Barbarian

Anna Hackett

Barbarian

Published by Anna Hackett

Copyright 2017 by Anna Hackett

Cover by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers

Edits by Tanya Saari

ISBN: 978-1-925539-25-7

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events or places is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

Contents

What readers are saying about Anna’s Science Fiction Romance

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Preview – Hell Squad: Marcus

Also by Anna Hackett

About the Author

What readers are saying about Anna’s Science Fiction Romance

At Star’s End – One of Library Journal’s Best E-Original Romances for 2014

Return to Dark Earth – One of Library Journal’s Best E-Original Books for 2015 and two-time SFR Galaxy Awards winner

The Phoenix Adventures – SFR Galaxy Award Winner for Most Fun New Series and “Why Isn’t This a Movie?” Series

Beneath a Trojan Moon – SFR Galaxy Award Winner and RWAus Ella Award Winner

Hell Squad – Amazon Bestselling Science Fiction Romance Series and SFR Galaxy Award for best Post-Apocalypse for Readers who don’t like Post-Apocalypse

The Anomaly Series – #1 Amazon Action Adventure Romance Bestseller

“Like Indiana Jones meets Star Wars. A treasure hunt with a steamy romance.” – SFF Dragon, review of Among Galactic Ruins

“Strap in, enjoy the heat of romance and the daring of this group of space travellers!” – Di, Top 500 Amazon Reviewer, review of At Star’s End

“High action and adventure surrounding an impossible treasure hunt kept me reading until late in the night.” – Jen, That’s What I’m Talking About, review of Beyond Galaxy’s Edge

“Action, danger, aliens, romance – yup, it’s another great book from Anna Hackett!” – Book Gannet Reviews, review of Hell Squad: Marcus

Sign up for my VIP mailing list and get your free box set containing three action-packed romances.

Click here to get started: www.annahackettbooks.com

Chapter One

“Open your eyes, Winter.”

Winter Ashworth kept her eyes closed, her stomach caught between churning and fluttering. The narrow bunk in Medical felt cold under her body.

“Winter?” the voice came again, modulated and calm.

She opened her eyes.

The black turned to a mottled gray. Her bottom lip quivered, before she bit down on it. “There’s a little improvement.” Her stomach felt like a rock was sitting in it. “But I can’t see.”

A soft touch on her arm. The Hermia healers at the House of Galen had been trying for weeks to heal her damaged eyes. And in the meantime, she’d started working with them here in Medical. Sure, with her lack of sight things weren’t easy, but she was doing what she could.

The healer, whose name was Garda, had long, slim fingers. The Hermia were a genderless species and were all very tall and slender, wore simple robes, and from what the others had told her, had rounded heads with no hair and large green eyes. They also had incredible healing abilities.

Winter swallowed. She’d been a celebrated surgeon on Earth, and headed out to work on the Fortuna Space Station orbiting Jupiter. Instead, she’d been abducted by alien slavers. The Thraxians had transported her to the other side of the galaxy via a now-closed wormhole, blinded her in terrible experiments, and then tossed her in the Srinar fight rings.

She sucked in a shuddering breath. She was safe now. She was at the House of Galen, rescued by the gladiators, and now living with a handful of fellow humans who’d also been rescued.

“Can we see her?” a voice asked.

Winter recognized Harper’s voice and, as she drew in another breath, she smelled her friends. Harper, the former security officer from the Fortuna Space Station always smelled like leather and wood. Now she was a badass gladiator and it suited her. Regan Forrest, a scientist from the space station, smelled like flowers, despite spending most of her days tinkering in the small lab that she’d claimed for herself.

Rory, an engineer from Fortuna, smelled like the faint scent of oil, probably because she worked with the House of Galen maintenance team. The fourth woman was standing at the back of the group, her fragrance lighter. Madeline, the former space station commander, had a cooler scent that made Winter think of the ocean.

“Hey, Winter.” Rory’s energetic voice. “How are you doing?”

A hand gripped Winter’s hand and she knew it was Regan. She squeezed it. “The latest procedure didn’t work.”

“I’m sorry,” Regan murmured.

“I have one more device I would like you to test,” the healer said. “Galen authorized me to procure it.”

Winter’s chest hitched. She wasn’t sure she could handle another disappointment. Then she stiffened her spine. When she’d first been rescued by the House of Galen gladiators, she’d been dazed and in shock. Flashes of memories hit her and her hands curled into her palms. Images of the Thraxian lab, of being tied down, of pain.

But that was her past. And now she had to deal with a new future.

They could never get back to Earth. Even with the current spaceship technology available to them out here in the far reaches of the galaxy, Earth was hundreds of years away. Thinking of her mother and brother, Winter felt a sting of sadness. She hadn’t lived near her family for a long time, but she’d talked with her mother frequently. Pushing the sad memories aside, Winter focused on the women in front of her. These women were making a new life here on the desert world of Carthago.

Winter was determined to do the same. At least she had the chance, unlike poor Dayna and Mia. Two more humans who’d been abducted. Those women had been her lifeline and while Winter had been rescued—again—her friends were still missing.

Being a doctor had suited Winter’s practical, no-nonsense nature, and she was using that now to survive. So the Thraxians had tortured her and she often woke up screaming in the middle of the night. So she’d lost her vision. She couldn’t change any of that. All she could do was pick herself up and keep moving forward.

She sure as hell wasn’t going to curl up in a ball and be the useless burden some people might see her as. She instantly thought of one big, obnoxious barbarian gladiator. Pfft, she was so not going there. She wasn’t giving Nero the satisfaction.

“Do it,” she told the healer.

She felt the press of cool metal at her temple.

“The device is circular and metallic,” Garda said. “It adheres to your skin but can be removed with slight pressure.”

“How’s it work?” Winter asked.

“The vision device transmits visual input through your optic nerves to your brain. I must warn you…the device cannot fully restore your sight. It cannot provide images in color nor will your vision be as detailed.”

“Okay.” Whatever happened, she’d deal with it.

“Open your eyes now, Winter.”

She swallowed to wet her dry throat, and opened her eyes. Her vision resolved and she saw a wide plane of blue.

“Allow yourself to adjust,” the healer added, helping Winter up to a sitting position.

The blue changed and resolved into the forms of four women. Winter gasped. It was like looking at everything through night vision goggles that tinted everything blue. There were a lot of shadows, but she could see.

Delighted, she pushed off the bed. She misjudged and almost tumbled. Her friends all stepped forward, but she caught herself. It would take her a little time to adjust to the difference in her vision and her depth perception.

Winter took a step forward. “Oh, my God, I can see you guys!”

The women surrounded her, all laughing. Harper was tall and muscular, Regan was short and curvy, Rory had a slender but wiry frame with a small pregnant belly, and Madeline was trim and compact.

“Oh, God.” Delighted and overwhelmed, she grabbed each woman, hugging them. She spun and saw Garda for the first time. The healer was very tall and very slim, and wearing pale-colored robes. Garda’s face was serene and composed. “Thank you, Garda.”

“It is my pleasure, Winter. You will be able to take on more duties in Medical, now.”

Winter laughed. “So, you just healed me so you’d have someone to do your dirty work?”

Garda’s lips moved into a slight smile. “Perhaps.”

Winter did a lap of Medical, bumping a hip against a bunk once, and almost knocking over a tray of medical tools. She just needed to adjust to the device. She paused to study the amazing regen tanks at the back of the room. They were filled with healing fluid.

She turned back to the others. “I want to test this out some more.” She headed for the doors.

“We’ll come with you,” Regan said.

Winter paused. “No. I…need to do this myself. But thank you.”

Regan smiled. “I understand.”

“We’ll meet you later in the living area,” Rory said. “Remember, we’re watching the fight tonight.”

Excitement shot through Winter. She’d been to a few gladiatorial fights in the arena, and absorbed the smells, the overwhelming sounds, and sensations.

But tonight, she’d actually get to see the gladiators fight.

Her thoughts turned to Dayna and Mia, guilt flooding in. She pressed her lips together and waved to the others as she stepped out of Medical.

Having some vision restored meant she could play an even greater part in the search for her friends. Sight or no sight, she was going to find them.

***

Frustration bit at him like the stab of a sharp blade.

Nero Krahn had spent the entire day out hunting—following leads, looking for clues, and trying to follow a trail that had long gone cold.

He scowled. He hated failure. He hated the thought of having to go back to his imperator and tell him there was no sign of the women.

Nero skirted the people clogging the sidewalks, and thankfully, due to his size and scowl, most people hurried out of his way. Some days, he missed the clean air and dense jungles of his home world. He looked up as he approached the Kor Magna Arena. The cream stone walls rose up high into the sky, multicolored flags fluttering above the arches.

