My Wild Pet (Whispers from the Imperial Cage #2)

Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

Aefre

I watch from my console as Ash and Ember cross the final obstacle. Their movements are almost synchronized now—almost.

Still, they’ve improved and I have no doubt this is because Ash has a closer bond to Ember, thanks to my latest intervention. I flooded her system with Neural Bond vX: Synthetic Oxytocin—50 IU per while she was in the medical center just before Ember walked in.

Most medical facilities would only administer a quarter of that. But for my plan to succeed, Ash needs to trust Ember and it was taking too long for it to happen organically.

I step away from the console, descending the staircase to meet them on the gymnasium floor. The sound of the holographic generator fades as the course resets itself, the obstacles retracting into smooth metal.

“You’re improving,” I say. “But, the Grand Championships will not wait for you to find your rhythm,” I continue, my gaze shifting between them. “Your movements must be seamless. Your trust in each other, absolute. Tomorrow, we will increase the difficulty,” I say.

As I turn to leave, I glance back briefly, catching the way Ember leans slightly toward Ash, his voice low as he murmurs something I can’t hear. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she nods, her expression softening just enough to show that she’s listening.

Good . Their bond is growing strong. I just hope the artificial foundation is robust enough to hold it.

I stand in the ship’s strategy room, the holographic interface glowing faint blue as it displays the Championship course. The layout is vast, intricate, and unforgiving. A maze of shifting obstacles, deceptive holograms, and calculated distractions designed to exploit weaknesses and test pet and trainer bonds alike. Every turn, every challenge, every trap is deliberately engineered to reward exceptional pets and punish mediocre ones.

Ash and Ember’s profiles are displayed beside the course, their biometrics and performance metrics updating in real time. Their progress has been steady, but not without its flaws. But today they both made tremendous progress.

I adjust the course simulation for tomorrow, overlaying the specific challenges that will require their synchronization. The tandem rope bridges, the shifting walls, the mirrored corridors that distort perception. Each one demands perfect timing, unspoken understanding, and absolute trust.

The holographic interface shifts, displaying the other competitors, human pairs from across the galaxy. The contenders from Callix Prime are particularly concerning. Their statistics are higher than Ash and Ember’s, their movements are flawlessly choreographed. Will Ash and Ember be good enough to win?

It’s dark and I’m almost asleep, but then Ash calls out to me. “Master?”

“Yes?” I say curiously.

“What’s going to happen at the Grand Championships? I mean,” she hesitates, searching for the Imperial word. “What’s the schedule?”

“First, we travel to the hotel,” I say. “The Celestial Spire is one of the finest in the galaxy. You’ll see human pets and trainers from countless worlds—some more competent than others.” I pause, letting her absorb that. “Once we’re there, you’ll have a week of orientation and practice to get used to the arena and to slot you into the proper heats.”

“And… Ember? He’s reigning champion, right?”

“Indeed. I expect you both to be placed at prime times, performing during the highest spectator turnout. That’s how the system works—the better your ranking, the larger the crowds.”

“Is that… important?”

“Yes. More spectators mean more bets. More bets mean more credits, for trainers and pets alike.”

“After that week of practice… then what?”

“Then the competition begins in earnest, stretched out over several days. Around fifty teams will likely start, but many will fail in the early rounds—some pets will die, others just won’t score high enough to advance to the pair challenges. The numbers aren’t your concern, Ash. It’s complicated for a pet to understand. Don’t worry. I’ll monitor everything.”

“I know about numbers,” she says.

“Of course you do,” I say, humoring her. “But focus on the events themselves. The order is straightforward: first, a public observation of pets and trainers. Then come the individual trials, followed by the pairs challenges. Finally, if you and Ember win the Grand Championships…You will face the Bond Breaker.”

“Isn’t that where Ember’s other partner… died?”

I hesitate. I don’t want to scare her, but I can’t lie to her either. Ember or one of the other pets must have already told her what happened. “Yes, Fifi died there. But don’t let that trouble you. Ember won’t let you die. He was… confused last year, but this time he knows better, and I’ve trained you both more thoroughly.” I can see her collar flash in the dark with anxiety.

I get out of bed, take down the forcefield around her little bed and bring her into my own. I caress her naked body trying to calm her. “You’ve nothing to fear, Ash,” I murmur. “Just do as I say, and remember what you’ve learned in your training with me.”

I slip my fingers between her legs and begin stroking her, rubbing away all of her worries.