Filthy Beginnings, page 3
part #3.50 of Ruthless Warlords Series
An uneasy silence filled the space.
Worse, the burn beneath her skin increased. She fiddled with the cuff on her wrist. Her throat and wrists bothered her the most. She had no idea why.
Her brother broke the quiet at last. “How are you?”
She forced a bright smile and gave her usual response. “Fine.”
Usually, unless the lights were on her, her handlers paid her little attention. As if they couldn’t fathom she had agency when they weren’t looking at her or she wasn’t following their commands. Still, it was smart not to take chances, and the truth would only hurt Luc anyway.
As if he read her thoughts, her brother leaned in close, his big body curling over hers as his breath whispered across her cheek. “I know this isn’t what we planned. I thought I’d have more time to gather funds—”
She brushed his words away with the flick of the wrist. “It will be fine.”
When they were young, he’d told her he’d become a great fighter and win enough prize money to buy her from the consortium.
Even early on, she’d known it was a pipe dream.
Consortium fighters were never allowed to earn such riches. It made them too independent. Plus, the consortium had invested too much in them to let either go. Ever. The one-time, lump sum Luc might have mustered to buy her would never equal what the company could earn from her over the long term as a prize attraction and brothel whore.
But she’d let Luc think she believed in his rosy future.
What was one more lie between them?
“Whatever you’re planning, don’t.” His voice dropped even lower. “I’m already working on which fighters can be bribed. It won’t take much work to ensure Kadon Stormhart is the winner of the tournament.”
“Don’t. It’s too dangerous.”
“So is ending up with the wrong kind of Alpha.”
“It will be fine.” Again, she smiled wide.
They both understood the fate of most tournament prizes. Most were claimed for only a short time by the Alpha who won the event. He used his untouched, virginal trophy until the shine wasn’t so bright, then tossed her aside—right back into the consortium’s clutches—where she was reabsorbed into the company. The prize was then quietly reassigned to a second-tier, seedy pleasure house on the outer planets. Desolate places said to cater to every fetish, where even the most down-on-his-luck gambler could spend a few coins and rule like a king. Or a losing fighter could feel like the victor against someone half his size.
Scarlett shivered. It was a hellish fate.
And not one she intended to experience.
But Luc had a different means of escape in mind for her than she did. “No one will suspect tampering.” He pretended to fix the strap of her dress so he could lean in close once more. “Stormhart is expected to win anyway.”
Big brothers. They always believed they knew what was best. “It’s too early to tell and too chancy to count on.”
“And running isn’t? You remember what happened last time.”
She looked away, the memory wrapping around her throat like a meaty hand.
But she was careful to steady her voice by the time she beckoned for her brother close. Nars and the rest of security might be off to the side sneaking an unsanctioned break while Egan dealt with other consortium business, but they could return at any time. “This guard is more reliable and willing to wait for payment until I’m settled. He said he could get hold of a tracker remover. He can also sneak me into the storage container on a shipping shuttle scheduled to depart from the dome during the main tournament.”
“Too unsafe and too good to be true. I won’t be able to be with you this time. They’ll have me at the tournament. You need to accept that my plan is best.”
He wasn’t wrong. The last time she’d tried this route, she’d been with Rose, Ebony, and Amber and the guard had brought two friends. They’d taken Luc’s money. Then, brought out the shock sticks and blackmail, advising Scarlett and her friends to comply with their plan to sample the goods then sell them to a brothel, or they’d suffer a worse fate when returned to the consortium as runaways. Only Luc’s emergence from his hiding place had saved them. Those guards’ bones scorched in the suns outside the dome now, but she, her friends, and Luc had been lucky not to get caught.
Which is why this time, she would take the risk alone—and then find her friends safe passage if she was successful.
It was a gamble, yes, but if she stayed, if she let fear rule, if she let the consortium win, she would never escape her mother’s fate.
“Kadon Stormhart is a good male.” Luc’s growled words brought her back from her dark thoughts.
“I know.”
“You could do far worse.”
“I know that too.” She grabbed her brother’s hand. “But I don’t want him. He’s not right for me.”
His jaw clenched in warning. “Scarlett—”
“Don’t.” They’d gone over this so many times before.
But Luc was almost as stubborn as she. “I spoke with him. He’ll take you not just as a prize, but as his prime omega. You’ll have security. Protection. He’s the only one I trust to keep his word.”
Her brother and Kadon had been fighting against each other in tournaments since they were old enough to walk. They’d started out as enemies: a scrappy consortium-owned attack dog and a privileged Brotherhood heir who were consistently one another’s top competition. In the end, though, respect, and even trust, developed between them.
The vise around her chest tightened. “He doesn’t want me for a prime omega.”
“He’d be lucky to have you.”
“He loves another.”
A beat of silence. “Love has no place in the Anarcheim. We make our choices for survival. You know that.” Luc spoke from experience.
