Chapter 25 Trill
TRILL
Two hours. Two fucking hours to save the male my mate loved more than life itself.
I pressed my palm against the schedule board, feeling the rough metal bite into my skin.
Around me, Kilo's stronghold buzzed with anticipation—guards sharpening weapons, betting pools forming, the air thick with bloodlust and excitement.
They had no idea their star attraction was about to slip through their fingers.
"Admiring your handiwork?"
Kilo's voice made my spine lock. I turned, keeping my expression neutral while my beast clawed at the inside of my ribs. "Ensuring adequate security. The Silver Beast will draw attention."
"Indeed he will." Kilo's claws traced the air near my throat—not touching, but close enough to make his point. "Funny thing about your prize catch, Trill. He's recovering faster than he should."
Shit. The healing salve I'd been sneaking him—had someone noticed?
"Shura affects everyone differently," I said. "His beast form might be more resistant."
"Might be." Kilo's smile was all teeth. "Or someone's been helping him."
My heart hammered against my ribs, but I held his stare. "You suspect sabotage?"
"I suspect many things." His hand fell to my shoulder, claws pricking through fabric to skin. "Which is why you're going to prepare him personally. Make sure he knows death is his only escape."
Blood trickled down my collarbone where his claws had broken skin. The metallic scent made my mouth water—not hunger, but the bone-deep need to fight, to tear, to protect what was mine.
Roqs. My mate. Who would come for Zirc no matter the cost.
"I'll make it clear," I said.
"You will. And Trill?" Kilo leaned close, his breath hot against my ear. "I'll be watching. Every word. Every move."
Fuck.
The detention level reeked of piss and fear. Zirc's cell sat at the end, isolated from the other prisoners. I could hear his labored breathing before I saw him—harsh, rattling, like something was slowly drowning him from the inside.
When I rounded the corner, my steps faltered.
He looked like death walking. Crystal growths covered half his torso now, turning fur and skin into glittering stone. His left arm hung useless, completely petrified. But his eyes... those silver eyes burned with rage that could melt steel.
"Come to gloat?" His voice was raw gravel.
I activated the privacy screen—legitimate security, but it would muffle our voices. "I've come to prepare you." Then, dropping to barely a whisper: "For what's coming."
His nostrils flared. Even poisoned, his beast could scent the conflict rolling off me in waves.
"The pit fight's in two hours." I moved closer, pretending to inspect his restraints. "You'll face their champion—pumped full of stimulants and steroids. Goes for the throat first. Duck left, come up under his guard."
Confusion flickered across his features. "Why—"
Time to give him a dose of reality.
"Because I'm mated to Roqs!"
The words hit him like a physical blow. He went perfectly still, processing not just what I'd said but everything it meant. The aid I'd been giving him. The message I'd risked my life to send.
"You," he gritted. I could see it in his eyes. He, and interestingly his beast, wanted to maim me.
I nodded, then resumed my normal voice for the surveillance. "Kilo expects entertainment before you die. Consider your options carefully."
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. I stepped back as Roan appeared, his massive frame blocking most of the light.
"Kilo wants you. Now."
Kilo waited in his office with Nialla draped across a chair like a predator at rest. The sight of her made my skin crawl—I could smell her arousal, thick and cloying, as she watched me enter.
"Sit." Kilo gestured to the chair across from his desk. "We need to discuss your future."
I sat like the slave I was, cataloging exits. Two doors, one window with a hundred-foot drop. Not great odds, but manageable if things went sideways.
"I've been reviewing your service record," Kilo continued. "Impressive loyalty. Until recently."
Here it comes.
"The Silver Beast's capture was... convenient. Almost too convenient." Nialla leaned forward, her pupils dilated with excitement. "Raises questions about motivation. Why not kill him on the spot? More glory and favors would have been granted to you."
"I serve the cause," I said simply.
"Do you?" Nialla's tongue darted out, wetting her lips. "Because I've been researching your background. Your family history. Very illuminating."
Ice flooded my veins. If they'd found the truth about my White Tribe bloodline...
"Tell me, Trill—when did you learn about your heritage?"
The question shattered my composure like a hammer blow. They knew. Somehow, they'd uncovered the secret that had shaped my entire existence.
