by Tillie Cole
My breathing was hard and heavy as my body jerked against his. When I raised my head, Ilya said, “I need you.”
Acting on instinct, I released his length. Lifting my legs, I carefully straddled his waist. Ilya’s hands immediately planted on my hips and his expression showed his possession, the approval of where I now sat.
I moved a hand to cover one of his own, and as I did, we both stilled. I met his eyes and he met mine, and I knew, without words, what was being said: We had each other.
Ilya and Inessa—the High Mona and the champion.
Forbidden.
Reaching behind me, I guided his length inside me, slowly leaning back until he had filled me so impossibly full. I gripped his hand as my head drew back at the feel. Shivers raced up my spine as Ilya began guiding my hips to move. I lifted up, then lowered back down, building speed in tandem with pleasure.
Ilya’s hands roamed over my body. My eyes snapped open when Ilya palmed my breast and whispered, “Inessa.”
I froze as I stared down at him. He was watching, waiting to hear my response. Moving my hips, seeing his nostrils flare, I replied, “Ilya … my Ilya…”
As his name left my lips, something in Ilya broke. His control snapped, unleashing a hungry snarl that ripped from his mouth. This time, despite his pain and injuries, Ilya lifted his torso. With strong, unyielding arms, he wrapped them around my waist and flipped me on my back. Ilya was over me in seconds. His body blanketed my own. His thick neck was corded with veined, tense muscles. Positioning himself between my legs, he pushed forward. We both cried out as he filled me again. As he braced above me, I turned my head and placed kiss after kiss on his wrist. I felt his racing pulse flutter beneath my lips. When I looked back up, Ilya was staring at me, his hips rolling, piercing me with pleasure. Reaching up, Ilya panting harshly above me, I ran my hands down his broad back. At my touch Ilya, groaned, head tipping back.
Pressure began building at the bottom of my spine. When Ilya looked back down, I whispered, “I’m close…”
Ilya’s eyes glittered and his skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. “Yes,” he groaned. I knew he was close, too.
Needing to see his face when I found pleasure. Needing to watch him come apart too, I slid my hands until they palmed his cheeks. Ilya lowered his head and pressed his chest against mine. His warm, quick breath washed over my face. His lower stomach pressed against my bud of nerves, and unable to hold off anymore, I felt my channel contract as pleasure took me in its hold, my scream of release echoing loudly off the cell’s stone walls. “Ilya!” I moaned as the hedonistic feeling didn’t fade.
Hearing his name usher from my lips, Ilya jerked in his movements and, with a final hard thrust, spilled inside me. His eyes squeezed shut as he gave in to his release. Then, like an answer to every wish I’d ever had, Ilya’s mouth opened, and he called out, “Inessa!”
My vision blurred as he crushed his heavy body to mine. His lips found my cheeks and neck, and with every caress, he repeated, “Inessa, Inessa, my Inessa.”
Ilya tucked his head into the crook between my neck and shoulder. I gripped hard and ran my hand through his blond hair. Ilya muttered something against my skin.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
Ilya slowly lifted his head. When he met my eyes, he said, “I want this.” He inhaled. “I want this every day. I…” His words cut off, but he forced himself to finish, “I want to be forever with you.”
I blinked quickly to rid myself of tears. But my stomach still plummeted. Ilya’s face dropped. “How would that be possible?” I questioned, the cave in my tunneling returning stronger and deeper. “Master will never allow it.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, hanging on with everything I had. I wanted to freeze this moment so it would never end. I wanted to stay here, just like this.
“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. He was as defeated as I was. When I looked at his face, he said, “I thought having a female would make me weak. I thought wanting someone, being with someone, needing her, would destroy my place here in the pit.” He paused, then said, “But since I let you into my heart, since I let you into my soul, you have made me stronger. I want more than fighting and death. I want more than this pit. And I want that with you. Only you.”
“Ilya,” I whispered. The only thing I could give him in response was, “I want all of that with you, too.”
