Gladiator Wolf (Gladiators Book 1)

by Marteeka Karland

  The look she gave him was so full of horror and shock he almost laughed. “Of course I am! I wouldn’t wish that on anyone!”

  “All right, all right,” he chuckled. “Just get out of here. Keep your eyes open and don’t come back. Watch the games. I’ll signal you when it’s safe for you to return.”

  “If all goes well, it won’t matter,” she said. “I intend to get you free tonight.”

  Again he asked, “Why tonight?”

  “Just be ready,” she said, banging on the bars to get the guard’s attention. “I’m ready to leave,” she yelled.

  A burly man appeared, key in hand. “I hadn’t realized you were in here, Mistress. My apologies.”

  “No bother,” she said with a smile, tugging her hood back over her face. “I need to see the slave master before I go. I have instructions for him.”

  “As you wish.” The guard bowed slightly before leading Miranda away.

  What in the world did she have in mind?

  With a sigh, Brandwulfr sank down on a nearby bench, head in one hand. “Son of a bitch.” He thought he knew what the little vixen's plan was, and he was sure he’d never survive it. But he planned on enjoying the living hell out it before he died from a pleasure overdose.

  * * *

  It was tonight or nothing. Her father was gone on a two-day jaunt to procure more slaves and Miranda was left alone. Oh, her mother was there, but no one bothered her mother during auction days. Even her father steered clear, which was probably why he was gone this night. Victoria had been even more ill at ease these past weeks than normal. The sexual release she got from the slaves she procured during the pleasure auctions was probably the only thing that kept Rudolph alive. They fought bitterly most days. Several times, Miranda had been certain they’d come to physical blows, but they never had.

  Tonight, Miranda was counting on her mother’s preoccupation with her sex slaves to get Brandwulfr out of the house without her notice. As she saw it, the only flaw in her plan was the hour or two they’d have to wait until sunset in order to set out. During that time, any number of things could go wrong. Hell, any number of things could go wrong at any time.

  Wringing her hands at the thought, Miranda hurried to her bathroom. She splashed cold water over her face, noting her reflection in the mirror. The bruises over her face had faded considerably, but the marks remained. At the thought of how they’d been healed—and who had done the healing—her face heated, thus hiding any remaining bruising. The thought was so amusing she nearly laughed out loud.

  With a sigh, she went to her closet. Choosing the right outfit was a must. The slave masters had to believe she was there to purchase a slave for a night of pleasure or they might report the goings-on to her mother. While Victoria wouldn’t have issue with her daughter taking a gladiator to her bed, she might have a problem with her attempting to free one. Especially one like Brandwulfr.

  Miranda chose a silk gown of crimson, the neckline plunging dangerously low. Trimmed in gold with gold inlays throughout the material, the color accented the gold in her hair and the red of her lips. While the skirt brushed the floor, there were slits up the front of either thigh that stopped only a scant couple of inches below her waist. No panties marred the effect, leaving her skin bare when she walked, though the skirt covered her mons. Several layers of mesh in the same crimson color fell all around her, giving only the merest peek at the treasures that lay beneath. She finished with her black and gold cloak, uncomfortable in the garments she’d chosen, yet knowing they’d be necessary if she were to convince the slave masters of her intentions. If one were to play the seductress, one had to dress the part.

  Giving herself one last look in the mirror, Miranda wiped her sweaty palms on a towel, trying desperately to calm her frazzled nerves. So many things could go wrong tonight. Not to mention Brandwulfr’s reaction. How would he take being auctioned off to the highest bidder? Gods! What if she didn’t have enough money? If she let him get sold to someone else, he’d likely kill her for the indignity of it. He might decide to kill her, anyway. She straightened her shoulders. This was the only thing she could think of. He’d just have to get over it. He was the one who’d demanded she get him out of there. He’d have to live with whatever she came up with. Satisfied she’d done everything she could to prepare, Miranda made her way to her transport. The quicker she got this over with, the quicker she could get back.

