Chapter 8
Vaelor
The female—Mara—confused him. Her delicate frame was the complete opposite of her inner core and determination.
She pushed herself to keep up with him. Granted, he did slow for her.
His protective instincts and honor as a warrior would not let him leave her behind.
Besides, he wouldn’t be able to win without getting her to the end.
He knew he would be able to set up their tents quicker without her and told her to sit by the fire to warm herself.
What he didn’t expect was this strange feeling he got when he noticed the other human—a male—was talking to her.
Talking wasn’t the issue. It was the way that the male subtly moved closer and closer until they were almost touching.
It took all his self-restraint to keep from tearing the male apart.
No one should ever be that close to Mara.
Vaelor kept himself busy putting up the tents, though it didn’t take that long. While he did that, he listened to the conversation, taking in all the information that the male named Blaine told Mara.
He dismissed the names of his opponents as non-consequential, but he carefully observes them while their focus is on Mara and Blaine.
The Cyborg sat absolutely still. His eyes were open but seemed blank. It was odd and chilling. It occurred to Vaelor that the male… creature… The machine was probably saving his energy. Where other beings sleep, the Cyborg has to power down somehow to recharge.
The Rasilian and Slurchan, who have not shown up yet, were clearly lost. The two Bestials, though not partners, were sharing a tent.
The sounds coming from that direction made it clear that they were sharing sex.
That would be a distraction. Especially since neither one of their actual game partners, the Aquatic and the Felon, looked particularly happy about it.
The two females were trying to gain the attention of the other two males at the campfire.
A buzzing and whirling sound made him turn. A hovering camera drone was right at his head. He swatted it away. Turning back to the campfire, he tensed.
Blaine offered Mara food. On his planet, a male fed a female as part of a courting ritual. The male placed one of his hands on her lower back. He couldn’t keep in the growl.
“The female has her own food rations.”
Mara looked angry at his interruption. Was she interested in this puny male? He almost growled again when she smiled at the male.
“He’s right. I have my own food rations. I don’t want to take yours. Thank you for the offer. Besides, I am exhausted and want to get some rest.”
He was admiring her form as she walked away. Mara stopped. It occurred to him that she didn’t know which one was hers.
“The left one is yours.”
She nodded her head. There was a slight silence that fell between them.
“Thanks for setting up the tents. What time do we leave tomorrow?”
“Just before sunrise.”
“I’ll be ready.”
For one crazy moment, he wanted to follow her into the tent. He wanted to touch her skin to see if it was as soft and smooth as it appeared. Tasting her would be his next priority. What did she taste like? Sweet he bet. Those thoughts were unexpected. He needed to push them aside.
He was about to take a run around the camp to ensure safety when he heard her voice from inside the tent.
“I miss you, Daddy. I’ll come home soon.”
The words were soft, barely louder than the wind slipping through the frozen trees.
Vaelor knew none of the players had functioning communicators.
Whatever message she meant to send wasn’t traveling through technology.
She was offering it to the vast silence of the world itself, trusting the universe to carry it where she could not.
It struck him harder than it should have.
Why would a male allow his daughter to come here?
The thought came sharp and unfiltered. This was no place for sentiment, no place for hope.
It was brutal, unforgiving, designed to break even seasoned warriors.
A father should have come himself—or stopped her from ever setting foot in the Games.
Sending a soft female into this kind of danger felt reckless. Unforgivable.
Yet the quiet ache in her voice made one thing painfully clear. Mara loved her father deeply. Enough to risk everything.
Vaelor pushed the thought aside. Her family, her choices—none of it was his concern. He had survived by drawing clear lines, and this was one he should not cross.
He moved away from the tents, navigating the frozen rocks and the twisted, ice-laced trees that formed a sparse, wooded stretch of terrain. His steps were silent, practiced. That was when he saw a shadow shifting near the camp’s edge, too deliberate to be the wind.
At first, he dismissed it. Many competitors preferred the cover of the environment rather than using the waste bags provided in their survival packs. But the figure wasn’t moving away from camp.
It was moving toward the camp—toward Mara’s tent.
Alarm snapped through him, sharp and instinctive. He altered his path without hesitation, angling toward the intruder. Whoever it was kept to the shadows—careful, experienced. Smart.
The figure moved quietly and purposefully. With intent. Then, the figure stepped on a thin ice patch.
The crack split the silence.
The intruder froze, then bolted, taking off in the opposite direction. Vaelor’s muscles tensed, every instinct screaming to pursue, to eliminate the threat before it could return.
But he stopped.
Giving chase would leave Mara alone and vulnerable.
He turned back, eyes scanning the darkness, positioning himself between Mara’s tent and the open terrain. She had no idea how close danger had come. No idea how exposed she truly was.
Whether he wanted it or not, her safety now rested on his shoulders.
And that realization unsettled him. This wasn’t what he expected, but he would take the responsibility for her, at least until they reach the final challenge.