This was his home now. Nero had left his failures behind on his home world. He’d been ripped away from Symeria by alien slavers, but now the House of Galen—one of the best gladiator houses in the arena—had his loyalty, as did the gladiators he called brothers.

But today, instead of fighting on the arena sand, he’d put his hunting skills to use for his imperator. He was searching for the two women who’d been stolen from the House of Galen.

And he’d come back with nothing.

“That scowl is going to make small children cry,” a smooth voice said.

Nero looked over at his fight partner, Lore.

The man was tall, but leaner than Nero, with a leather harness crisscrossing his chest, and long hair brushing his shoulders. When Nero had first been paired with Lore, he’d thought their imperator, Galen, had been crazy. Nero was the son of a barbarian warlord, and Galen had matched him with a showman who always had a bagful of tricks.

But after years of fighting together, he and Lore had become as close as brothers. Nero had learned that there was much more to Lore than he’d first thought. Their fighting styles complemented each other, and what one lacked, the other could offer. It made them formidable in the arena, and Nero trusted Lore with his very last breath.

“You should lighten up on the scowling, glaring, and glowering.” Lore’s grin was wide. “You might have fewer people scurry out of your way in fear.”

Nero glared at his friend.

Lore gave a gusty sigh. “I know you’re frustrated we didn’t find any hint of Dayna and Mia. So am I.” Lore slapped Nero on the shoulder. “But you know we won’t give up.”

“With every day, the trail grows colder,” Nero said.

Several months before, the House of Galen had been turned upside-down with the arrival of one small, female fighter. Harper Adams had been abducted from Earth, on the far side of the galaxy, by the cowardly Thraxians. The alien slavers had sold her to the arena, and Galen and his champion gladiator, Raiden, had taken her in.

Now, the House of Galen was busy rescuing the remaining humans of Earth who’d been taken. Nero shook his head. As a result, gladiators were falling like desert sandflies. Raiden had fallen in love with Harper. Big, wild Thorin had claimed small Regan. Kace had managed to impregnate the sharp-tongued Rory. Lore had bonded with Madeline. By the blade, even Saff—the fiercest female gladiator in Kor Magna—had fallen for the lone male among the humans, Blaine.

Now, the House of Galen was at war with the House of Thrax, and their sand-sucking allies, the Srinar. Galen had managed to shut down their secret underground fight rings, but in retaliation, they’d abducted several rescued Earth women right from the heart of the House of Galen.

Thraxians and the Srinar…they were all scum. Nero had been raised to fight and protect, and everything in him was driven to defeat dishonorable, cowardly abusers. These slavers delighted in hurting those far weaker and smaller than themselves.

After a wild mission into the desert, they’d rescued one of the stolen women—the small, blind healer…no, doctor. That’s what she called herself. They’d rescued Winter, but the other two women—Dayna and Mia—were still out there, no doubt suffering at the hands of their captors.

Nero scowled. Winter might be small in stature and unable to see, but the woman specialized in sharp, cutting words. The woman’s tongue was a weapon far sharper than his sword. And she liked to lash him with it whenever she got the chance.

“Nero! Lore!”

Three pretty women rushed up to them in a swirl of perfume that clogged Nero’s senses. A hand pressed against his chest.

“Nero, you’re my favorite gladiator.” The woman blinked big, brown eyes, topped with unnaturally long eyelashes, at him. Her face was covered in enhancements—glittering red lips, bright-blue color around her eyes, pink on her cheeks. She lowered her voice. “I’d love to spend some time with you. I’ll do anything.” The eyelashes fluttered.

Nero felt a surge of annoyance. He had no time for glittery, silly women. He looked at Lore, who was gently disconnecting the other two women from his body.

“I am not interested.” Nero shot a look at the other women. They both backed up a step. “And Lore has a woman. Go.” They hesitated, all looking like new fighters caught in the arena spotlights for the first time. “I said go.”

The women all hurried away, their dresses fluttering.

“You sure charmed them.” Lore looked like he was fighting a laugh.

Nero just grunted.

They entered the tunnels beneath the arena and headed for the House of Galen.

“Well, I plan to find my woman before we have to prepare for tonight’s fight.” Lore smiled, his gaze warming.

At first, Nero had thought Madeline Cochran broken and cold, but ever since she’d been rescued and Lore had swept her into his arms, the woman sure smiled a lot more.

Nero didn’t understand the attraction of having a woman underfoot. “I’ll see you at the fight.”

“It’s with the House of Aviar. You’ll be able to flex those barbarian hunting skills of yours.”

The House of Aviar fought with giant avian beasts. Nero felt a spike in his blood, the hunter rising. “Good.”

He’d be able to work off his frustration in the fight. But he still promised that he would find those women. He vowed it.

They rounded a corner, and came to the double doors of the House of Galen. The image of a helmeted gladiator in profile was emblazoned on the wood. A guard nodded at them and opened the doors.

“See you later, Nero,” Lore said, as he hurried off.

Nero strode toward the living quarters reserved for the high-level gladiators. He turned a corner and crashed into a small figure heading in the opposite direction.

“Oof.” The woman toppled backward and he grabbed her before she hit the ground.

Nero felt a warning prickle run up his arms. As the woman lifted her head, his gaze went straight to her milky white eyes. Winter.

He knew the Thraxians had tortured her while she’d been in captivity and performed experiments on her. In the process, they’d blinded her. Anger spiked like burning poison in his blood.

“Nero.” She stepped back. “Sorry. For a big man, you don’t make any noise when you walk. Must be all those barbarian skulking skills of yours.” She was staring straight at him. “Wow, you really are big.”

He dragged in a deep breath and instantly regretted it. He smelled her. He could detect the antiseptic scent of Medical, where he knew she was working with the House of Galen healers, but he also smelled her. A sweet, teasing scent of fresh water, soap, and warm skin.

“Winter.” She was so small compared to him. She had long, black hair that she had pulled back in a tail. “What are you doing, wandering the halls without someone to help you around?” He didn’t like the idea of her roaming on her own, unable to see if someone was sneaking up on her. Just over a week ago, she’d been snatched out of these very walls.

He watched that pointed chin of hers lift. “I’m perfectly capable of getting around the House of Galen. Besides, the healers gave me this.” She tapped her temple.

That’s when he saw a tiny, metallic circle pressed against the skin of her temple. “What is it?”

“It’s a vision device. I can see.” Excitement leaked into her voice. “Well, sort of. I can’t see colors, everything is in shades of blue. And the bruises I’ve collected from running into things are proof I’ll need to adjust. I can miss some detail, especially in the distance, but otherwise, I can see quite well.”

Her gaze moved over his face before sliding down his body. Nero resisted the urge to shift under the scrutiny.

“Wow…you have excellent musculature.”

As her gaze lingered on his abdomen, Nero drew in a sharp breath.

Her head jerked up, her cheeks turning pink. She fingered the device, then waved a hand. “I’m sure you’re not interested in any of this. It is still a weakness, right?”

Nero felt a muscle tick in his jaw. On the mission to rescue her in the desert, he’d been concerned for her safety. She was blind and the desert was dangerous. He’d made a mistake in telling her that on his home world, she would be considered a weakness. His words had come out very wrong.

“I realize that without perfect vision you think I’m—” she tapped her chin “—what did you call me before? A burden?”

“I was explaining about my planet, Symeria, and about the fact that it puts you at a disadvantage—”

She gave him a sharp smile. “Well, now I’m not so useless.”

He heard the sarcastic edge to her voice. “I never said you were useless. You did.”

She froze, her white gaze lifting to his face. “I guess you never actually used the word.”

“No, I didn’t. I simply wanted to protect you. As you discovered, the desert beasts are vicious, and being unable to see them coming put you at great risk.”

She swallowed and didn’t say anything. No doubt she was remembering the beast that had attacked them.

Nero straightened. “I will not apologize for wanting to keep you safe, but perhaps what I said was also colored by your own thoughts.”

She expelled a breath. “Maybe…I jumped to conclusions. But you do have a gruff, short and opinionated demeanor.”

“I am a gladiator. I do not pander to people.”

She hissed and shook her head. “Do you have to be so gruff all the time?”

“Yes.”

Winter rolled her eyes. “Well, you are good at it.”

“I’ve had lots of practice.”

She studied his face carefully for a moment. “Did you just make a joke?”

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Right. You have no sense of humor. How could I forget?” Her gaze drifted over his body again, and she straightened. “Wait. You were out looking for Dayna and Mia.”

“Yes.” He watched as her face lit up, and bit back a growl of anger that he’d have to disappoint her. “There was no sign of them.”

