Lois
So, it turns out, because Az is a prince, he can not only get away with ordering everyone out of a very public room so we can have sex, but also gripping onto parts of an antique breeding bench so hard while doing said fucking, that he bends metal.
I honestly don’t think I’m going to be able to show my face at that museum ever again.
Az seemed completely unfazed, though. He’d pulled my panties back in place, unbuckled me from the restraints, and chuckled when my legs were a little wobbly after he’d put me back on my feet.
Before letting anyone back into the room, he’d found the cleaning bot stored in a recess in the wall and programmed it to clean up the…
evidence on the floor. But there wasn’t much he could do about the bent frame where the burgundy curtain now hangs at a very strange angle.
‘That’s solid metal. How did you-’
‘I was holding myself back,’ was all he’d said before using his personal comms to arrange a donation of a large sum of money to the museum.
He did apologize to Lazzy as we left. Though, I’m not so sure you can call it a proper apology if you look so smug while doing it?
Mind you, what do I know? He apologized to my pussy for being so rough with it practically all night long, and I’m not complaining.
I’m pretty tired the next morning, and Az lets me sleep in while he and the others are up early for their training game with the Capital team, but it doesn’t take long before Zek is getting me up, washed, dressed, and fed, and ushering me out the door like a mom on the morning school run.
* * *
The Lords’ Gallery here at the drakball arena is as plush and inviting as you’d expect any kind of executive viewing box at a major sporting venue to be. Not that I’d been in any of those back on Earth.
The whole upper ring around the stadium is dedicated to the Lords, Ladies, Royals, and God knows who else they normally allow up here.
The game-facing wall is all glass, looking down into the arena, above the lower tiers of the average spectators. Those are all empty right now, of course, since this is just a friendly training exercise between two teams.
Every now and again, embedded into the glass is a TV-type screen, currently switching between clips of the Capital team’s victorious moments, and an image of what I can only assume is their team logo – a simplified drak shape in gold on a background of red, the two heads parted and a crown in the middle.
The repeating reel of past game video clips feature the guy Az and I had met back at the Xaviann Goddess temple – Zyre.
Some show him in slow-motion, leaping from the back of his drak, or thrusting his fist into the air and yelling in victory while blood trickles down his face in two streaks like he’s some kind of Viking warrior or something.
On the opposite side of the room is a bar that stretches along the entirety of the wall.
Many staff are bustling about, wiping, polishing, and doing inventory of their supplies.
I do, however, spot a couple of female staff members with their elbows propped on the bar’s surface, chins resting on their hands as they watch the slideshow of Zyre clips, sighing and giggling to one another.
“I will go to check for human-safe beverages,” Zek tells me before disappearing to go and boss around the bar staff.
With DJ bobbing up and down beside me – quietly, for once – I stand there a moment, taking it all in; the long seating arrangements positioned in front of the glass wall to watch the game, the floating chandeliers gently glowing close to the golden ceiling every twenty feet or so.
I decide to sit, but as soon as my butt hits one of the large, ruby-red couches, I hear a male voice say, “Ah, and you must be one of the humans from the Northern Principality.”
Turning, I see an older Xaviann gentleman walking toward me, sharply dressed, and a streak of white a little off-center at his hairline.
He smiles at me as he approaches, and I see one of his fangs is replaced by that precious stone they have here – the one that looks like a glowing opal.
“Senator Glex at your service,” he says, bowing before he seats himself. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Suddenly, a flood of pressure hits my brain like a wave.
“Oh, uh, Lois,” I provide, bowing now, too – like an awkward idiot.
Glex gives me an odd look, and before I can spiral into thoughts of blowing this mission before it even starts, I blurt, “I met your son… the other day… at the uh…temple-thing…”
Good God, Lois, have you forgotten how to talk to people?! Did Az fuck the ability to hold a conversation clean out of your brain?
Glex offers a weak smile, briefly glancing toward the glass in front of us. “Zyre is such an… entertaining asset to the family.”
That… was a weird thing to say about your own son.