"One of the old slaves told me," I said, choosing partial truth over complete exposure.
"And you thought you could hide it?" Kilo's disappointment felt genuine. "White Tribe bloodlines are too valuable to waste."
Wait. This wasn't the accusation I'd expected.
"We know about White Tribe genetics. Enhanced empathy, supernatural bonding abilities." Kilo moved around the desk, looming over me. "Did you think we captured the Silver Beast by accident?"
Understanding crashed over me like ice water. They hadn't discovered my divided loyalties—they'd orchestrated them. Everything. The meeting with Roqs, my growing conscience. None of it had been a real choice. Did they know Roqs was my fated mate?
"You've been playing me."
"We've been utilizing your talents." Kilo's smile was cruel satisfaction. "Your genetics make you perfect for deep cover. Enhanced empathy lets you form genuine connections with targets."
Nialla laughed, sharp and cutting. "Did you believe we'd trust White Tribe blood without ensuring complete loyalty? Every choice you thought was yours—carefully guided to serve our purposes."
I made sure to stay still. Any weakness and they'd pounce on it. I knew I was nothing but a tool, manipulated by masters who understood my psychology better than I did.
But even as despair threatened to drown me, defiance sparked to life. They might have shaped my circumstances, but they couldn't control my choices. Not completely.
"The Silver Beast," I managed. "Part of the plan?"
"Of course. We needed someone close to Silver Tribe leadership." Kilo leaned closer, breath hot against my face. "Who better than the Alpha's cherished but ill-fated mate? We all know how the Alpha is desperate for him. That is why we wanted to capture Zirc for months."
"You want the Silver Beast to betray Roqs. But why the Silver Tribe?"
Kilo smiled, sending shivers down my spine. I belatedly realized I should not have asked that question. Not good when a slave questions his master. Instead of blood spilled on the floor, Kilo continued as if nothing happened. What he said next turned my blood to ice.
"The Silver Tribe is keeping a secret that will question the very foundation of our society.
But," he placed a hand on the table, pressing me further in, his chest to my back.
Nialla licked her lips, pupils dilated. "We want you to complete your mission.
The Silver Beast fights and dies in our pit.
Roqs comes for revenge. And you deliver him into our hands. "
Bait. Zirc was bait to trap Roqs. And I was the key to making it work.
"What if I refuse?"
Nialla's smile was all malice. "Then you join the beast in the pit. I'm sure our audience would enjoy watching you and the Silver Beast tear each other apart."
The threat hung between us, heavy with implication. They would force me to fight Zirc for entertainment, make us kill each other while crowds cheered.
"Cooperation has rewards," Kilo continued. "Complete this mission, and you'll have full status in our organization. Power, wealth, influence."
What he didn't say: fail and I die. As if I'd reached an expiration date.
I nodded slowly, as if accepting the assignment. Inside, my mind raced. They thought they controlled me completely, but they'd made one crucial error.
They'd told me the truth.
"I understand," I said, injecting resignation into my voice. "When do you expect Roqs?"
"Tomorrow, most likely. Give or take two or three days. We know he won't be able to resist rescuing him." Kilo returned to his chair, satisfied with my apparent compliance. "We'll be ready."
"And until then?"
"Continue your duties. Prepare the beast for his final performance."
I stood, offering respectful nods. "I won't disappoint you."
"See that you don't," Nialla purred. "I'd hate to lose such a valuable asset."
Knowledge was power. Now that I understood their game, I could play by my own rules.
The communications center occupied a converted storage room near the northern wall. I nodded to the technician on duty—a nervous young one who spent his time monitoring transmissions.
"Priority message," I said, settling at an encoding station. "Kilo's orders."
He didn't question my authority. I activated the equipment, fingers flying across controls with practiced efficiency. The message was brief, coded:
Tomorrow dawn + 2. Trap confirmed. Three exits—north service tunnel, main gate, emergency shaft. Bring minimal force. Signal on execution.
I buried it in routine supply data, disguising it as mundane logistics. To casual observers, standard administrative traffic.
The real challenge was delivery. I pulled up the courier manifest, scrolling until I found a drop point near the neutral zone. Close enough to the Orange Tundra for interception. I modified the manifest, adding my coded message to existing payload.