Winter’s shoulders sagged, her face falling. “It’s been over a week.” There was desolation in her tone.

“We will find them.” Nero’s hand itched to reach out and cup her slim shoulder. He stiffened his spine. Why the hell did he feel the need to comfort her? He’d never comforted anyone.

She gave a small nod. “You have a fight tonight.”

“Yes. Against the House of Aviar.”

“I’ll be there.”

He thought of her in amongst the crowded stands, surrounded by strangers, the noise swamping her. “Will you be able to see well enough?”

That chin lifted again, and he was certain she was grinding her teeth together. “I want to test the device out, and I can smell and hear perfectly fine. I can eat the food, and talk with my friends. Regardless of what barbarian gladiators think, I’m still a fully functioning woman.”

Against his will, his gaze ran down her small form. She was tiny compared to him, but under her cream-colored dress were curves that were perfectly in proportion to her form.

He jerked his gaze away. He had no interest in Winter’s form, or her sharp tongue. He felt furious at the unwelcome rush of desire.

“If you get injured tonight, I can patch you up in Medical now,” she said sweetly. “But I can’t guarantee a pleasant bedside manner.” She strode off down the corridor. “Goodbye, barbarian.”

There was no hesitation in her step, and anyone looking at her from a distance wouldn’t be able to guess that her vision was impaired in any way.

Her words echoed in his head. She’d said goodbye like she meant to say, “Eat sand and die.”

Nero shook his head. He needed to report in with Galen, and not worry about a stubborn, smart-mouthed Earth woman.

Chapter Two

It felt so good to see where she was going.

Winter walked down the hall toward the living area. She was also ridiculously pleased that she’d gotten ready for the fight, and the party afterward, by herself. Without having to rely on anyone else. To be fair, she’d spent most of the last hour in her room looking at everything. She already knew her space by touch, but adding another sense to her impression of her room was awesome.

But not quite as intoxicating as looking at Nero Krahn for the first time.

A breath shuddered out of her. The man might be annoying, scowly, and lacking in manners, but he sure was a sight to behold.

He was big and broad-shouldered, and his muscles… God, every inch of him was tight and hard-packed. He only wore a harness topped with fur across his chest, and she’d noticed he had tattoos on one side of his body. Intriguing alien images. She wondered what story they told.

He had dark hair, just a little long and wild, and dark scruff on his strong jaw. She desperately wondered what color his skin was, and the hue of those intense eyes.

He’d been right. He’d said some things to her, in his gruff, insensitive way, and she’d maybe read more into it than he’d meant. She still hadn’t quite worked through it all in her head.

“Winter, you look amazing.”

Rory’s bold voice jerked Winter out of her thoughts of Nero. Of Nero. God, the man drove her crazy, and the very last thing she needed was to be thinking of him.

Winter touched the silky fabric of her dress. “Regan helped me buy a few new things. After a lifetime spent in ugly scrubs, I decided it was time for a change.” Time to embrace her new life. She ran her palm over the fabric again, enjoying the feel of it. It was short, had a high neckline in front, but the back…well, there wasn’t much back. She could feel the cool air on her skin. She felt sexy for the first time in forever.

“You go, girl.” Rory was currently sitting at the long dining table, cradling a bowl and eating…whatever was inside it. The goopy, dark mass did not look appealing, although Winter hadn’t worked out all the alien foods, yet.

She paused behind one chair and went still. She’d sat at this table with Dayna and Mia after their rescue from the fight rings, gorging themselves on all the food on offer. They’d been giggling like schoolgirls, so relieved to finally be free.

But now Dayna and Mia weren’t free.

Someone reached out and squeezed Winter’s hand. She looked up at Harper.

“We’ll get them back,” Harper said in her steady voice.

“Are you reading my mind?”

A smile turned Harper’s lips. “It’s written all over your face. And I’m thinking of them, too.”

Winter did her best to shake off the melancholy thoughts. Harper was wearing a sexy dark dress that Winter guessed was black. “You’re not fighting tonight?”

Harper shook her head. “No. But Blaine is.”

Blaine Strong was another former member of security from Fortuna Station. After he’d been abducted, he’d been forced to participate in fights to the death in the Srinar’s horrible fight rings.

But at the House of Galen, his torment was easing, no doubt helped along by the wild and dangerous female gladiator, Saff, who’d claimed him. Just being around the pair made Winter feel hot and bothered.

“How’s it going in Medical?” Regan asked.

The subject perked Winter up. She loved her work. “Great. The Hermia healers are fascinating.” The Hermia had incredible medical knowledge, and the ability to direct biological energy in the body. “And with this device—” she tapped her temple “—I can help out with even more tasks, now.”

At first, without the ability to see, Winter hadn’t been sure that there was much she could help with in Medical. But the Hermia had been patient with her, and sure, she’d probably never be able to do surgery again. Her gut churned at the loss. She’d loved the challenge of surgery, of knowing she was enhancing and saving lives.

But the technology here was so different, and there was so much for her to learn. There was a lot she could still help with.

“I’ve also been working with the blue alien who was rescued with us,” she said.

“Mia’s blue beast-man?” Rory asked.

The blue-skinned alien had helped protect Mia, Dayna, and Winter in the fight rings. He’d been fighting down there so long, he was more animal than man.

“Any progress with him?” Regan asked, sympathy in her voice. “Mia said he was wild and couldn’t talk.”

Winter frowned. “Not as much progress as I’d like. He’s calming down a lot, and he’s talking a bit. He still hasn’t told me his name.” She wondered if he even remembered it. “All he does is ask for Mia. Other than that, he doesn’t say very much.”

“He bonded with her,” Regan said. “She used to go down and sit with him.”

“No one knows what kind of alien species he is,” Winter told them. “But from what I can tell, he’s got incredible senses. He got out of his cell the other day, and I found him in Mia’s room. He clearly tracked her scent there, and she’s been gone for over a week.”

“Hmm, sounds like he’d give Thorin and Nero a run for their money,” Harper said. “Thorin has a hell of a nose, and Nero can follow a trail that I can’t see at all.”

At the mention of Nero, Winter felt a familiar jolt.

“The fight’s starting soon,” Madeline said, interrupting the conversation. “Let’s head up to the arena.”

Excitement left Winter a little giddy. As a doctor, watching people attack each other with sharp weapons should horrify her. But the arena was the lifeblood of the city of Kor Magna, and she knew these fights were never to the death. They were entertainment for the masses. Displays of skill, prowess, and experience.

And good-looking, athletic men and women.

“I can’t wait to watch the fight,” Rory announced. “I want to see my baby daddy getting hot and sweaty.” She rubbed the mound of her belly.

Winter smiled. Not only had Rory fallen in love with an alien gladiator, she was also expecting his baby. “How you feeling?”

“Amazing. And huge. This Antarian baby is growing exponentially.” Rory grabbed Winter’s hand and pressed it to her belly.

Winter’s smile widened. She’d always wanted kids, and she couldn’t wait for Rory’s to arrive. If there was anything that underscored embracing a new life, it was making one.

Soon, a reverberation of sound reached her ears. The closer they got to the arena, the louder the noise.

The din of an eager, entertainment-thirsty crowd.

Rory linked her arm through Winter’s, and they stepped out of the tunnels. The sights, sounds, and smells hit her. She stopped for a second, gathering herself against the sensory input. The crowd was roaring, and she stared eagerly at the tiered seats leading down to the large oval of the sand-covered arena floor.

As they moved down the steps toward the front-row House of Galen seats, Winter listened to the cheers, the snatches of excited conversations, the impatient shift of feet. Everyone was waiting for the gladiators to arrive.

She only tripped twice before Harper waved them into their seats.

Winter sat, feeling the hard surface beneath her. She curled her hands around the cool metal railing in front of her, and wondered how many other enthusiastic people had sat here, waiting for the fights to begin. She breathed deep, smelling sizzling food and unwashed bodies. She stared down at the arena floor, taking it all in. The sand looked paler compared to the arena stone and the spectators. God, she wished she could see some colors, but she could imagine the different hues.

She couldn’t wait to see the gladiators.

“Wow, look at that.” Rory had her head arched back.

Winter looked up. A huge, electronic mesh covered the top of the arena, glowing electric blue through her vision device. She frowned. “What’s it for?”

“We’re fighting the House of Aviar,” Harper said. “They fight with these giant birds, and the mesh keeps them contained.”

Rory bounced in her seat. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Suddenly, the sounds of the crowd muted, like someone had turned down a volume dial.

“What’s happening?” Winter asked.

“The House of Galen has arrived.” There was a smile in Rory’s voice. “God, they are easy on the eyes.”