  The ride to the auction chamber of the catacombs was the longest of Miranda’s life. The worst thing that could happen right now would be running into her mother. Hell, for all she knew, her mother might try to buy Brandwulfr. Miranda had left specific instructions for the slave master to have Brandwulfr ready, but she hadn’t thought to mention he would be for her use only. Normally, anyone who owned a slave could use him at her leisure. Miranda hadn’t wanted anyone to know who would be purchasing Brandwulfr this evening. As a result, she’d left him open to the public. Any woman there could purchase him. Doubt crept into her thoughts again. No! Positive. Think positive!

  Once at her destination, Miranda made her way to the viewing area. Every slave there—including Brandwulfr, Aya, and Zev—were there for potential customers to view and decide who they most wanted to bid on. While Zev and Aya had a few approach them, Brandwulfr snarled at any woman who thought to buy his time. Miranda had arranged for a friend to purchase both Zev and Aya. Looking around, she saw the woman in question. With a nod, the woman indicated she was prepared. Miranda thought she looked considerably less nervous than Miranda did herself.

  Moving around the gallery, Miranda pretended to eye the offerings around her. She studiously avoided looking directly at them, only throwing a negligent gaze in the direction her guide indicated. All of them were naked, the males aroused. She hadn’t expected that. The man selling their services lingered on several men, obviously hoping she’d choose one of them. Had she truly been out for sport or lessons in the erotic pleasures, she might have chosen one of the leanly muscled men he showed her. Compared to them, Brandwulfr was...slightly more intimidating.

  “Are you certain you don’t wish to look at these men more? I’m sure you’ll find them much more...accommodating than the one you’ve requested.” The man seemed genuinely distressed, wringing his hands and eyeing the slave master several times before looking directly at Miranda.

  “I’m quite sure. I have very specific tastes in mind, and I’m quite a good judge of character,” she said, boldly meeting the man’s eyes. He was slim, very small in stature, and spoke in an unctuous manner that was quite the opposite of his countenance. The man looked like he might have a stroke if she insisted on choosing Brandwulfr.

  “My lady, I must insist,” he continued, still glancing at the slave master as he spoke, as if the other man’s opinion was more important than Miranda’s. “The gladiator Brandwulfr is quite beyond your...slight stature.” The man had the nerve to look her up and down as if he found her somehow lacking. The nerve!

  Miranda thrust her chin up, letting her hood fall away from her face. “I assure you, sir, I’m well aware of what I’m requesting. Now, if you please, show me the one I’ve requested.”

  With a heavy sigh, the man said, “Very well. This way. But remember, all sales are final. You will not get your money back, and we are not responsible for any injuries.”

  “Understood,” she said, keeping her chin high and her steps sure. The last thing she needed was to let her nerves show.

  Once in front of Brandwulfr, she nearly lost her resolve.

  It was one thing to know how big the man was, but quite another to see him in the rock-hard flesh. Sure, she’d been near him, had been mashed against that magnificent body many times, but to see him unclothed and aroused? He intimidated the hell out of her, and all he did was look at her. It was all Miranda could do not to turn and run for her life. She had to remind herself she wasn’t here for that, only to make it seem like she was.

  “He’s not what one would call civilized,” the
little man said. “But he’s never left a woman unsatisfied that I’m aware of. Just take precautions with that one. He has no love for the Sky Dwellers.”

  “I’m well aware of what I need to do,” Miranda said in her best high-born, haughty voice. “Now leave. You have my bid. See to it I get this one.”

  “As you wish, my lady.”

  As he left, Miranda and Brandwulfr stared at each other. Miranda did her best to keep her eyes on his face, but despite her resolve, her gaze wandered lower. If she’d thought he was intriguing before, this man freshly washed and oiled to show off all those delicious muscles was devastating. She’d known he had a magnificent body, but this…

  It was no wonder women like her mother sought these men out for bed sport. All she could think about was how they’d spend those couple of hours before sunset, knowing it was something she could never have. For one thing, she wasn’t that experienced. Brandwulfr was way out of her league. The sight of his erect cock pointing directly at her was proof of that. She couldn’t imagine trying to take him into her body, yet at the same time, she was dying to try.

