only needed a keeper, but wanted a big, bad alpha male to tell me what to do, what to eat, what to wear. Some Prillon had offered to put a collar around my neck so he could read my emotions or some shit.
The thought made me feel violated. The chaos of my mind was not a pretty place right now. I definitely didn’t need to give a Prillon warrior—or two—access to the inner sanctum. What they’d find would probably scare them. Hell, most of the time the thoughts running through my mind scared me. Thus, me beating the shit out of Kristin’s wall.
I swung the hammer again, harder, taking down a chunk twice my size with one blow. I didn’t hear the door open, but it must have, because I was no longer alone.
“What the hell, Gwen? When I said I wanted the wall torn down to make this space bigger, I wasn’t thinking right now, and I wasn’t thinking you’d do it.” Kristin’s voice broke through the noise I made while smashing the wall to bits. I looked over my shoulder at my friend, the dust swirling around me like I was Pigpen from the Charlie Brown cartoon.