Winter leaned closer to the railing, and saw the gladiators enter the arena through a tunnel below. She made out Raiden and Thorin’s powerful forms in the lead. Raiden’s cloak snapped out behind him, and she could just make out the dark ink of all his tattoos on his skin. Beside him, Thorin was a huge presence, carrying a giant axe. The man was big and wild and brutish. Except when he looked at Regan.

Kace and Saff followed behind the men. Kace had the straight bearing of a soldier, while Saff sauntered across the sand with her lithe, powerful body. Rory waved madly at her man and put her fingers to her mouth to whistle.

“There’s my handsome military man,” Rory said. “And Saff looks as badass as always.”

Next up was Blaine, with a gladiator that Winter couldn’t recognize—a lower-level gladiator, she guessed. From here, she wouldn’t have picked dark-skinned Blaine as being from Earth. With the leather harness and dark leather pants, he looked every inch the gladiator. His gaze appeared to be on Saff, a smile on his face.

Lore and Nero brought up the rear.

As Lore spun to find the House of Galen seats, his long, dark hair brushed his broad shoulders. He blew Madeline a kiss and the woman’s cheeks turned pink.

Rory elbowed the woman. “Can’t wait to see what tricks your fiery gladiator has up his sleeves tonight.”

Madeline just smiled.

“Ah, look, and Nero is scowling this way,” Rory added.

Winter’s heart tripped. “He’s always scowling. I’m pretty sure the only thing he can do is scowl.”

Rory nodded. “Doesn’t matter. He does it well. He has that fierce barbarian look down pat.” She sighed. “And all those big, hard muscles.”

Winter wasn’t going to look at his muscles again. So the man was built. She preferred a man with an interesting, intelligent mind over brawn and bad manners. She did note the fascinating strips of fur on his leather harness, though, and the bands around his wrists. She wondered what animal they’d come from.

As the gladiators crossed the sand to the center of the arena, there was the sudden, loud screech of a bird.

The sound echoed through the arena, and the crowd gasped as one.

Winter lifted her head. Several big birds of prey were circling overhead.

They were huge.

“This is going to be good,” Harper said.

A horn blast echoed out across the arena. The fight had begun.

Chest tight with excitement, Winter watched the House of Galen gladiators spin to face the gladiators charging at them from the other side of the arena.

The rival gladiators were a mix of species, and all wore heavy leather gauntlets on their arms.

Swords and axes crashed together. The fight was a whirl of action—leaps, lunges, and spins. Each brutal blow made the crowd cheer or boo. Winter wished desperately she could see more detail with her vision device, but it was enough that she could see the way the big, hard bodies moved across the sand.

She watched Thorin charging across the sand, swinging his axe. Blaine was whirling, using two swords tonight. Saff tossed a net that tangled around a rival gladiator’s knees, taking him to the sand. Kace swung a staff with fast, deadly swings.

Suddenly, a huge shadow swooped down from above. The alien bird was about the size of one of the gladiators, and covered in dark feathers. It had huge claws and a very sharp beak. It arrowed down, swooping at Raiden, who dived and rolled out of the way. As he swung his sword at the bird, it flapped its wings and flew away.

All around the arena, the gladiators ducked out of the way of the attacking animals. Winter heard sharp whistles, and realized some of the Aviar gladiators were giving the birds commands.

One bird landed on the sand. It struck at Lore, who tossed something up over his head. Fireworks sizzled into the air, bursting into a ball of bright sparks. The birds above screeched and scattered.

The bird on the ground suddenly darted forward with a flap of wings, and slammed its head into Lore’s chest. It drove the gladiator to the ground.

Madeline shot to her feet. “Get up, Lore.”

“He’ll be fine,” Harper said.

Winter watched as a powerful form charged into view. Even from a distance, she knew it was Nero. He raised a sword, swinging it at the attacking bird. The bird leaped into the air, wings beating as it hovered above him.

Nero took three running steps and launched himself into the air. He grabbed onto the bird’s feathers, dragging it down to the ground.

The crowd screamed, feet stomping.

Nero and the bird rolled in the sand and, a second later, the gladiator leaped to his feet. He slashed at the bird, avoiding the snapping beak and claws, and sliced its wing.

But behind him, Winter saw another dark shape sweeping in from above.

She gasped, her hands twisting on the railing. Another bird was heading straight for him. She wanted to scream and yell at him, but she knew he’d never hear her.

He stepped back, his gaze still on the injured bird at his feet.

Turn around, barbarian. Her heart hammered against her chest. The bird swept in closer…

Nero spun so fast that Winter jumped in her seat. He stepped out of the bird’s path, ducking under its wing, and grabbed a handful of feathers on the bird’s side. In a flash, he pulled himself onto the creature’s back.

The bird squawked and shot back into the air. As Nero rode the bird higher, the crowd went wild.

Winter watched in horror, certain her heart was going to burst out of her chest. He changed his grip on his sword, and slammed the heavy hilt into the creature’s head.

The bird stopped climbing and started falling, unconscious.

Nero and the bird were plummeting toward the sand. Winter jumped to her feet, the chaos of the spectators echoing around her.

Just before the bird hit the ground, Nero jumped off with a powerful leap. He rolled over twice in the sand, before coming back to his feet.

The crowd roared its approval.

The announcers’ voices resonated across the arena. The House of Galen were declared the winners.

The women all cheered.

“Hell of a show,” Rory said, bumping a hip against Winter.

Catching her breath, Winter slowly sat back down. She watched Lore slap a hand on Nero’s back. Blaine was saying something and Nero was nodding.

Pfft. All the fancy showing off. Winter sniffed. It wasn’t that good.

“Did you see Blaine’s footwork?” Harper said. “He is getting so good with dual swords.”

“And Nero,” Regan said. “I know he comes from a barbarian world…but did you see him on that bird?” Her voice was a little breathless.

Winter snorted. “Right. Oh, look at me, I’m a big, bad barbarian.”

The women swiveled as one to look at her, and Winter suddenly felt like a very small bug under a very big magnifying glass.

She waved a hand at them. “Sorry. He just rubs me the wrong way.”

“Oh?” Madeline said, a brow arched.

“Not like that,” Winter hurried to say. “He told me I’m small, lacking in strength, and that my lack of sight is a weakness.”

Hot gasps filled the air.

“What?” Rory exclaimed.

“It was while we were in the desert. He was explaining that on Symeria, the small and weak don’t survive.”

“From what I hear, his home world was a pretty wild place,” Regan said. “Extreme weather, wild beasts, and that sort of thing. Clearly, being physically strong is an advantage.”

“It doesn’t mean he has to be an ass,” Rory interjected.

“He did try to explain himself,” Winter said. “He didn’t apologize, of course, and I’m still not sure what to make of it.”

Rory snorted. “The man doesn’t really have a way with words.”

“He came to Kor Magna as a young man,” Madeline said. “He was taken by slavers and dumped here. I’m sure surviving in the arena just reinforced what he’d grown up with.”

Rory spun. “But he’s been House of Galen for a long time. He must know there are other things more important than muscles.”

Harper shook her head. “Stand down, Fraser. I’m sure Nero is doing his best to adjust to the influx of independent Earth women at the House of Galen.”

Laughter broke out. Rory rubbed her belly and looked at Winter. “Well, if Nero needs a knock to the head, you just tell me. I’ll hold him down while you hit him.”

Winter’s lips twitched at the thought of her and Rory taking on a trained barbarian gladiator. “Thanks. Like I said, he sort of tried to explain himself. He said that he just wanted to protect me.”

“Protect you, huh?” Rory said. “Well, that is one thing these gladiators do well.”

“So, who’s ready for a party?” Regan asked, fiddling with her hair.

“Me,” Rory answered. “Our sexy, mysterious casino owner Rillian is sponsoring it. I want another look at him.”

“You have a man,” Harper said.

“I can still look. Hey, maybe he’ll suit Winter.” Rory waggled her eyebrows. “She’s next in line for a man.”

“I don’t need a man,” Winter said.

Harper leaned forward. “Zhim’s going to be there as well. Raiden says both men have been working with Galen to search for any sign of Dayna and Mia. Zhim’s even doing some of the work for free.”

Rory snorted. “Free is not a word in the information merchant’s vocabulary.”

Thoughts of her lost friends darkened Winter’s mood. How could she enjoy a party knowing her friends were prisoners? “Sometimes I lie in bed at night, wondering…”

Rory grabbed her hand, then Winter felt Regan, Harper, and Madeline each put their hands on Rory and Winter’s.

“We all think of them,” Regan said.

“We’ll get them back.” Harper’s tone was resolute.

Yes, they would. Winter straightened, looking at her friends. She would do whatever she had to do to help bring Dayna and Mia home.

