Maxym
MAXYM
Cleo walks at my side as we make our way through the dome to the dining hall. Part of me delights in having her with me, the other half wants to exact violence on every single male who gets within half a click of my mate.
“You do know you’re growling, don’t you?” she asks as we make the final turn into the Gryn quarters and head in the direction of food.
“I am?” I clear my throat. “I am. It is to protect you.”
“You’re so transparent, .” She laughs.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I give my wings a good shake in the hope it might clear my head of the mate intoxication.
“Your growling has nothing to do with protecting me,” she says. “It’s for your own benefit.”
“It has everything to do with protecting you. No other male will come near,” I respond. “Which is the best way to ensure your safety.”
“I’m still,” she says as I steer her into the empty dining hall, “unsure as to why you volunteered to be my protection duty.”
“Volunteered.” I half choke on the word. “I volunteered because I…was at a loose end.”
“With the games starting in two nova-days’ time? I’d have thought you’d have been training,” Cleo says as I offer her a seat, which she takes with grace.
“What do you like to eat?” I ask, avoiding answering her.
“Oh, anything. I can’t stomach gila-eggs though. They bring me out in a rash since…” She gives me a shifty look. “Anyway, I can’t eat them,” she concludes.
“Gila-eggs are considered too rich for a gladiator’s diet anyway,” I say. “But I’ll bear it in mind.”
I make my way over to the hatch and slam my fist against it. “Food for two, no gila-egg.”
“Gila-egg? You’ll be lucky, Gryn,” a voice responds on the other side of the hatch. “Stand back.”
Blayn might be long gone, but his shadow remains, and the dining clerks, a bunch of vrexing Habosu who hate us all with a vengeance, will not put any food through until we’re away from the hatch.
With a grumble, I pace away. The hatch opens and two trays slide out. Basic rations. All I’m due for my punishment.
I’d prefer to offer my little mate something much more sumptuous, but then, if I can get a pass, it might be possible to take her to one of the many places in Tatatunga which accepts gladiators. Provide her beauty with an accompanying meal.
I pick up the trays along with some cooling water for us both and take it back to her, sliding onto the bench at her side.
The second the food is placed in front of her, her stomach makes the empty noise again. Whatever she may protest, my little mate needs to eat.
“You shouldn’t have waited so long,” I admonish her.
“I know.” She puts some of the roasted meat into her mouth and releases a small groan which, frankly, makes me want to mate her on the spot.
Instead, I do my best to rearrange the cocks which are threatening to poke a hole in the fabric of my pants and offer her a morsel from my platter as well.
“This is good!” she says, enthused, taking the piece from my fingers while further destruction is wrought in my crotch area. “Gladiators eat well. Retah will be interested.”
I dislike her speaking of this other male in such fond terms.
“Retah should not be interested in what you do,” I say before I can stop myself.
“He’s my boss.” She glares at me. “And my friend. He helped me out at a time when I thought no one would help me.”
“And he is excited you are with young?” I ask, hating every word which comes out of my mouth.
Cleo says nothing, her head dipping and her hands dropping from the table into her lap. It disconcerts me she is no longer eating as she has hardly consumed enough to keep a pikrat alive.
“He doesn’t know. You’re the only one who knows.” She lifts her head up. “And if you tell anyone, I will shove your sword somewhere you will regret for a long time.”
This little female is an absolute delight. Fierce, violent, willing to protect her young at any cost.
And she’s mine.
She might think she has a say in what happens next, but she will not. Cleo belongs to me, every single delicious part, including the young which grows within her.
“I will not say a word, little scrap. Not with such a threat hanging over me.”
Cleo goes back to her platter, which is pleasing.
“Like I said, , you’re transparent as hell, but I will do it if you breathe a word to anyone about the baby. You’ll be watching your back night and day.”
“I’d prefer it at night, if you insist. Preferably in my nest.”
Vrex! Did I just mention nesting?