Chapter 7 #4
His words hung in the room that had turned instantly quiet.
All eyes swung to Garen, who stood frozen, his gaze fixed on Kell.
Hatred showed through his eyes. Because there was really only one possible response, Kell handed his weapon to the crewmember standing closest to him.
He kept his eyes on Garen for any sudden movement as he worked the fastenings of his tunic.
While he didn’t trust Garen not to do something wholly stupid like trying to shoot Kell, the die had been cast. No one could answer a challenge by such a sneaky attack.
Even if Garen killed him, no member of the crew would follow him after that.
Still, Kell didn’t want to end up dying by overestimating Garen’s rationality.
After long moments of silence, Garen finally began taking off his own uniform.
Combat on the bridge would be tricky. There wasn’t a lot of open space and of course everything they might conceivably land on while grappling with each other could cause trouble with the ship’s navigation and stability.
The rules of engagement, however, left them no choice.
This wasn’t going to be some civilized contest arranged in the perfect venue.
The fight needed to happen right now and right here.
“Lock down the controls,” he barked out to the bridge crew that still remained at their stations.
When those males looked to Garen as the one they still followed, he nodded curtly. “Do it and get out of the way.”
As he shed each article of clothing, Kell’s civility went with it.
For all its martial meaning, the uniform was what tethered him to the duty prescribed by the females of his race.
His naked skin represented the primal part of him and the animal need to tear Garen apart grew with the exposure of his body.
When he stood completely nude, he felt not vulnerable, but powerful.
He snarled at his opponent, impatient for the contest to begin.
He had to win, not just to protect his crew or to return to his mate and her children, but for his beautiful pet.
If Kell failed, the human would surely die.
If Garen didn’t rip the boy apart, Wid would probably kill himself.
Even though Kell hadn’t asked for or even wanted his pet, the boy was part of his life now and he’d fight to the death to defend him.
When Garen tossed away the last of his clothing, Kell lunged for him.
He had always preferred being on the offensive in training exercises and this deadly contest was no different.
His opponent stood ready for him, however, and braced against the assault.
Kell grappled with the younger male, trying to push him off balance.
Garen gripped Kell with equal force and for the first long moments of the fight, they pushed ineffectually at each other.
Kell changed tactics and tilted them both to one side, causing Garen to crash against the nearest console.
The male grunted at the impact, yet kept his punishing hold on Kell.
Then Garen reversed the tactic, and this time when they careened against a chair, Kell slipped.
But even as he went down, he held tight to Garen and brought him down too.
They wrestled around the floor, each trying to pin the other.
Kell dug his fingers into as much of Garen’s flesh as he could, reaching for soft parts of the body like eyes and the groin.
Personal combat had no rules. The goal was to win and at any cost. Garen managed to land a vicious blow to Kell’s nose.
Blood gushed down into his open mouth, from which harsh pants blew.
The taste of his own vulnerability only spurred him on, as did the roars of encouragement emanating from the males who watched.
It didn’t matter that some of it was meant for Garen.
Kell stole the energy around him and used it to fuel his attack.
Being smaller than the creatures around him gave Wid the chance to watch the fight from underneath the waving arms of the ship’s crewmembers standing in front of him.
They’d kept him behind them when they’d first reached the bridge, an annoying effort to protect him, he supposed.
Now there was no danger, not to him. Either Kell would win and Wid would be relatively safe, or the captain would lose to his treacherous first officer.
In which case, Wid held a weapon that would take him out of the sadistic alien’s reach forever.
His stomach churned at the notion of ending his own life, but better dead by his own hand, quickly and cleanly, than be tortured to death.
If he hadn’t been sure of his fate before, he’d seen it in the second when Garen’s gaze had landed on him.
There wouldn’t be any more sadistic games, just brutal murder.
Hope was not yet lost. Kell fought like a madman.
Both contestants did, their large naked bodies coated in sweat as they pounded each other with primitive brutality.
Wid had seen Kell naked before, many times, of course, and had mapped every inch of the alien body with his fingers, and yet he’d never appreciated how truly big and powerful the alien was.
Every muscle bulged against his skin, radiating unbridled power.
Wid understood for the first time how well all of that had been reined in when Kell had touched him.
And both males were alarmingly erect, their cocks hard and swinging with each twist of their bodies.
Useless clubs that only served to bang together in the heat of the battle.
Punishing blows landed on each fighter without respite.
Wid winced as blood spewed from Kell’s nose, but the captain didn’t even flinch.
He kept on grappling for dominance as the two males wrestled between the captain’s chair and the navigation console.
With all the noise the spectators made, it was hard to hear any from the combatants.
A loud roar burst out, however, as Garen kicked Kell with both feet.
Kell flew off his opponent and landed on his back.
Wid surged forward on instinct, even though there was nowhere for him to go and nothing he could do to help.
Kell didn’t need him anyway. The alien sprang to his feet a split second later and caught Garen with a roundhouse kick as the other alien charged him.
Garen pinwheeled from the blow and crashed onto the raised dais where the captain’s chair stood.
He fell awkwardly with his head over the far edge.
Before he could regain his feet or even roll over to the floor, Kell leaped on top of him.
The captain’s hand grabbed a fistful of Garen’s hair and wrenched Garen’s head farther back.
Kell wrapped his other hand around the male’s neck while he knelt on his chest.
The roars and growls of the aliens reached a fevered pitch.
It was impossible for Wid to distinguish who made which noise, but Kell’s mouth gaped wide and he pressed his advantage.
His lips pulled back in a vicious snarl as he pushed and pulled and twisted.
Whatever sound Garen made, Wid would never know.
He couldn’t see the alien’s face now that they were on the floor.
There were too many legs blocking his way.
It was enough that he could see Kell, though.
Wid knew the moment when his master had won the contest. All the noise stopped in an instant and Kell’s mouth clamped shut.
The alien stayed in his position on top of Garen for a moment or two, staring down at his opponent’s body.
His chest heaved with his harsh breaths, sweat and blood trickled down from his nose and every other place Garen had managed to scratch and bite.
Finally, Kell shoved himself off the body and stood on firm legs.
He cast a glance around the bridge, eyeing his crew.
Then he threw up his arms and bellowed in a victory cry that the others soon joined in.
Even Wid lent his voice to the celebration, relief that he wouldn’t have to use his weapon after all.
The thought that perhaps he should nevertheless proved a fleeting one, easily dismissed.
He didn’t want to die and while he hadn’t and wouldn’t have chosen to be an alien’s sex slave, he wasn’t particularly upset that he remained Kell’s pet.
It fact, knowing he’d once again be in Kell’s embrace sent a thrill through him.
Weird and a little disturbing, yet he couldn’t deny the truth of it.