Chapter Three

Showered and dressed after the fight, with scratches already healing under med gel that the healers had applied, Nero found himself heading to the party.

He didn’t like parties.

Lore elbowed him. “Lighten up. Have a few drinks, find yourself a woman. I can feel you brooding from over here.”

They were heading back up to the arena. Rillian, owner of the Dark Nebula Casino in Kor Magna’s flashy District, had organized tonight’s party. Nero guessed the man had planned something more creative than a few drinks in a hired room. The Dark Nebula was known for class, wealth, and opulence.

Nero ducked out of the tunnel, and paused for a second to look at the empty arena stands. It looked so different from when it was packed with spectators. It was almost peaceful.

Lore whistled. “Look at that.”

Turning his head, Nero spotted a huge floating platform hovering over the arena floor. He raised a brow.

“I’ve seen this before,” Lore said. “Once everyone is aboard, it’ll lift up and fly out over the city.”

Nero was reluctantly impressed. The platform was ringed by a railing and covered in small lights strung up on long poles. There were already guests aboard, holding drinks and mingling. Several fire dancers, wearing only what looked like silver and red paint, were spinning long, burning sticks and walking through the crowd.

Apparently, Rillian had spared no expense. As Nero and Lore approached the narrow walkway leading across to the platform, the man himself stepped forward to greet them.

Nero took a second to study the casino owner. The man wore a dark, tailored suit that Nero suspected cost more than half the weapons in Galen’s armory. But there was something about the man that made Nero’s instincts flare to life. The same way he’d felt on his first hunt, deep in the forest, when he’d known a giant Symerian grak beast had been hunting him.

Rillian was very good at putting on a charming façade, but Nero would bet his favorite sword that beneath, he was hiding something far darker and far more dangerous.

“Lore, Nero. Welcome.”

Nero nodded.

“Nice setup,” Lore said.

Rillian smiled. “Thank you.” He looked past Lore. “Where is your lovely Madeline?”

“On her way.” A smile edged the gladiator’s lips. “I’m hoping she’ll be wearing something fabulous.”

Nero stared Rillian in the eye. “I know you’re helping Galen with the search. Any news on the Earth women?”

The casino owner sighed. “Not much. Get a drink, find Galen, and then we’ll talk.” He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. A server hurried over with a tray full of drinks.

As Nero snagged an ale, he scanned the party. Instantly, he spotted their imperator near the bar. Galen was leaning against the glossy surface, surveying the party. Not surprisingly, the guests nearby were giving him a wide berth.

Rillian might cover his deadliness with gloss, but Galen did nothing of the sort. Galen had been born a royal guard, and trained for loyalty and killing from a young age. He’d been Raiden’s guard in another lifetime, and then he’d fought hard to build the House of Galen into the best gladiatorial house in Kor Magna.

With one eye covered by a black eye patch, a scarred cheek, and a dark shirt that clung to hard muscles, Galen was intimidating. He rarely smiled, and his single eye was an icy blue, his gaze missing nothing.

“Hey, G,” Lore said.

Galen nodded. “Good fight.”

“Nero was our barbarian hero. The arena flutterers will be out in force for him tonight.”

Nero leaned against the bar and hunched his shoulders. Tonight, he had no interest in the women who enjoyed sex with gladiators. He frowned into the amber liquid of his drink. Usually, he was happy enough to snag a woman —one who just wanted sex, no talking, and no clinging.

It had to be the search. He was focused on that, and didn’t want to let his attention splinter.

“Well, here are the reigning arena champions,” a voice drawled.

A tall form appeared, long, dark hair pulled back off his face and tied at the back of his neck. He had multi-colored eyes that looked like a nebula.

Nero scowled. Zhim was annoying. The man was some sort of genius and was known as the premier information merchant on Carthago. If anything was worth knowing, Zhim knew it, and was usually happy to sell it for the highest price.

“Zhim,” Galen said. “You find anything useful for us?”

The man sipped his drink, his gaze drifting over the party. “A few tiny bits and pieces.” His mouth tightened. “All my sources say the Srinar took your women into the desert to sell them.”

Drakking slavers. Nero gulped his drink. He hated them with every fiber of his being. That Galen was dedicated to saving the weak, injured, and helpless from slavers and the unscrupulous houses that used slaves, had sealed Nero’s loyalty to the man.

“Everything leads to the desert.” Zhim’s dark brows drew together. “But they should’ve been at the Rishyk Trading Post, en route to Zaabha.”

Zaabha. A legendary lawless arena in the desert, with vicious fighters and battles to the death. Everyone had thought it was a myth, but since the House of Galen had closed down the Srinar’s fight rings, it seemed they’d moved them into the desert.

And no one was talking about where Zaabha might be.

“When you rescued that small blind woman from Rishyk—”

“Winter,” Nero growled. “Her name is Winter.”

Zhim raised a brow. “I know. Winter Ashworth, a former doctor from Earth.” The information merchant turned back to Galen. “When you rescued Winter, the other women should have been with her.”

“But they weren’t,” Galen said darkly, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Something had gone wrong. Nero frowned. Something or someone had disrupted the Srinar’s plans for the women.

“What about Zaabha?” Galen asked. “Any luck locating it?”

Zhim shook his head. “No clue. I’ve found nothing on it.” A deep frustration laced the man’s voice. “But I will find it.”

“Drak.” Galen ran a hand through his dark hair. “I hate not having something to do.”

“Gladiators.” Zhim sipped his drink. “You always want to smash your sword against things.” He paused. “I do have an unconfirmed sighting of Mia.”

“What?” Nero straightened.

“Where?” Galen demanded.

“In the city,” Zhim answered. “I wasn’t going to bring it up yet. I’m working to get more details, and I haven’t even confirmed it was her.”

Rillian appeared, clutching a glass of clear fluid, ice clinking. “I have some information for you.”

Nero saw Zhim frown. The man did not like being in the dark or upstaged.

“A contact told me that the Thraxians and the Srinar are having problems with a rival.”

“Yeah, Galen,” Lore said.

“Someone other than Galen,” Rillian said.

“How does this relate to the women?” Nero asked.

The casino owner shook his head. “I’m not sure it does. But as Zhim knows, it pays to have all the information at your fingertips.”

“Do you know who this rival is?” Galen asked.

“Not yet,” Rillian answered. “But I’ll let you know when I do.”

“Keep at it, both of you,” Galen said. “Those women are under the protection of the House of Galen. The Thraxians and the Srinar entered my house uninvited, and took them. I want them back.”

The dark tone of Galen’s voice made even Nero straighten. The imperator was angry. Not just mad or upset, but filled with an icy-cold rage.

The imperator skewered Zhim with a look. “As soon as you know where Mia was seen, I want to know. I’ll have Nero check it out.”

Nero felt his hunting instincts flare. He wanted the trail. He wanted to hunt.

“Ah, here come the rest of your lovely Earth women, now,” Zhim said, his tone clearly emphasizing the change in topic.

Nero looked over his shoulder and every muscle in his body went tight.

Raiden, Thorin, and Kace were with them, a head taller than the women, and most of the crowd. The women were smiling, each one dressed in shimmering fabrics of varying hues.

Nero’s gaze skated over them all before landing on Winter.

She was wearing red. It was a fabric that gleamed in the light and clung to gentle curves. And there wasn’t enough of it. She’d left most of her legs bare.

He scowled. They were good legs, slim and toned, but she really didn’t need to be showing them to everyone at the party. Her long, dark hair was piled up on top of her head, leaving her slim neck bare. That skin of hers was so pale, like the snowy plains of—

He looked away and took a long sip of his drink, cursing when his glass ran empty. He could look. He could even admit that Winter was attractive. In a small, tiny kind of way. Absolutely not the type of woman he preferred. He liked big, strong women.

“Gentlemen,” Lore said. “I am abandoning you for better company.” He made a beeline for Madeline.

“Evening.” Raiden nodded at them. He had an arm wrapped tightly around Harper. “You’ve outdone yourself, Rillian.”

Rillian inclined his head.

From nearby, Thorin nabbed a drink, before tugging a giggling Regan into his arms.

“Not falling for the charms of an Earth woman, Nero?” Zhim asked.

Nero hunched his shoulders. “No.”

Zhim’s colored gaze took on a faraway look. “There is something…intriguing about them. They’re so fragile on the outside.”

Nero snorted. “I’m guessing you haven’t said that to their faces.”

The information merchant smiled. “I wouldn’t dare. I am well aware that they aren’t so fragile on the inside.”

Nero watched as men at the party began to take notice of the newly arrived women. He caught several staring at Winter’s legs. His hand tightened on his glass. Winter was smiling at her friends, and busy looking all around. She turned and that’s when he saw the back of her dress.