Not perfect. The message would take hours to reach its destination. But better than nothing.
"All set," I told the technician. "Standard delivery."
He nodded absently, already back to his monitoring. Perfect cover for treason.
The armory lay just off the main corridor. I signed out standard guard kit—shock baton, restraints, medical supplies. Nothing unusual.
Hidden in the medical kit was a small vial of concentrated healing compound. Military grade, designed for emergency treatment of crystal contamination. Enough to counteract Shura poisoning for several hours if administered correctly.
It wouldn't cure Zirc completely—the damage was too extensive. But it might give him the edge he needed to survive.
Back in the detention level, I approached Zirc's cell. He looked up, wariness and resentment warring in his expression. I activated the privacy screen again.
"Medical check," I announced for surveillance. "Standard procedure before tomorrow's event."
I knelt beside the bars, pulling out a scanner. Real equipment providing perfect cover. As I ran it over his crystallized arm, I palmed the vial, keeping it hidden from cameras.
"Contamination is extensive but stable," I said aloud. Then, bringing the scanner close to his throat, I whispered: "This will slow the poisoning. Give you a fighting chance."
"Why?" The question was barely shaped air.
"Because some things are worth the risk."
I slipped the vial into his hand with practiced smoothness, the exchange hidden by equipment bulk. To observers, routine medical checks on a valuable prisoner.
"Vitals stable," I announced, standing. "He should be functional tomorrow."
Zirc's hand closed around the hidden vial. "You..."
Words escaped Zirc. If our positions were reversed, I might have ended him to end my competition.
But his eyes held something new—not just hope, but trust. This was what separated me from him.
Though he'd become a mercenary, his word of honor, his loyalty, and most of all optimism, could unite enemies.
His Silver Beast was feared by many, but it was his manastian self that proved his worth.
No wonder Roqs would fight and wait for him.
He had firm belief in the power of fated mates.
Despite everything I'd done, despite my role in his capture, he was choosing to believe in my change of heart.
I couldn't let him down.
"Rest well," I said. "Tomorrow will be demanding."
"I'm looking forward to it," he replied, and for the first time since capture, I heard genuine steel in his voice.
I made my way back through the stronghold, past guards and administrators and all the other cogs in Kilo's machine. They saw me as one of them, trusted me as one of their own. The betrayal I was planning would shatter that trust completely.
But as I thought of Roqs somewhere in the darkness—his scent that called to my soul, the bond growing stronger despite distance—my cock stirred traitorously in my pants. Even now, even here in enemy territory, my body responded to thoughts of my mate.
I reached my quarters and locked the door, leaning against it as arousal hit me like a physical blow. The stress, the danger, the knowledge that tomorrow might be my last day alive.
I stripped quickly, my hand already moving to my aching cock. Roqs. Golden eyes that saw straight through my soul. The way his nostrils had flared when we first met, recognizing something in my scent that called to his beast.
"Fuck," I groaned, stroking myself with rough urgency.
I imagined his hands on me instead, those claws tracing down my chest, marking me as his.
The fantasy consumed me—Roqs claiming me properly, his teeth in my throat, his cock buried deep inside me while he growled possessive words against my skin.
His tail choking me. Punishing me for capturing his precious Zirc.
And Brynn. Sweet-smelling Brynn whispering in my ear—
I came hard and fast, biting my lip to muffle the sound. Cum spilled over my fingers as pleasure tore through me, leaving me shaking against the door.
For a moment, the fantasy felt real. For a moment, I wasn't trapped in this nightmare of manipulation and violence. I was simply a male aching for his mates, desperate to be claimed and held and protected.
But reality crashed back quickly. I cleaned myself up with mechanical efficiency, the brief respite over.
The coming days would bring blood and chaos, revelation and reckoning.
The pit would claim its victims, crowds would have their entertainment, and somewhere in the midst of it all, I would discover whether redemption was possible for someone like me.
Whether sacrifices could triumph over a lifetime of manipulation and lies.
Whether the male whose scent haunted my dreams would forgive me for the choices I'd made.
I was about to find out.
And gods help me, I was ready for whatever came next. Even if it killed me, I would see Roqs and Zirc safe. Even if it cost me everything.
Some things were worth dying for.
Some people were worth saving.
And this time, I would prove it.