“Maybe,” she conceded, “but as you’ve told me many times, eldest sons like Kadon Stormhart make prime omega contracts with other powerful Brotherhood families with impeccable bloodlines. In this, he has no more choice than we have. His path is already laid out for him. His father will not allow it.”
“That was before you were called up to be a prize. You know Kadon considers you a friend too, Scarlett. He’s happy to do this, even if his father opposes it. He wants you safe.”
“At his expense. Because we both know that if he somehow convinced his father to take me as his prime omega rather than as a short-term prize to be rutted and tossed aside, such a sacrifice would only place Kadon more under his father’s thumb. I don’t want that for him or any of us.”
“Damned it, Scarlet.” Luc’s voice rose, anger sharpening his tone. “There is no other choice. There never was.”
Her heart squeezed again. She knew how hard this was for Luc.
He was always looking out for her.
She wanted to do the same for him.
To give him what he needed.
But she was as helpless to do that for him as he was for her.
All the power was in the hands of others who pulled their strings and made them dance.
So here she and her brother sat, suffocating under the consortium’s rules and demands, trapped in cages even harder to escape than the one they had her in now.
“Stormhart is a good male, and I consider him a friend as well.” Luc wasn’t giving up. “You need to be practical.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d told her that.
“It’s a good plan.” Luc’s big hand gripped hers. “Plus, Stormhart’s father might not be as against the match as you believe. Apparently, he’s been pushing for Kadon to take a position within the consortium to better manage their families’ interests—and Brotherhood crime bosses usually get what they want.”
“Even more reason to resist. Anything involving the Brotherhood is perilous, and staying connected to the consortium is the last thing I want. This company has already taken too much from us both.”
Luc swallowed hard, his expression almost pleading. “But if we plot to have Stormhart win, he could stay and work for the consortium. You wouldn’t be taken away. We could see each other. Stay a family.”
The vise around her chest tightened.
Was Luc right? Should she agree to this plan? Settle, and be content within the consortium’s rules and its cage, just as her brother appeared willing to be?
Should she take surviving as a win and decide that was enough?
Everything inside her rebelled at the idea.
But maybe that was the recklessness of youth.
She had the ability to give Luc something he needed after all.
We could see each other. Stay a family.
And all she had to do was sacrifice her dreams and let the consortium win, using her as they wanted.
“Let me think on it.” She still had time. The guard she planned to bribe wasn’t going anywhere. “I can’t promise, but—”
“Time’s up! Back to it!” Nars’s shout made her jump. He was one of the more aggressive guards, always more than happy to throw his weight around.
But this time, Scarlett was almost relieved to have her brother go, and not just because she was worn down after their conversation.
She rubbed at the skin beneath her collar. Her conversation with Luc had momentarily distracted her from the sensations, but now they were back, stronger than before.
Her throat and wrists throbbed, hot to the touch. Her skin strangely sensitive, every muscle in her body alert, as if waiting for something monumental.
“Right.” Luc backed toward the exit, the flare of hope in his gaze making her stomach churn. “I’ll check in with you soon. They’re waiting for me to return to the arena.”
She suspected it wasn’t only the fighters who were waiting. A slew of omega groupies followed him everywhere and more than a few prizes-in-training cast him longing looks. He was an obvious favorite among the females, though he only had eyes for one.
On impulse, she reached out and seized his hand. “I know how hard this is for you and I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful. That I don’t see how much you’re willing to sacrifice. I-I know…” She paused. They’d never before spoken aloud about all he was giving up, about how he continued to pine in vain for a mate and a life outside the consortium that could never be. “I know that if things were different for you—”
“I’m fine.” His gaze snapped to hers. Now it was his turn to smile wide. To lie. “I’m a fighter. A warrior. That’s enough for me.”
“Right.” She squeezed his hand and let it drop.
What was one more lie between them?
He secured his scent mask back into place, a concealer all its own.
The spotlight in her display case flashed on. Its glare sent her brother hustling out before he got them both in trouble, but she suspected he’d been more than ready to leave.
She pulled the curtain closed and fought to bring her body back under control.
Swiveling, she raised her arms above her head and swayed her hips as the music swelled once more and another line formed, blurred figure after figure tromping by once more.
It should have been the same old, same old.
But there was a flush across her skin, that odd sense of anticipation, the folds of her sex swelling so that each subtle movement sent pleasure rippling to her core.
She fought it.
Whatever was wrong with her, it needed to stop.
She needed to stay focused and decide her path: stay and hope that her brother’s plan went as expected or run.
It crushed her to think of deserting her brother, but she knew he would not leave. From her glass display, she’d had the chance to watch him plenty. It was easy to see that he loved the training and the fighting and the camaraderie.
Plus, his heart was here.
He’d made his choice. Now, she had to make hers.
Slam.
Despite her training, Scarlett froze.
Slam.
Her chin snapped up, her gaze locking with rut-red eyes under heavy dark brows.