  “You like what you see?” He sounded more angry than curious.

  “What? Oh! Well, it’s just that…I’ve never…” She cleared her throat. “That is, you’re quite an impressive sight.”

  He crossed his arms over that massive chest. Standing on the pedestal they'd put him on, his much larger frame towered over her. He would have anyway, but it just seemed more intimidating. The look on his face was that of a supremely pissed-off male.

  “I have to say, you’re certainly inventive with your ideas. If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was tell me.” He scowled at her. “If you were anyone else, I’d break your little fool neck!”

  Miranda felt the flush creeping up her chest to her face and closed her eyes in mortification. “Just get through this part and you can dress. I had no idea they’d make you do this.”

  With a shrug, he said, “Just as well. I’d almost forgotten how much I disliked your kind.”

  “This was the only way I could think of to get you out of the catacombs,” she hissed. “If you had a better idea, you should have told me!”

  “So, what’s the plan? You’ve got me here. Now what?”

  “If all goes well, the slave master will take my bid. I’ve not announced who I am because, though it would mean I could have you for free and as long as I like, it would also alert my father. For enough money, these transactions are off the books. The slave masters are the ones taking all the money, as well as the risks,” she explained. “I’ve offered enough that, should something happen and you don’t return, the slave master can claim to have sold you in my father’s absence. It's enough money that he can claim to have deemed it not worth bothering my father about while he was indisposed.”

  “You’re taking a huge risk.”

  “It was the only thing I could come up with!”

  He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. “No. The risk is too great. If you’re caught, we’re all dead.”

  “I’ve thought this through. I’ve got it all planed out,” Miranda pleaded. “This is the only way. My mother will be occupied and, once the sun sets, you’ll have all the cover you need. No one will be expecting you back until daybreak and won’t start looking for you until close to sunset. By the time they realize you’re not coming back, you’ll be long gone.”

  “Mistress! Mistress!” The little man returned, face flushed, waving the agreement in his hand. “The slave master accepts your terms!”

  Miranda winced, pulling her cloak over her head a little more. Her mother was just across the way talking to not one but two prospective bedmates for the evening. If Victoria caught her, the whole plan would be ruined.

  “Watch your voice!” she hissed. “Did you never think I might not want to draw attention to myself?” The little man halted mid stride. Miranda could almost believe he was sincere in his regret except for the smirk he tried to hide.

  “My apologies, Mistress,” he said, bowing deeply. “I only meant to let you know right away. I’m sure you’ll wish to arrange transport for the beast. If you’ll just give me the address—”

  “I’ll be taking him with me. I have my own guards as well as my own transport.” Miranda made her voice as strong and sure as she could when inside she was quaking. I will take him with me once he’s dressed.”

  “But, Mistress, this one needs special supervision—”

  “And you think I’ll allow your guards into my bedchamber? My men can handle him on all fronts. You will do as I say. You’ve already forfeited any compensation you might have received for your trouble for your blatant disrespect for my privacy. Don’t make me take up your insubordination with the slave master himself.”

  The little man bowed deeply, but seemed otherwise unaffected by her barbs. “As you wish, Mistress.”

  “You risk much taking that one home,” a cool, familiar voice said from behind her. Dammit! Her mother.

  “He looks as if he’s worth risking much,” she replied, not turning around.

  “I’ve often thought of trying to handle him myself, but something in his eyes always made me decide against it.” Miranda could almost see her mother eyeing Brandwulfr up and down and had the mad urge to scratch the other woman’s eyes out. This was her mother, for crying out loud! Then she pulled back Miranda’s cloak enough to whisper by her ear, “Don't be silly! I never wanted him for that. I free the men and women I buy here." When Miranda gasped, Victoria continued. "Do be careful, dear. Your father wouldn’t take kindly to that one being in our home, or with him being with his daughter. If you intend to free him, make sure you do it before your father comes home. There's liable to be a war otherwise.”