“And how are you enjoying your time here on Xaavia, Lady Lois?” he asks, blindly waving at a passing staff member to bring him something to drink.
Gee, Mr Senator, I’d enjoy it a whole lot more if you could talk to the Intergalactic Peacetime Authorities for me to help end human trafficking and slavery!
No. Better not open with that.
“I love it!” I say brightly, plastering on a big smile. “I hope to stay here forever!”
I’m not exploited and forced into any kind of servitude here, unlike other abducted humans! Which, by the way, Mr-Important-Senator-Man, you could help with, if-
Be cool, Lois. C’mon now.
I shift in my seat and tuck my hair behind my ear. “I’m really enjoying all the new experiences I’m having here-”
Like getting fucked in a museum.
“And today is my very first time experiencing drakball,” I say, hoping the heat in my cheeks isn’t a blooming blush across my face. “Would you be so kind as to explain the game to me?”
I bat my eyelashes.
Glex’s whole face lights up.
“Of course, my dear,” he chuckles in a pleased, condescending way that tells me he relishes any opportunity to feel superior. Maybe I could use that.
Glex leans forward and presses buttons I didn’t know were there on the low, round coffee table in front of us.
The polished dark wood of the table splits in a circle at the center as a console rises with a quiet woosh.
Along the inside of the console are multiple pairs of those little neuro patches these guys use in their spicy simulators.
“You know, it was a family member of mine that first invested in this technology,” Glex says, holding up one of the neuro patches before pressing it to his temple, making the little light on the thing turn electric blue.
I raise my brows and nod as if impressed, following suit by attaching my own patches.
A server arrives with his drink, but Glex ignores the male in favor of ushering me to stand and come closer to the glass overlooking the arena with him.
The playing ‘field’ – if you can call it that – is absolutely enormous.
Bigger than any sports arena I’ve ever seen.
There are hoops of various sizes floating at different heights above the ground, and the ground itself isn’t turfed in lush green grass – real or artificial.
Instead, the floor of the playing space looks kind of like…
an oil spill on asphalt. It’s mainly a dark gray, but there’s an undulating sheen to it like a rainbow.
The surface itself almost looks like it’s pulsing, causing the oil-slick rainbow to move along with it. “What is that?” I hear myself ask.
“Oh, that?” Glex chuckles. “Those are millions of tiny terrain cells. They are programmed by each team’s Arena Master to form the physical structures, obstacles, or creatures their opponents will encounter.
Each terrain cell interlocks together to create the framework of the game, then these,” he says, tapping at one of his neuro patches, “overlay a holographic image so that the cells look like a tree, or a cliff face, or a pack of attacking long-toothed hounds,” Glex explains, laughing to himself again.
“That was a good play from Pax before he came over to our team, I must admit.”
“Pax?” I say, smiling, seeing perhaps another route to forming a connection with this guy.
“I know him.” The words rush out of my mouth before I can fully think them through.
I only know Pax because Az kind of forced him to commit a crime for my benefit.
“I mean… I’ve heard Az talk about him and how he misses having him on the team. ”
Senator Glex gives me an odd, knowing smile, but I chalk it up to sporting rivalry vibes since the Capital did poach him from Az’s team.
“So…” I start, turning back toward the arena, trying to move the conversation along. “The game is played in a holographic environment, and the terrain cells are what make the hologram solid?” I ask, clarifying.
“Exactly! Yes!” Glex chortles in a tone that was the epitome of condescension, and I can’t figure out if he’s surprised I’m understanding because I’m human, or because I’m a woman.
Maybe it’s just the double-whammy of being both that’s the most damning in his mind?
“Each Arena Master will control half the playing space to start with. The main aim of the game is to find the hidden drakballs and get them through the advantage hoops.”
Seems simple enough.
“You see, each time a ball goes through a hoop, that team is given an advantage.”
“Aptly named,” I quip, quickly thanking Zek as he quietly brings me a drink.
When I turn back to face Glex, he looks unamused, and I realize I’m going to need to keep up this whole ‘fawning over your superior knowledge’ bit if this guy is ever going to listen to a single word I have to say about human trafficking.