He ducked his head, then lifted it to ask shyly, “You do?”
I smiled and cherished the feel of his warm skin pressed against mine. “More than anything.”
Ilya’s lips twitched. I held in my breath when a full smile spread on his cut lips. I gasped at the beauty. Moving my fingers to his lips, I pressed my fingertips to them and said, “I don’t want Master. I don’t know what life looks like above this place, but with you I wouldn’t care … as long as I could be with you. I would live in perpetual darkness if it meant I got to keep you by my side. We would be you and me. Then one day, we could maybe have more. Children. Laughter … happiness.”
The tension around Ilya’s eyes had softened at my confession. I waited with bated breath for how he would respond. But just then a cool, but angered, voice mused, “Well, this is interesting.”
Ice shattered down my spine when I recognized that voice. I stilled in Ilya’s arms. Ilya’s cold killer expression filled me with dread. Ilya’s arms shook at my sides. When the sound of the cell opening shattered the tense silence, Ilya jumped to his feet and charged for the door. I sat up on a scream as I saw guards run into the cell and push Ilya against a wall. Charged picanas were pressed against his skin, Ilya roaring out as the high-voltage charge ran through his body.
I stared at my warrior, but Ilya was glaring at Master. Master who, when I turned to face him, was storming toward me. His dark eyes were furious. He reached out and grabbed me by my hair.
A rage-filled bellow ripped from Ilya, but before I could even turn around, Master had pulled me from Ilya’s cell, unclothed.
As I was dragged down the hallway, my feet slapping on the stone floor, I could still hear Ilya fighting to be free of the guards.
Tears streamed from my eyes, caused by the pain of Master’s grip on my hair. He wrenched me around a corner and we began to descend some unfamiliar stairs.
Fear cut through me as I lost my footing and slammed against the wall. We landed on the floor of a narrower hallway and my knees gave out. But Master continued to drag me, my skin grazing on the rough stone. I cried out when he pulled harshly on my hair. My body fell forward, causing Master to stop.
Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around my arm and wrenched me to my feet. I cried out as he did, and I found myself being hurled against the wall. My back smacked against the stone, robbing me of my breath.
Then Master was in my face, his teeth gritted hard. “Bitch,” he snarled, and released my hair to wrap his hand around the front of my throat. I struggled to breathe as he squeezed his hand tightly. Moving his face to mine, he bit out, “Bitch whore. Another unfaithful bitch whore.”
I instinctively clawed at his hands. The second my nails dug into his skin, Master let go of my arm, keeping me in place by the hand on my neck. He sliced the back of his hand across my face. I had tried to move with the hit, but Master’s other hand kept me still.
His dark eyes were wild as he glared at me. As he landed another smack across my face, I knew this was it. I had disobeyed the ruler of my life.
A life I knew he was going to take.
Leaning in closer, he spat, “You chose that savage animal over me!” His hand moved to my core and I closed my eyes. He used his hand on my throat to hit my head against the stone until my eyes opened again. When he knew he had my attention, he cupped my center harshly, then withdrew his hand and wiped it across the skin on my stomach.
Releasing my neck, he gripped my hair again and commenced dragging me down the hallway. The farther we got, the darker it became. We didn’t walk for long before we came to a stop. Master opened a lar
ge metal door and threw me inside. He slammed the door behind us.
I forced myself to sit up, and when I did, I wished that I hadn’t. I ranged my eyes around the room. It was empty but for two large beams that had ropes tied to them. And on the far wall were tools. Lots and lots of tools.
I felt Master close in behind me. Without speaking, he lifted me off the floor by my arm. I tried to protest when I saw he was taking me to the posts. Master dropped me in the center of the two masts and walked over to the first and took hold of the rope. My stomach fell when he walked back to me and tied a loop around my wrist. Master pulled hard on the rope until it tightened on my wrist. I cried out as the rope cut into my skin.