A red-skinned Alpha with huge black horns pressed himself so violently against the glass his big forehead, wide nose, and broad chest were nearly flat.
Thanks to the dais on which her display case rested, she was almost eye to eye with the huge male. He looked only a few planetary rotations younger than her.
His massive palm struck the glass, his lips easy enough to read: Mine.
Her heart skittered inside her chest.
He was not the first fighter to throw himself against the glass or make such a claim, but none had ever done so with the same intensity.
Even more astounding was her reaction.
She wanted to mouth the words right back.
To throw herself against the crystal until it shattered and she was in his arms. Pinned against him. Her nose buried against his skin as she breathed him in. Her smaller body undulating in time with his big one, the iridescent colors of her gift flickering across his skin as his large hands grasped her hips—and his cock thrust deep inside her.
Panting, she pressed her thighs together.
And could barely stop her hand from drifting down to touch herself while he watched.
She wanted to dance just for him. Present just for him. Exist just for him.
“Hands off the glass!” Nars hustled toward the front of the line, his fangs flashing. “Move it along.”
Her dark-haired Alpha stayed right where he was. His gaze locked on her.
“Fucking fighter filth.” Egan’s curse echoed through the private comms. “Shut that idiot down. Now!”
“Did you hear what I said?” Nars’s shock stick flared bright green. “Keep moving.”
The younger Alpha batted the security guard aside like a ball of fluff. The shock stick clattered to the ground.
Nars’s body hit a fellow Alpha farther down the line. That male roared and tossed the guard into another fighter, who swung back. Soon, ignited by the aggression, there was a brawl in the middle of the street only a few paces from the arena entrance.
The rest of security came running.
But even as chaos erupted around him, the huge, horned-Alpha with the red skin and swirling skin designs stayed right where he was, his stare on her.
Slam. The Alpha’s palm hit the glass once more, his square jaw tight, his big forehead furrowed.
A smaller male with orange skin, plaited hair, and a tail, ducked a flying body, then tapped her Alpha on the shoulder.
He didn’t budge.
Unable to help herself, her bare feet shuffled forward, the pull toward this male overriding all sense.
Meeting his demand was as essential as her next breath.
She pressed her palm against the glass, right in the center of his large hand.
A wave of triumph roared through her. Possession and need in quick succession.
Hers? His? She wasn’t sure, but the force of it left her dizzy.
And, for the first time in a long while, she felt truly seen. Her purpose, revealed.
Then, security reached him.
Burly forms launched themselves at the male from both sides. They ripped his hands from the glass. One guard spun him around, fist cocked to strike.
Faster than she would have thought possible, her Alpha dodged the punch, grabbed the shock stick of another guard, stunned the first and then, swinging that guard into the rest, sent them all spilling to the floor.
He sent the next wave of guards flying too.
A spurt of satisfaction bubbled up through her. A righteous victory she hadn’t felt in forever.
Bullies were getting their due.
But her delight was short-lived.
More security arrived. Shock sticks flared. They dragged away the others involved in the brawl. They’d eventually bring him down too.
The consortium had unlimited resources, weapons, and manpower.
There was no way this Alpha—as astonishing a fighter as he was—could win this battle.
A mass of security encircled him from three sides. With her glass display blocking his only other exit route, there was nowhere for the Alpha to go.
They shoved aside the orange-skinned male who’d tried to help.
As if she was his anchor, the mesmerizing Alpha’s gaze locked with hers once more.
Then, he disappeared under a sea of bodies.
Limbs flew as fists struck and boots found their target.
She flinched, pain lancing through her as if it was her body under siege.
She staggered under the force of it, both palms landing on the glass—and noticed the crystal wall in front of her was no longer flickering with the colors of the rainbow, but only a violent black. In the next heartbeat, the area where her hands rested grew hot, warped in on itself. Almost melting.
She lurched back, but the ribbons of black emanating from her palms remained, a shadow of darkness that rippled through the air.
That had never happened before.
Startled, she fisted her hands and tucked them behind her back.
Just as security pulled the Alpha to his feet, his arms shackled behind him, his face bloodied, veins popping in his neck as he thrashed and bucked.
But he was in better shape than most of the guards.
The consortium would not be pleased. Terror stabbed through her. Guilt, too.
She didn’t even know the male, but every cell inside her shrieked in protest at the thought of his death.
She pressed closer to the glass.
The shackles at his wrists broke. The guards holding him flew back.
He flattened himself against the glass once more. “Didn’t mean… to scare you. I’ll do… better.” Even through the thick barrier, the rasp of his voice slid down her spine like a caress.
The guards surged toward him yet again.
This time, however, his hands went up. He spun slowly to face them, the sculpted muscles in his back bunching. “All good. Just a misunderstanding. I’ll save the rest for the ring.”
They jumped him anyway.
He let them, not even flinching as they got in a few hits before dragging him in the direction of the security cells.
She clenched her hands into tight fists and locked her knees to keep from throwing herself at the crystal glass.