His cock hardened. There was no back, just smooth, bare skin. His gaze dipped to the small of Winter’s back and the glass in his hand cracked.

Cursing, he set the broken glass down on a table. When he looked back, he saw Rillian approach her. She smiled up at the man, listening to whatever he was telling her. A strange feeling filled Nero’s chest. Rillian was rich and charismatic, and Winter was still adjusting to her new life on Carthago. He had no right to dazzle her with his charm.

Shaking his head, Nero turned his back on the party and signaled for another drink. As he was waiting for the bartender to head his way, he felt someone move up beside him.

“So, what do big, bad barbarians drink?” Winter leaned over and sniffed his glass. “Blood of your defeated prey?”

He snorted. “Taskian ale.”

“That’s disappointing.” She lifted her own drink, ruby-red lips wrapping around the rim of the glass.

Her lips were painted the same color as her dress. He stared and now his cock was pressed painfully against his trousers. Drak, this was Winter. Opinionated, annoying Earth woman.

“I enjoyed the fight,” she said.

Nero liked that she’d been watching. “You could see everything well enough?”

Her nose wrinkled. “Yes, I could see, barbarian, I don’t—”

He grabbed her wrist. “I just meant did the device work?”

She stilled, staring at his face. “It did. It was fascinating to watch you fight, uh, all of you fight.”

“I loved the fight!” a high-pitched voice purred. A tall, pretty woman wearing a dress of bright, blinding colors slid in on the other side of Winter. Her hair was a waterfall of blue. She tottered on her high heels and looked like she’d had a few drinks already.

“When you rode that bird and took it down…” the woman shivered. “You have amazing skills.” The woman glanced at Winter. “Don’t you think he has amazing skills?”

“Just amazing.” Winter’s tone was as dry as desert sand.

When Winter took a step back from the bar, Nero realized she was planning to leave him alone with the prattling, rainbow-colored female.

He grabbed Winter’s arm and, for a second, was distracted by how smooth her skin was.

“Nero?” She was frowning at him.

“We have to go,” he grumbled to the flutterer.

He turned, pulling Winter into the party crowd, and leaving the pouting woman behind them.

***

Winter fought back her amusement. “So, there is something that makes a fearsome barbarian gladiator quake in his boots, after all.”

“You are an annoying woman.”

She let out a little laugh. “And you’re an annoying man.”

He pulled them to a stop in a quiet corner, near the railing. Seconds later, the floor began to vibrate under her feet, and the hum of an engine reached her ears. She gripped the railing.

“Steady.” Nero moved in behind her.

“What’s—?”

The platform beneath them suddenly rose smoothly into the air. Winter gasped and grabbed Nero’s arm. He wrapped a strong arm around her, and they stood there as the platform climbed above the arena.

The partygoers cheered.

“Wow,” she murmured. Clearly, they knew how to throw a party on Carthago. She swallowed, trying to focus on absorbing the view and not on the fact that a big, hard male body was pressed close behind her.

The platform crested the arena walls, and moved out over the city. Off to the left, she saw the giant spires of the District. The lights of Kor Magna spread out below them, like a spill of sapphires.

Except she knew it wasn’t all blue. “Tell me what colors you see?”

He was quiet for a second. “The District is as bad as the dress of that woman at the bar. Lots of garish colors battling each other. The rest of the city is mainly white and golden lights. Homes and businesses.” He cleared his throat. “Over to the right, I see some red lights. Like the color of your dress.”

She let out a breath. “Well, it all looks blue to me, but it is still pretty.”

She looked up at him, her gaze absorbing the strong jaw covered in the beginnings of a dark beard. He had a long, straight nose and dark brows. “What color are your eyes?”

“Purple.”

A laugh escaped Winter. “Purple.”

His brows drew together. “Why do you find that amusing? It is a common color on my planet.”

“Not on Earth. Some shades of blue eyes can look light purple. It’s considered…pretty.”

Now a full-force Nero scowl bloomed. “I am not pretty.”

No, he wasn’t. Winter really wished she could see his purple eyes.

They were quiet, the cheery noise of the party surrounding them. Winter enjoyed the rush of wind on her face.

“I am sorry my words in the desert caused you distress.”

The deep rumble of Nero’s voice vibrated against her, and made her realize how close they were standing. She turned to face him and saw he looked uncomfortable.

“But you’re not sorry you said them.”

He grimaced. “You are weaker than me, and your impaired vision makes this world dangerous to you. What I said was factual, but I didn’t mean for it—”

She screwed up her nose. God, the man knew how to work on her nerves. “You are so annoying. Can’t you just be nice?”

“I am not nice, but I am not evil, either. I tell the truth.”

“Your interpretation of the truth. Which is coated in ‘big, brooding barbarian.’” She lowered her voice. “Me strong. You weak.”

He went stiff as a board. “I have explained that I grew up being bred and trained to be strong. I knew that if I was weak, it could cost my family and my clan their lives. There were always rival warlords and rampaging beasts to protect the clan from. I live by my sword.”

“You aren’t fighting rival warlords anymore, Nero. And you’ve spent most of your adult life here on Carthago.”

“Fighting in the arena takes strength. And the House of Galen has always worked to help those unsuited to the arena escape it.”

Which had only underscored his belief that physical strength was king. Winter blew out a breath. “Let’s agree to disagree. Is there any news on Dayna and Mia?”

He gave one brief nod. “Everything leads to them being in the desert, but Zhim has word of a very slim lead. A possible sighting of Mia here in the city.”

Winter straightened. “You’re going to check it out?”

“Yes, as soon as we know where.”

“And you’ll try to track Mia?”

“Yes.”

She reached out and grabbed Nero’s arm. Damn, it was as hard as a rock. She snatched her hand back. “We have to do whatever it takes to find Dayna and Mia. We need to bring them home. They could be suffering—” her voice cracked.

Nero lifted his hand and ran his knuckles down her cheek. “It will be okay, Winter.”

His fingers were rough and the sensation left her belly fluttering. God, he was being nice to her. Winter wasn’t sure she could handle a nice Nero.

“We’ll find them. On that, we can both agree, for once.” His tone was dry.

“I want to help in any way I can. Maybe I could come on the search? I might notice something—”

The scowl reappeared. “I don’t like the idea of you out in the city.”

She made a scoffing noise. “That isn’t for you to decide. I’ve been an adult for a very long time, Nero.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “I am very aware of that.”

The air between them charged. Winter felt her belly tighten. He reached up and this time fingered a strand of her hair that had fallen loose.

Then he blinked and they both hurriedly stepped back, staring at each other.

“Quick,” she said. “Say something gruff and rude.”

That muscle in his jaw ticked again. “You are very annoying.”

Winter released a breath. “Phew, there you go.” That was a close call. For a second, she wanted to touch Nero.

“Winter!” Rory’s shout. “Come and dance.”

Winter raised a hand to her friend. Dancing was just the thing she needed. “Enjoy the rest of the party.”

Nero scowled. “I’m sure I won’t.”

That made her smile. She turned her back on him and went to join her friends.

Chapter Four

Nero’s sword crashed against Raiden’s blade. The two men spun on the sand of the training arena, Raiden’s red cloak flaring out behind him.

They attacked again, and Nero used his advantage of size and power to force Raiden back. But the champion of the Kor Magna Arena was well-trained, experienced, and filled with gritty determination.

They moved in a set of complicated steps and swings. He and Raiden had been working together on some new moves. Nero was always trying to learn new skills and improve his sword technique.

On the other side of the training arena, he saw a flash of red and cream. He glanced up and saw Winter moving along the walkway circling the arena.

She was wearing a red shirt and cream skirts that reminded him of the robes the Hermia healers wore.

Suddenly, he felt a sting across his chest. Raiden had run his sword tip across Nero’s skin.

With a curse, blood running down his chest, Nero slammed the man’s sword away.

“Distractions can be deadly,” Raiden warned.

Nero heaved out a breath. He knew better than anyone that even a momentary lapse in concentration could mean serious injury or death. He lifted his sword, watching the sunlight glinting off the metal.

In that moment, another movement caught his gaze, and he looked up to see Galen striding across the training arena with a flap of his black cloak. As always, their imperator wore a tight, black shirt that covered his arms. There were hints of his intricate Aurelian tattoos peeking out at his neck and wrists, but usually he didn’t show them off like Raiden did.

“Zhim confirmed the sighting of Mia.” Galen’s single ice-blue eye glittered.

“It was her?” Raiden asked.

Galen nodded.

Nero stepped forward. “He has a location?”

Galen nodded again. “And he chased up Rillian’s information about the Thraxians being at war with someone. He’s on the screen in the living area.”