He didn’t even flinch as he did the same with the rope on my right. He stepped back when he had attached them to my wrists. My hair was in front of my eyes, shielding me from his cold stare. But then the ropes pulled. They pulled so tightly that my body lifted up until only my tiptoes touched the floor. My arms were held high, suspended by the ropes.
I bit down on my tongue to stop my cries. The taste of coppery blood filled my mouth.
“Look up, slut,” Master commanded. Forcing my head up, I could see Master glaring at me from a few feet away. My hair still covered my eyes, but I could see his rigid stance, I could see flashes of his fuming face. Annoyed by this, Master stepped forward and pushed my hair back until I could see him clearly.
He had taken off his jacket and vest. He had removed his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. His expression was severe as he glowered at me. His eyes tracked over my body. He shook his head. “So much potential,” he muttered, and stepped away. I watched as he walked to the wall of tools and removed a leather lash. As he turned to me, he snapped it between his hands. The loud echo ricocheted around the bare room. Master stopped before me, making sure his words hit home.
Master took the end of the lash and ran it across my torso. “I sacrificed my High Mona to make 901 yield to me. To become the most ruthless champion there ever was. He would fight to get you back. You are a mona, a trained whore, your talents would make him fall in time. Fall hard.”
He moved the lash to run over my lips. “But I never expected you to fall for him. I am Master of the pit. I created this world. I created you.” The anger radiated off him in waves. “Why would you want him, an animal that knows nothing but killing, when you had me?” Master stilled. “My last High Mona chose a fighter, too. She fell for the animal that I had commanded to take her. Then she disobeyed my order of never seeing him again and crawled back to his cell.”
His eyes were wild with rage and he drew back the lash. I watched it as he placed it at his side. “Just like you,” he said coldly. “Just like you disobeyed me.” Master stepped forward. Lifting his hand, he gently caressed my face. I flinched, expecting him to be cruel. But he wasn’t; he was gentle and kind. His voice softened and he asked, “Why, petal? Why him?”
My lips trembled as I pictured Ilya’s face in my mind. My heart swelled at the mercy thought of his smile and touch. My lips wore a small smile, and I said, “Because we are the same. With him I am someone. With me, he is someone, too. We make each other strong.”
Master didn’t move. A dark eyebrow rose at my answer, then he laughed. He laughed loud and true. He laughed in my face. My skin prickled as he sobered. Then, after a kiss to my cheek, he said, “You are not someone, pretty petal. You are a mona. I own you. My people took you from being someone, if you can call being an orphan someone, and I put you to use. But I own you, make no mistake about that. Just like I own him. On your own you are nothing; together you are nothing.” Master shook his head in amusement. But I could see his ire at my choice of Ilya over him. It was killing him inside.
As I stared at Master, as I felt the ropes digging into my wrists, I knew this was it for me. I knew I would not come out of this alive. I knew he would murder Ilya, too. I didn’t know how, but he would find a way to kill him in the final. It was two days away.
Knowing I had nothing left to lose, I found the courage to say, “There was no part of being with you that I enjoyed. You are a cruel and evil male. If you were to go toe-to-toe with any of the so-called animals you have created, they would tear you apart in seconds. They don’t hide behind Wraiths and guns. They don’t need the heavy drugs; your champions prove that. You sit on your throne, making me grovel at your feet. In reality, you should be the one groveling for every life you have taken or sullied in this pit you call your empire. What the rest of us call hell.”
My lips curled in distain. “I don’t remember my life above the ground, but whatever it was, if it was good or bad, at least it would have been mine. I would have chosen my own path. And I would never have chosen a male like you. Your touch is repulsive to me. You are repulsive.” I made sure I had his attention, and spat, “You, Master, are not worthy of me. It was never the other way around.”
Master glared. I wasn’t sure what he would do, how he would react. Then a smile pulled on his mouth, but it wasn’t a good kind of smile. It was cruel. It was a smile he wore when he ordered someone’s death.
Master’s nose stroked down my cheek. “You may have had a choice aboveground, petal. But you would have always been a whore. Every woman is a whore. I just make sure there are no mind games with my monebi. They serve and they get fucked … the only thing they are good for.”
