Iska gripped her arms, a flicker of hope tracing across his spine. “Why?”
“If we don’t, we’ll be killed.”
“That will happen anyway.”
“No, it won’t. There’s a way out of here. I’ve seen it.”
Avril gasped as Iska flipped her onto her back and pinned her down. “Tell me.”
She squirmed and bucked underneath him, making a good show of trying to get out of his hold. All her gyrating movements did was get him excited. Was there really a way out?
“When I was in a cage waiting to be brought out, the soldier I’d injured was carried past on a stretcher. They used a concealed exit to get out.”
“Where is it?”
Avril landed a blow on his arm. “Sorry. Near the cages. It must be a transporter or an access door.”
Iska grinned. “I always knew you were smart.”
“We’re getting out.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and tried to flip him over.
His grin widened. “You don’t stand a chance of moving me.”
Avril glared at him. “Then help me. We’re supposed to be fighting.”
Iska twisted and let Avril flip him onto his back again. “How do you want to play this?” His fingers curled into her hair, and he smoothed it away from her face.
“We fight our way toward the tunnel we were led through. That will get us closer to the exit.”
“It’s definitely a way out?” Iska wasn’t going to risk Avril for a shot in the dark.
“I saw what looked like the inside of a ship. It has to be a way out. The soldiers used an access panel to get it open. I know where it is.”
“We can beat this place. We can beat my family.” Iska leaned down and kissed her.
Avril made a surprised sounding noise but didn’t push him away. “We’re supposed to be fighting not...” She looked away and blushed.
“Don’t worry. We’re going to do plenty of that word you can’t even say when I get us out of here.” Iska jumped off Avril and was about to offer his hand to help her up but stopped himself. They had to make this fight look realistic. They had to keep everyone entertained, so they didn’t know what they were doing.
Avril jumped to her feet and moved several steps toward the tunnel. She landed several punches on Iska. Each time she hit him, she apologized. It was an adorable quirk she had, just like her voice box malfunction. It made him desire her even more.
Instead of taking the beatings, Iska defended himself and pushed her away.
She nodded. “Better. Pretend I’m Tythe.”
“I could never do that. If I get the chance to take him out, he won’t ever get back up.”
Avril’s eyes widened. “Okay, don’t think of him when you attack me.”
He grabbed her and used his weight to push her closer to the tunnel. His mouth was by her ear as he spoke. “If we don’t make it, I want you to know...” Iska never spoke about his feelings, not in any way that mattered. He raged and yelled and told people he would kill them but never said anything when someone made him feel good. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything other than fleeting glimpses of happiness.
“More fighting, less talking,” Avril gasped as she dug her heels into the ground.
He yanked her closer. Iska needed to tell Avril this. “I want you to know you’re amazing. You make life worth living.”
Avril stopped struggling and stared up at him. “I do?”
He nodded. “You make it all worth it.”
“I, well, thanks.” She looked away.
His gut clenched. She wasn’t into him, not in that way. Did she like him as a friend? If that was true, why had she been shaking and gasping when his tongue had explored her?
Iska reared back as pain flared through his leg. His hand reached for his thigh where a blade was lodged.
Tythe stood at the edge of the arena, a smirk on his face.
Iska grunted as sparks of agony flicked through him. The blade was lodged deeply in his leg.
Tythe looked at Avril. “It is time you act decisively if you wish to live. You know the rules of engagement. Unless you both want to die, one of you must kill the other. Keep stalling and I will take away that option.”
Avril nodded at Tythe, her eyes wide as her gaze moved to the knife sticking out of Iska’s thigh. “What shall we do?”
“Keep going,” Iska hissed.
“I can’t fight you now.” She gestured to the spreading pool of blood on the ground.
Iska grabbed Avril’s shoulders and pushed her. “You must.” He limped toward her, his hands clenched, and his eyes narrowed.
Avril raised her fists again.
Iska saw several of her knuckles were bleeding. “Hit me.”
She nodded. “Sorry about this.” Avril punched him three times in the chest.
“Keep going,” Iska growled. “Push me back toward my brother.”
Avril’s eyebrows rose. “What about the tunnel?”
“We’ll get there. My brother always was a stupid asshole. It’s time he paid for his latest mistake.” Iska’s gaze slid to the knife still embedded in his thigh.
Avril shook her head. “No, you can’t take that out. You might bleed to death.”
“You’ll look out for me if he’s hit anything serious. Keep moving me backwards with those sweet little kiss punches of yours. I need to be within range.”
“Kiss punches?” A look of determination crossed Avril’s face, and she pummeled Iska with blows.
“That’s my Warrior Princess.” As Avril kicked Iska several times in the chest, he didn’t need to fake the fact it hurt as he staggered back.
“Bravo,” Tythe shouted. “That’s more like it. Give us a real fight. Show me some of your blood and sweat. We must be entertained.”
That was it. Iska was close enough. He gritted his teeth as he yanked the blade out of his thigh, turned, and hurled it into his brother’s chest.
The soldiers seemed to move in slow motion as Tythe collapsed to the ground as if not believing what they’d just seen. Blood pumped out of Tythe’s chest as he writhed on the ground.