Nero shared a look with Raiden, and the three of them wasted no time striding toward the building. When they stepped into the living area of the high-level gladiators, they found the women all huddled at the table, and the other gladiators were standing nearby. Thorin had his large hands resting on Regan’s shoulders. Harper was pacing by the table, and Lore was sitting beside Madeline, idly toying with her hair. Rory sat at the table, eating a plate of what looked like Taurean gamma-berries while Kace watched her indulgently.

Winter sat quietly at the end of the table. She looked tense.

Before he realized what he was doing, he headed in her direction. At the last second, he stopped himself from reaching out to touch her. Instead, he leaned against the wall behind her. He had no business going to her, or trying to ease her worry. She’d likely just tell him to leave her alone, anyway.

A large screen on the wall flashed and Zhim’s face appeared. He was sitting in a room filled with screens and electronics.

“Good day to you all,” Zhim drawled. “How is everyone at the House of Galen today?”

Galen stepped forward and sank into a chair at the head of the table. “What have you got for us, Zhim?”

The information merchant’s face turned serious. “I can confirm that two small women were stolen from the Thraxian-Srinar convoy in the desert just over a week ago.”

“God.” Rory pressed her hands over the mound of her belly. “Why?”

Zhim lifted a shoulder. “I don’t have that information. All I know is that they were snatched off the convoy, and from the reports I’ve received, not too far from the edge of the city.”

Galen looked at Winter. “Do you remember anything happening not long after the convoy left the city?”

She swallowed. “I was scared and couldn’t see anything.” Her brow creased in concentration. “I do remember stopping for a bit, and the guards shouting. But that’s it.”

“I confirmed Rillian’s lead that the Thraxians are at war with someone. Apparently, one of their clients, someone they were selling slaves to. He was unhappy with the quality of the goods. The Thraxians refused to replace or refund the slaves they’d provided the client, and he decided to extract payback.”

“Who?” Galen’s tone was dark. “I want a name.”

“I don’t know, yet.”

Nero heard true regret in Zhim’s voice. The man could be arrogant and annoying, but lately, Nero had caught glimpses that the man was not quite the mercenary merchant he made himself out to be.

“All I know is that this client is known as Catalyst.” Zhim snorted. “Sounds like someone has a high opinion of himself, or herself.”

“Zhim?” Galen stared at the screen. “The location where Mia was spotted?”

“It was in the Tibur section of Kor Magna.”

“The factory area?” Galen said. “Why would someone take stolen slaves there? Most of the factories run autonomously.”

Nero hated the Tibur section of the city. Giant, noisy factories full of moving machinery.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Zhim answered. “I am still narrowing down the exact factory where she was seen. I should know soon.”

“Tell me as soon as you have it,” Galen said. “Anything else?”

“I’m sorry, no. The few sources that I suspect know of this Catalyst won’t talk.” Anger vibrated in the man’s voice. It was clear Zhim wasn’t used to not being given the information he wanted.

“I’ll wait for your call,” Galen said.

Zhim nodded and the screen blinked out. Galen steepled his fingers under his chin. “I’ll talk to our contacts, but I also want all of you to ask around.”

Nero knew everyone was already doing that. So far, no one had any clue as to where Dayna and Mia might be.

“Where are they?” Regan said, her voice hitching. Thorin pulled his woman into his arms.

“All right.” Galen stood. “I suggest everyone keep busy while we wait.” He looked at Nero. “Be ready as soon as we know where this factory is.”

Nero nodded, and watched Galen spin and stalk out.

Suddenly, Winter appeared in front of Nero. “You’re bleeding.”

He frowned at her. “I’m fine.”

“I can smell it.”

“A minor cut.” He gestured at his chest.

“Come down to Medical and I’ll clean it up.” She turned in a whirl of skirts.

Nero stared at the door for several seconds, before he sighed and followed her. Soon, he walked through the double doors into Medical. A Hermia healer gave him a respectful nod.

“Sit here, please,” Winter said in a brisk voice.

He had trouble believing she was a doctor. Warlord or commander made more sense. He dropped down on the narrow bed, and she stepped closer, lifting a scanner.

“Can you read what it says?” he asked.

“No. Even with the vision device, it’s hard for me to read for too long.” She ran the beeping machine over his chest. “But Rory adapted this one for me. It gives all the results verbally.”

Sure enough, the scanner spoke to Winter in a modulated tone. She set the device down.

“Minor cuts. You just need some med gel.”

“Told you.”

She snorted. “Something tells me you could be bleeding out and missing limbs, and you’d still say you were fine. A barbarian can’t be weak.” She leaned over and grabbed a tube of med gel.

Nero grabbed her wrist. “Winter.”

She tugged her hand free, and spread the gel across his chest. Her touch was smooth and gentle, and he stiffened. As her small hands moved over his skin, he felt the touch through his entire body. Drak, he wondered what they’d feel like if she was exploring him, not healing him.

Frowning, he stomped on that thought.

She stepped back. “All done.” She turned and started tidying items on the tray.

“Thank you.” He studied her bowed head. “I am glad that the vision device allows you to do your work again.”

She looked up. “Me too. I can’t do everything. I can’t see enough detail for surgery, but I’m learning and adapting.”

He heard the sadness in her voice, buried under her grim determination. Nero respected that. For a long time, he’d been an angry, reckless mess in the arena, until he’d finally found a way to embrace his new life. Winter was far ahead of where he’d been, at the time.

Suddenly, the doors to Medical slammed open. Two gladiators strode in, carrying a new recruit between them. The injured gladiator-in-training had a huge, bleeding gash on his arm.

“Stay there,” Winter ordered Nero. “I want to check the med gel is finished before you leave.” Her gaze was already on her new patient.

She rushed over to help, talking with the Hermia healers who joined her. As the gladiators set the groaning, thrashing recruit down on the bed, Nero watched Winter speak in a calming, soothing voice to the man.

It didn’t take long before the young man had turned his head toward Winter. He calmed, responding to her questions. He finally stilled, and let the healers start treating his wound.

When Winter smoothed a hand over the man’s hair, Nero ground his teeth together. Surely, she didn’t need to touch the man that much. He got a glimpse of the man’s injury and saw a flash of bone. Nero guessed the recruit would end up in one of the regen tanks. He’d spent more than his fair share of time in them himself.

Sure enough, the Hermia gestured for the gladiators to help the man to one of the tanks. Winter hurried back Nero’s way.

She peered at his chest. “Okay, barbarian. You’ll live.”

Nero raised a brow. “I heard the ‘unfortunately’ you didn’t say.”

Her milky eyes met his. “I don’t want you dead.”

The doors opened again and Harper strode in. “Zhim found the factory where Mia was seen.”

Winter reached out and grabbed Nero’s hand. He didn’t think she realized she’d done it. “We’ll be right there,” he told Harper.

“You’ll go and try to find her,” Winter said, a plea in her eyes.

“Yes.” He squeezed her hand. “But Winter, it’s a days-old trail in an industrial area of the city that has lots of transports in and out of it.”

She blew out a breath. “The likelihood of picking anything up is slim.” Then she straightened. “What if you had someone with enhanced senses?”

He frowned. “My senses are already enhanced, as are Thorin’s. I don’t believe your senses are stronger—”

“Not me. Blue.”

He frowned. “Blue?”

“The blue-skinned alien rescued from the underground fight rings. He’s got some sort of bond with Mia. I’m still not sure if that bond is healthy, but I don’t doubt that the man wants Mia back safely. He’s very motivated to find and help her, and his senses are very good. I think he could find a trail of Mia, old or not.”

Nero’s brows drew together. “He’s dangerous and uncontrollable.”

“I can help with that. I’ve been working with him, and he listens to me.”

Take her out into the city, and into the factory district. Everything inside him revolted at the idea.

“It isn’t safe.”

She made a scoffing sound. “Me being surrounded by the gladiators of the House of Galen isn’t safe?”

He stared at her, knowing any argument he tried would get tossed back at him. “Winter—”

“Please. Just mention it to Galen.” She tugged Nero off the bunk. “Come on.”

Together, they hurried to Galen’s office. When they stepped inside, Nero saw the imperator standing near the window, his hands clasped behind his back. Raiden, Thorin, and the others were there, as well.

Galen turned. “A small blonde woman was spotted in the Remus factory. Zhim tells me that this Catalyst is known to frequent this factory.”

“What does it make?” Raiden asked.

“Electronics.” Galen’s gaze swung to Nero. “I need you to go down there and see what you can find.”