“What kind of advantages can they earn?” I ask, trying to sound like I’m hanging on every word this wise and wonderful male deigns to bestow upon me.
He looks pleased, so it must be working.
“Oh, a variety of things. The players start without their draks, and placing a ball through a hoop could release one for them to use. It can also give them the advantage of more arena space for their Arena Master to control, or the opportunity to unleash all manner of unruly beasts or packs of animals for the opposing team to fight off and kill.”
I swallow a sip of the fruity drink Zek had brought me. “But the animals aren’t real, right? They’re holograms and those cell-thingies. They’re not killing real animals for sport?”
“Good Goddesses, no,” Glex says, shaking his head.
“My dear, we are a civilized society. You can put any notion of barbaric practices behind you now that you are here,” he says, chortling into his own glass before adding, “No, as Xavianns, we have a level of sophistication and culture that would prohibit such a cruelty.”
Ah, okay. Mr High-And-Mighty has a seriously deep-rooted superiority complex. Got it.
“Besides,” he continues, “using real animals would mean keeping and caring for the creatures. Think of the resources needed – and the mess!”
I feign a smile and spot a tentative thread I might be able to pull at.
“Your people are very kind and caring, that’s for certain,” I tell him, nodding into my drink. “I can’t think of any other species who would do so much for others – just as yours has done for my friends and me.”
He smiles proudly as if he had been the one to take us in and care for us. “Indeed,” he agrees. “You are lucky to have been rescued by a people that reaches out with a kind hand to the less civilized.”
Oh, barf.
Ignoring the added helping of a savior complex on top of an already very healthy serving of feelings of superiority, I decide to continue following that thread.
“Exactly!” I say, taking the opportunity to lightly touch Glex’s arm – a move that definitely didn’t go unnoticed. “See, I just knew you were going to be kind and caring enough to help me with a very important cause.”
Glex is still wearing an expression of confusion as he stares at the same spot on his arm where I’d touched him, like he can’t figure out what just happened. “Hm?” he says, absentmindedly.
Ducking my head, I try to get his attention. “The humans,” I explain. “The ones that are abducted from Earth, just like me. There’s more of us, and-”
“Oh, look! Here they come!” Glex interrupts, excitedly tapping the glass with his pointer finger. “Come, sit back down, my dear. You’ll be able to see everything on the screens. You are in for a real treat even if it is a training game!” He says, urging me back to the red velvet couch.
Ah, shit. Have I lost him on this already?! I barely got started!
Defeated, I plop my butt on the seating and down the rest of my drink.
The TV screen glass in front of me shows a split-screen of two entrance tunnels, both teams striding slowly out into the arena, their heads held high.
And, I have to admit, Az looks so fucking hot.
He’s shirtless apart from a piece of leather armor on one shoulder, wrist braces, and this glowing blue stone stuck in the middle of his chest like a gaudy pendant from a necklace with no chain.
His get-up kind of makes me think of a gladiator – and I guess he is, in a sense, since this is violence for entertainment.
I’d completely forgotten DJ was even here until she started playing AC/DC’s ‘Thunderstruck’ quite loudly, the electric guitar intro being the perfect soundtrack for a badass sporting entrance.
“What in the name of The Four is that?!” Glex asks, his hands over his ears as he grimaces at my little DJ.
“Uh, nothing!” I say, hurrying to touch the cool surface of DJ, silencing her Earth music just as we get to the rhythmic drum beat. “My comms unit is a little quirky, is all.”
“You should get that fixed,” Glex says, holding up his empty glass to signal to a server that he wants more without even looking or saying a single thing to the staff member.
“So, you see,” he says, gesturing back to the arena outside and the screens on the glass, “the two teams meet in the center, shake hands, and then return to their half.
The Arena Masters will then start the play by revealing their chosen terrain.
I watch the screens as both teams’ First Drak Riders, Az and Zyre, shake hands with serious looks on their faces. When they retreat to their half, there’s a countdown on the screens, which ends with a loud starting siren.
And that’s when the whole arena in front of me changes.