Master stepped back, his hand tightening on the lash’s handle. “I saw you, petal. I saw you watching 901 as he trained. I saw the look in your eyes. And I saw it with the scarred mutant the New Yorkers brought in. I saw you watch him too, and him watch you.” He tapped his temple. “I stored it all away. Just in case you betrayed me, I kept note.” He shook his head with incredulity. “901 is a champion. An animal, but a champion. The scarred fighter, 194? I don’t understand the appeal of him, but you clearly did.”
Master cracked the whip at his side, my body jumping at the action. He smiled again at my reaction and moved around the posts to stand directly behind me.
I closed my eyes, feeling his warm breath as he kissed the side of my neck. “You held such promise. I thought I had picked well.” He tutted, then added, “But I was wrong. Your pretty face lured me in, and every other man in this pit.” Master kissed me again, and I wanted to throw up. His touch was like poison to me now. There was only Ilya who had me.
“You were my delicate flower, 152. My petal. And just like a petal, you will wither when ripped apart.”
My eyes opened. He stepped back. Three footsteps sounded on the stone floor. I heard the crack of the whip and braced for the punishment for my defiance.
“Just a few lashes,” Master said flatly. My breathing came fast as I prepared for the pain. “You seem to have a thing for scarred mutants. So let’s make you into one, hmm?”
It was several strained minutes before the first strip sliced along my back. But as the pain ripped through my flesh and the screams tore from my throat, I pictured Ilya in my mind.
I would die here in this room.
He would die in the final in the pit.
But I smiled as another strip hit, because we would each pass knowing the other’s name.
We would find each other again.
In whatever life came next.
14
ILYA
The room was covered in red as the mist of rage descended over my eyes. The guards struck, one after the other, the charge from their picanas singeing my skin. But I didn’t stop. I swung and lashed out. The guards tried to stop me, but every crush of bone or spill of blood only fueled me more.
My wounds from the fight were forgotten as I replayed Inessa being ripped from my cell by her hair. I had seen the look in Master’s face. He was going to hurt her.
He was going to kill her.
A loud roar spilled from my mouth, and I grabbed the nearest guard by his neck, lifting him clean off the floor. The others struck me with their picanas, bringing me to my knees. But I took the guard with me, using the last of my str
ength to slam him to the ground. The guard’s spine cracked on the hard floor, eyes rolling back in his head as his life drained from his body.
Shaking my head from the aftereffects of the electrical charge, I didn’t see the blow coming to the back of my head. I fought to keep awake, until my vision faded and I blacked out.
The next thing I knew, I woke with blistering pain throbbing throughout my skull. I forced my heavy eyes to open, my vision clearing to show me the wall of my cell. I frowned, unable to remember what had happened, when I suddenly remembered someone being dragged from my cell … Inessa!
“Inessa…” I growled low, my throat dry and sore.
Pushing off the floor, I staggered to my feet. The cell seemed to tip, and I fell against the wall. I focused on the cell door. Forcing myself to push forward, my hands felt along the wall, my muscles screaming for me to stop.
I ignored my aching body and wrapped my hands around the cell bars to keep upright. A guard stood on the opposite side of the champions’ quarters, his gun raised and aimed at my head.
I didn’t care.
“Let me out,” I snarled. He shook his head, rocking nervously on his feet.
I could hear the distant sound of the crowd and knew I had slept long enough that the tournament had started. I was due to fight today if I wanted to get to the final. I squeezed my eyes shut when another harsh throb pounded my temples.
Incensed at the thought of where Inessa was, at what Master had been doing to her, I shook the cell doors. “Let me the fuck out!” I screamed.
The guard paled but otherwise didn’t move.
I broke.
Bellow after bellow left my mouth. Even low on energy, I shook the bars until chips of stone began to break away above. I didn’t stop. I kept going and going, until I saw another Wraith, one unfamiliar to this cell, put his hand on the other guard’s shoulder.