Iska grabbed Avril’s hand. “Time to go.”
As they ran toward the tunnel, his leg felt on fire every time he used it, and Iska had to resort to limping.
Avril looped an arm around his waist. “Lean on me. I’ll get us there. It’s not far.”
Iska knew they only had a few seconds head start before the soldiers came after them. They had to make it. They had to get out of this nightmare. Avril needed to be safe.
The torch light of the arena faded as they progressed along the tunnel.
Iska clamped his lips shut as dozens of curses threatened. He needed to concentrate on them getting out and not focus on the throbbing agony of his leg wound.
“Here it is. It’s right behind this panel.” Avril stopped and ran her hand over the wall.
“Are you leaving so soon?”
Iska spun around and came face-to-face with his father.
Chapter 23
Avril pressed her back against the wall as she continued to search for the way to open the door. Her hands skimmed over the wall as she stared at the imposing figure of Iska’s father looming out of the shadows.
He was taller and broader than Iska, now that she saw them standing so close to each other. Even though he had his fur fluffed out in a showy display of aggression, she still saw a long, jagged scar across one cheek.
She looked at Iska, and her heart stuttered. He seemed frozen to the spot as if the sight of his father had made him malfunction.
Avril’s gaze went to the wound on his leg. Blood pumped freely from it in a regular wave that must match his heartbeat. Tythe must have hit an artery when he struck Iska with the blade.
Iska’s father took a step forward.
Avril saw Iska’s shoulders bunch as if he was preparing to attack.
“Stay away from us, or I will kill you,” Iska growled.
Tarle ch
uckled, although his laugh held no kindness. “I have watched you over the years in your futile attempts to gain recognition and glory. It is only tonight that I finally see my true son standing before me.”
“I am not your son,” Iska hissed out. “You’ve told me that enough times.”
Tarle folded his hands in front of him, standing like he was chatting to another diplomat, not the son he’d just tried to have killed. “Do not take it personally. I had five cubs with your mother when you were born. Removing the runt is our way of getting rid of weakness.”
“That’s not true,” Iska growled. “Other families cared for all their cubs, no matter their size.”
“Then they are all considered weak and less for doing so.”
“You’re wrong,” Avril said. “Parents love their children no matter what.”
Iska glanced at her and shook his head, a flash of concern in his eyes.
Tarle turned his attention to Avril. “Perhaps you are the reason my son has finally grown into a real man. He has something he considers worth fighting for.”
Iska moved in front of Avril, blocking her from Tarle’s view. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“I believe she has a lot to do with it.”
Avril’s hand splayed across Iska’s back. She could hear the rage simmering beneath the surface of his words.
Racing footsteps echoed along the corridor, and three soldiers appeared.
Tarle waved them away. “Leave us. I’m having a conversation with my son.”
“My lord, your other son.” One of the soldiers gestured back to the arena.
“Is dying. It is no more than he deserves.” Tarle’s glare suggested an end to the discussion. “Take Tythe away. I do not wish to see him.”
The soldiers turned and marched back to the arena.
Avril looked from Iska to his father. A shiver of doubt ran through her. Tarle was telling Iska everything he’d ever wanted to hear. All Iska wanted was to be accepted, just like her. He’d fought to gain recognition and be noticed and appreciated.
“Your actions tonight have made me see the true you,” Tarle said. “I would like to offer you a place at my side.”
Avril sucked in a breath and moved to stand next to Iska. “Isn’t that where Tythe should be?”
Iska grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her back against the wall. “This is not your fight.” He looked at the wall behind her.
She nodded, knowing they couldn’t afford to be distracted by Tarle. This was the only chance they’d have to get out of here.
“My son knows his own mind, at last.” Tarle’s tone was smug. “As to your question about Tythe, it would appear Iska’s aim with a blade is excellent. If he survives this, I will be astonished. Even if he does, Tythe will be weakened. He will be less able. I need a capable, strong fighter by my side. I need Iska.”
Iska nodded slowly. “You offer me much. I have always wanted to be a part of the family.”
Avril’s hands stilled from her search for the access panel. She longed to tell Iska not to believe Tarle. Iska had spent his life being beaten down by his family and told he was worth nothing. He couldn’t accept them now, could he?
She stared at Iska and saw how hard he breathed. This was his dream. This was everything he’d ever wanted. She couldn’t shatter that by telling him it was wrong or to question the words he’d just heard and had probably dreamed about for so long.
Her heart ached for Iska. After so long fighting, he was finally getting what he wanted.
Iska glanced at Avril. “What will happen to her?”
His father laughed again. “If you want her, then she is yours. That is your decision to make. I’d advise you to choose your future mate carefully. When you are by my side, you will need to honor the values we hold. Having a human mate is less than ideal. You should have a Mehab female as your true mate.”
Avril pressed her lips together, wanting to do nothing more than tell Iska’s father to get stuffed. She was a good enough mate for Iska.
“There are few Mehab females that will make suitable mates,” Iska said.
Avril’s eyes widened. Was he seriously considering this?