  Miranda jerked her head around, facing Victoria. The older woman had a contemplative look about her. “You won’t say anything?”

  Victoria shrugged. “You’re a grown woman. You’re free to seek your pleasures wherever you desire. Or to satisfy your own sense of justice.” She glanced around as if afraid their conversation might be overheard. “Only, be watchful.”

  “Of him?” It seemed Miranda was in over her head with every single aspect of this whole situation.

  “Of everything,” her mother whispered. “A storm’s coming. Be ready.”

  With that, her mother left. Brandwulfr shifted, his eyes darting around the room much as her mother’s had. “What did that mean?”

  Brandwulfr shook his head slightly, clearly on edge. “You need to go. We’ll do this some other time,” he said softly. “I need to be somewhere I know the layout.”

  “It’s tonight or never, wolf,” she said between clenched teeth, beginning to get irritated herself. “Don’t ask me to do something risky then back out!”

  “Can’t you feel it?” He growled his question. Miranda saw him start to reach for her but just prevented himself. “Something is going to happen. Soon!”

  Miranda shook her head, feeling more paranoid than ever. “What are you talking about?” Just as she spoke, a barely discernible rumble rolled through the cavern, like thunder on the horizon. “You sense it before it happens,” she whispered. “The storm Mother was talking about?”

  “Something,” he said, rubbing his arms absently. Miranda’s gaze was brought to them, and she noticed his skin had erupted in chill bumps, the fine hairs standing up all over his body. Then he seemed to shake himself. “Fine. Tonight. But you do exactly as I tell you.”

  “I haven’t been able to find the portal in this part of the city, but I’ve heard my father speak of it many times. There is one somewhere near the great temple beside the arena. It’s not used much anymore because the men they’ve captured there have been exceedingly aggressive. I think you were the last live capture. They’ve tried to seal it, but have been unable. Tonight, we’ll go there. Once you’ve found it, I’ll help you get as many of your people out of the catacombs as possible. We’ll have to—”

 
“You’re out of your mind!” he growled. “You will get me to the temple and then do as I tell you if you want to stay alive!”

  Something in his eyes told Miranda she was pushing too far. He was on edge with whatever his sixth sense was telling him. Her risky plans weren’t helping his mood any. In any event, the little man from before arrived with clothing for Brandwulfr. Well, he handed him a wrap for his lower body, anyway. Apparently they weren’t taking any chances clothing what they considered a dangerous animal, thinking he’d reconsider any escape attempt if he were nearly naked. Obviously, they had no clue what kind of being they were dealing with. Brandwulfr would make his move when he saw fit, no matter what.

  “Here are the keys to his chains,” the man quipped, holding out an iron ring with two keys on it. “I suggest you leave them on, but I suppose what you do depends greatly on how aggressive you want him to be during...the act.” He tittered behind his hand as if he’d made a great joke. “Enjoy your beast, Mistress.” Then he left. Miranda blew a curl off her forehead as she rolled her eyes at him.

  “Come on.” Brandwulfr urged her away. She got the impression he would have snagged her arm if his hands hadn’t been cuffed in front of him. He stayed behind her, but close enough she could feel his presence as they walked through the tunnels. She’d had the transport wait in the shadows of the catacombs in case of prying eyes. Why she was so paranoid, she had no idea, but Miranda just had the feeling something bad was going to happen. It was like a nagging ache between her shoulder blades she couldn’t get rid of.

  When she spotted the car, she sped up, needing to reach it before…something happened. Surprised that Brandwulfr kept pace with her step for step, she jumped when he reached for the door to open it for her. Awkward as it was with his wrists bound, he practically shoved her inside before following.

  “Get these things off,” he growled at her. “Now!”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, fumbling with the keys, her hands shaking. Just as she spoke the earth rumbled, sending a fine spray of dust around the cavern where they were parked. Miranda shivered as she beat on the glass separating them from her driver before punching the intercom button that allowed her to speak to the man through the soundproof barrier. “Move!” she shouted. Apparently, the driver was just as spooked as she was, because he took off nearly before the word left her lips.