Chapter 26 - Ayden #2
Sam is still curled on the ground, arms wrapped around her legs, face hidden.
Noviosk and I are both trembling with the aftershocks, muscles still frozen from the whip.
I start wondering what Danuk plans to do with us—but I don’t get to wonder long.
The master of the arena turns to his guards, looking satisfied, like he’s just closed a sweet deal.
“Take these three to the holding cells for the night!” he orders. “Give them a proper meal… after all, it’ll be their last.”
He punctuates the line with a predatory grin, then turns his back on us without another glance.
Two guards come over and untie me roughly. My arms drop limp at my sides, and I nearly collapse.
Noviosk isn’t faring much better.
They shove us down a narrow, dark corridor without a word. We walk in silence, tension hanging over us like smoke.
Eventually, we stop at a heavy door. One of the guards unlocks it with a palm scan. The door hisses open to reveal two small cells, side by side, separated by a wall. That’s it. No frills.
“Srebat in the first cell!” one guard barks.
Inside: two bunk beds, a sink, and a bucket. Cozy.
“The two Humans in the other one!”
Sam gets pushed inside. Then they nod at me. I step in after her. The door slams shut behind us with a cold metallic clang.
The guards walk off, leaving the three of us alone, dazed and hurting.
Lucky us—Danuk actually chose to leave Sam with us.
No doubt that if she’d been sent back to the warehouse, her “reward” for the day wouldn’t have made it till morning.
At least here, she’s safe.
I stay standing for a moment, leaning against the wall, breathing hard. Sam’s sitting on the lower bunk, head hanging low. She doesn’t say a word. I walk over slowly, then crouch in front of her.
“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” I whisper. “For what happened out there. I couldn’t—”
“Don’t,” she cuts me off. “Didn’t you get it? That whole game of his had a scripted ending. No matter how many hits you or Nov took. It was always going to end with one of you breaking. That was the finale. The only thing I regret is not realizing it sooner. You both would’ve suffered a lot less.”
She lifts her head. Her eyes are red, but dry. She pauses, then adds more softly,
“Thank you both for trying to protect me… Nov, did you hear that?”
“Yes. No need to thank me. A Srebat is strong. A Srebat doesn’t scream. I didn’t do it for you.”
Sam blinks, caught off guard. She glances at me, half amused, half exasperated.
“Uh… right. Okay then,” she says with a shrug.
After a few minutes to catch our breath, I head toward the tiny sink built into the wall. I turn the faucet and let the water run slowly. I gulp down several mouthfuls, then splash some on my face. The sensation is both painful and soothing.
My skin, burned and cracked from the sun, flinches at the contrast. I shiver. Then I cup my hands under the cool stream and splash water over my body. My torso and arms are covered in red marks, both from the sun and the whip.
I grab the coarse towel left nearby, soak it, and start wiping down my arms, neck, and shoulders. I wince with each pass, but I keep going. I want the sweat and grime off.
Behind me, Sam doesn’t say anything. But I can feel her watching. When I’m done, I dry my hands and turn around, offering her the cloth.
“I already cleaned up in the lab before they dragged me to the arena,” she says with a small smile.
The guards come back to bring us a pitiful excuse for a meal: some synthetic protein paste, a bit of water, and a bruised fruit. After everything we’ve been through, it might as well be a feast. We eat in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Once the trays are taken away, the cell dims to nighttime lighting—soft, almost gentle.
Our bodies are wrecked, but our minds are still spinning too fast to sleep. I can’t help myself.
“Noviosk?”
“Human?” he replies from the other cell, his voice muffled by the wall.
“What do you think Danuk’s planning for tomorrow?”
Silence. Then:
“How would I know? If tonight was just the appetizer, tomorrow’s the bloodbath. He wants a show. And the best shows are brutal.”
I swallow hard, staring into the darkness.
“If your plan involves us getting out of here alive,” he says dryly, “you better start working on it soon.”
“I’m on it. Trust me,” I say, trying to sound cocky.
He lets out a low grunt. Might’ve been a laugh. Might’ve been a sigh. Hard to tell with Noviosk.
I lie down slowly on the lower bunk, every muscle aching, skin tight and raw from the day.
A few minutes later, Sam slips off her dress and quietly climbs in beside me. She presses gently against my side, aware that just breathing hurts.
I wrap one arm around her, and she rests her head on my shoulder, hand on my chest—like she always does.
I run my fingers through her hair gently. She looks up at me, her gaze full of worry.
“We’re going to make it,” I murmur before brushing her lips with mine—soft, featherlight.
Our kiss is tender, unhurried. Nothing more.
My lips, cracked from the sun, can barely handle the contact. And even though my body stirs from her nearness, I know there's no way we’re going any further tonight.
Not with Noviosk just a few feet away. Not with my back on fire. Not with guilt still gnawing at my gut.
So I just pull her closer. She curls against me, her breathing gradually syncing with mine. And in that quiet embrace, we finally slip into a fragile, but healing, sleep.