Tarle nodded. “It is true; their fertility is an issue. Those in positions of authority have access to rare things. If you require a fertile Mehab, you will have one. I can give you everything you desire, everything you need to be a part of the family.”
“And Avril?”
“If you must, keep her as a plaything. Make sure she stays out of sight. You must not tarnish our name over your obsession with this human.”
Iska took a step toward his father.
Avril’s breath caught in her throat. He wouldn’t accept these conditions. She was nobody’s plaything. She wouldn’t hide and be Iska’s mistress while he paraded someone else as his true partner.
Iska took another step. He was tempted by this offer. Avril could tell. His desire to be accepted and loved was more important than anything. It was more important than her. The fragile relationship they’d built felt like it crashed down around her as she watched Iska extend a hand to his father.
“You make a wise decision,” Tarle said. “You will give up this bounty hunting nonsense and remain with me. I offer you so much. Everything you want is within your reach.”
“You can go fuck yourself.”
Avril’s head jerked up at Iska’s harsh words.
Iska’s father snorted in surprise. “You have conditions?”
“You’re the one with a condition. It’s called being an arrogant bastard. You think after everything you’ve done to me, all the humiliation and rejection you put me through, I would want anything from you.”
Avril’s fingers clenched, and she grinned. Iska was no fool. He knew what his poor excuse for a father was like.
Tarle waved a hand in the air. “If you turn this down, I will ruin you. Your name is already a joke in our community. If others find out you have turned down an opportunity like this, they will know you are a failure, damaged, and not worthy of our family name.”
“It’s something I’m used to,” Iska said. “You don’t control me. You don’t have any power over me.”
Tarle growled and his fur stiffened. “Think carefully about your next move. It could be your last.”
Iska stepped closer to him. The two Mehabs stood toe to toe, both growling as the tension in the air shot up.
Avril took a step away from the wall. She was delighted Iska had stood up to his father, but she didn’t want to see him hurt. He was already badly injured from the stab wound in his leg. The trail of blood leading from where he’d stood showed her how bad his injury was.
“Avril is worth a thousand of you,” Iska said. “I would never make her my plaything. She is my equal. Fuck that. She is better than my equal. She is honest and pure and decent. There’s not a bad thing about her.”
Tarle’s lip curled. “If she is so perfect, perhaps I should make her mine.”
Iska snarled, and his fingers bunched into fists. “That’s never going to happen. You would try to break her and spoil her for your own amusement.”
“He would fail,” Avril said.
Iska nodded, his attention still fixed on Tarle. “He would. She is everything to me. You are nothing.”
Avril’s heart felt like it would explode in her chest. She was his everything. Avril still couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Iska was standing up for her. More than that, he’d showed her he cared. He wanted her, despite everything his father offered him. He chose her.
Tarle snarled and slammed his fists into Iska’s chest.
Iska staggered backward and grabbed his wounded thigh.
Tarle didn’t hesitate as he lunged and struck Iska on the side of the head with a punishing blow.
Iska fell to the ground with a wounded sounding moan. He did not get up.
As Tarle moved in for another blow, Avril gasped when she saw a flash of something metallic on Tarle’s fist and a blo
ody blade in one hand. He was fighting dirty.
Iska lurched up, his feet slamming against his father’s legs and knocking him down. The blade Tarle held flew across the room.
Heat surged from Avril’s head and down to her toes. All the pent-up anger, frustration, and rage she’d held in flooded through her. She’d spent years keeping quiet and not telling people what she really thought. But it was all inside her, bubbling away. Not anymore.
The scream that flew from her lips as she charged at Iska’s father sounded otherworldly. She grabbed his shoulders as he made to stand, jumped up, and wrapped her legs around his neck.
Avril was still twisting in the air as Tarle fell backwards and hit the ground. She jumped off him, stamped on his hand, and pulled off the metal knuckleduster he’d used to hurt Iska.
The knuckleduster was a poor fit for her hand as she shoved it into place, but it would do.
She dropped her knee onto Tarle’s airway and ground down. She slammed her metal clad fist between his legs. For the first time in her life, Avril had no desire to say sorry for the pain she inflicted.
“You dirt bag.” Her fist hit Tarle’s jaw.
Tarle growled and spat blood.
“You... craptastic fuzzball.” Another blow landed. “You’re nothing but an oversized kitten with an attitude.”
Avril thought she heard her name being called but was so lost in her fury she couldn’t be certain. Tarle had to pay for all the hurt he’d caused Iska.
She raised her fist again. “Puppies could beat you, you lying, crappy, smarmy, meanie.” It felt so good to unleash her anger. Her curses were nothing like the gold standard crudeness of Iska, but her shoulders lifted every time she swore.
Her metal encrusted fist made contact with Tarle’s face several more times.
Suddenly, Avril was lifted in the air. She kicked out in surprise until she felt the familiar stroke of Iska’s tail around her waist.
“Enough. You’ve done enough,” Iska huffed in her ear.
The rage firing Avril died as quickly as it had started. The bones in her hand throbbed, and when she looked at the bloody face of Tarle, she thought she might puke.
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