Nero nodded. “I’ll do what I can, but it’s an old trail in a busy, dirty area…it won’t be easy.” He took a deep breath, not quite understanding why he was going to do this. “Winter also had a good idea. She suggested taking the blue alien with us. He has good senses and is attuned to Mia’s scent.”

Galen frowned. “He’s unstable. He could hurt someone—”

Winter stepped forward. “I’ve been spending time with him. He listens to me, and I’ve told him that if he wanted to help find Mia, he needed to work on his control.” She threaded her hands together. “He’s very attached to Mia. He recently escaped his cell and followed her scent straight to Mia’s room. If there’s any sign of her at this factory, Blue could help Nero find it.”

Galen’s scowl deepened. “I don’t like the idea of taking a dangerous man who’s been treated like an animal, who has shaky control at best, into the city. If he escapes and hurts somebody—”

“He listens to me,” Winter said. “I can help keep him calm. Let me come.”

Nero’s chest tightened. He wanted to argue, and tell her it was too dangerous. He curled his hands into fists.

“If he goes wild—” Galen continued.

Winter lifted a hand. “Even though I don’t like the idea, I can take sedatives in case of an emergency.”

“I can’t risk arming him,” Galen said. “No weapons.”

“Of course.”

A moment of silence, then Galen nodded. “Do it. Winter, you and Blue will accompany me, Nero, Raiden, and Thorin to the factory.”

Nero saw Winter break out in a smile. But inside he wasn’t smiling. No, now he had two jobs to do: find Mia and Dayna, and protect Winter.

Chapter Five

Winter finished pulling on her trousers and tucking her shirt in. She turned to face the mirror in her bedroom. She was more than a little nervous about heading out.

The House of Galen had become a safe, familiar world for her, but it was time to flex her wings. She touched the vision device on her temple. She was still getting used to it, but she couldn’t procrastinate any longer. She’d never succeed in making a new life on this planet if she let her vision, her fear, or her nightmares stop her from trying new things.

But the thought of being out there, in the massive alien city of Kor Magna, had anxiety rising inside her.

She blew out a breath. Then another one. She wasn’t doing this for herself, but for Dayna and Mia. Those two women had helped her survive the horror of their captivity. They’d protected her, fed her, held her hand in the darkness. She wasn’t abandoning them.

Winter snatched up a small pouch and clipped it to her belt. It contained several shots of the strongest sedative the Hermia had in Medical. They’d assured her it was safe to use on Blue, but her stomach cramped. She really didn’t want to have to use it. The man had suffered enough.

Stiffening her spine, Winter headed out of her room. She spotted a large figure leaning against the wall near her door.

“Nero.” He dominated the corridor. The man was just too big and brawny. His scent tickled her senses—musk and man.

“I’ll take you down to get Blue,” he said.

He fell into step beside her as they walked through the corridors to the cell area where Blue stayed. No one was happy that he was locked up, but when he’d first arrived, he’d had a lot of trouble adjusting, and Mia’s abduction hadn’t helped.

“You’re nervous,” Nero said.

Damn the man and his observant tracker skills. “Yes. Heading out into the city is a little daunting.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t come.”

Of course, he wouldn’t want her on this mission. She stopped and spun around to face him. “I’m coming. I’m not—”

He grabbed her hands. “Hold your tongue, Winter. I just meant, if it is too difficult for you, you should give yourself some time. Try again later.”

She stared at him. What he’d said was…understanding. She was starting to realize that she leaped all over Nero’s words a lot. Maybe what he’d said earlier was true. She imbued his words with her own fears and doubts.

“I can do this, Nero. Whatever it takes to find Dayna and Mia.”

He nodded, and she thought she spotted a glint of admiration in his eyes. His fingers rubbed against her wrists and her pulse leaped.

“I have something for you,” he said, his voice gruff.

She raised a brow. “Oh?”

He pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to her. “You’re too small for a sword, but you need something for protecting yourself.”

She blinked. It was a small, sheathed knife. She took it from him.

“Later, I will show you how to use it—”

Winter pulled the knife from the sheath and checked the blade. It was scalpel sharp. She tested the weight of it in her hand, getting a feel for the hilt.

Nero cocked his head. “You know how to wield a knife?”

She smiled. “I was a surgeon, Nero. Knives were my business. I got into collecting as a hobby.” She moved the knife, lightning fast.

She saw him tense and she stopped, the blade a whisper from his hard jaw. One single dark bristle fell between them.

“Thank you.” As Winter slipped the knife back into the sheath, she looked into his eyes, expecting to see irritation. Instead she saw something else entirely.

Oh, God. Heat flushed through her. His gaze bored into hers and she saw something hot in it.

She took a step back. “A woman flashing a knife at you gets you hot and bothered?”

He matched her step. His gaze dropping to her lips.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly she was going up on her toes and his arm was wrapping around her. He lowered his head and his lips pressed to hers. She gasped and he took advantage, his tongue sweeping inside.

Oh, God. The kiss was so good.

It wasn’t sweet or polished, it was hard, a little rough and real. Desire pooled in her belly, arrowing between her legs. Her hands clenched on his leather harness, brushing warm skin. She kissed him back.

With a growl, Nero swung her around and her feet left the ground. Winter found herself caught between the cool stone wall and a hard body. He tasted like frustrated, brooding man and she sucked on his tongue. She felt his hips grind against her belly and God, she felt the hard ridge of his erection.

Moaning, she dug her fingers into his skin. She needed more. Sensations flooded her body, warming places she hadn’t even realized were cold. Nero angled his head to kiss her deeper and his stubble brushed against her cheeks. He groaned, a deep rumble of sound, and caught her bottom lip between his teeth.

Winter trembled, and for the first time in so long, felt normal and whole. In this instant, she was just a woman, kissing a big, sexy man.

Suddenly, voices sounded nearby. Nero went stiff.

Winter did the same. Oh, my God, she’d been kissing Nero.

They hastily broke apart, staring at each other. She stayed against the wall, waiting for her balance to right itself and her brain to start functioning again. He looked like she’d just smacked him in the head—half dazed, half horrified.

God, she’d kissed Nero.

Winter ran a hand through her mussed hair. “Ah…let’s just call this a momentary lapse in judgment.”

His brow creased. “A lapse?”

“Yes. You and I—” she waved a hand between them “—no. Just no.”

His face morphed into a full-scale scowl. “Winter—”

“I like cultured, refined men,” she said.

“I like quiet, athletic women.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Good. We’re on the same page, then.”

Confusion crossed his face. “The same page?”

“An Earth saying. We agree.”

He snorted. “You and I never agree.”

Two young gladiators rounded the corner. When they saw Nero, they straightened, awe creeping into their gazes. As they walked past, they nodded at Nero, and one of the young men looked at Winter and smiled.

She smoothed her hands down her trousers. “Ah, we’d better get Blue.” She spun and hurried down the corridor.

“Winter.” Nero grabbed her arm.

“What?”

He looked at her, his face unreadable. “You’re going the wrong way.”

She looked and realized she was heading in the opposite direction of the cells. She felt heat in her cheeks. “Right. I knew that.”

They were silent as they headed to the cell area. As she entered, the guard on duty nodded at her. The guards were used to her coming down to check on the alien.

“Mia?” a deep voice growled from a nearby cell.

“No, Blue. It’s Winter.”

The guard opened the door, and she stepped inside. Nero was a big presence close at her back.

Blue stood on the other side of the simple cell. It had strong, stone walls, a single, narrow bunk, and a small bathroom area cordoned off in one corner. The man was big, with tightly-packed muscles, built for power and speed. His skin was a deep blue, and he was covered in dark swirls that looked like tattoos. Winter had been fascinated to discover that members of his species were born with the markings. Strong emotion turned them darker. His black hair and beard were long and tangled, and she hadn’t been able to convince him to let anyone trim them yet.

His eyes looked pale and Harper had told her that they glowed a deep gold, like antique coins. That gaze went straight to Nero, Blue’s muscles bunching.

“He’s a member of the House of Galen,” she said quietly. “He’s here to help find Mia.”

“Hunter,” Blue growled.

“I am,” Nero answered.

“We have a place to look for her,” Winter continued. “A place where someone saw her.”

The alien man’s eyes flashed. Suddenly, he charged toward Winter.

Before she could react, Nero stepped in front of her, moving faster than she’d thought possible. He slammed an arm out to stop the alien man.

Blue growled.

“Don’t touch her,” Nero said darkly.

The tension in the cell spiked with masculine aggression.

Winter stepped around Nero, trying to move between the men. “It’s okay, Nero. Blue often moves suddenly and quickly. He’s never hurt me before.” She touched Nero’s arm, feeling the hard, tense muscles beneath her fingertips. She held a hand up to Blue. “Everyone just stay calm.”

Finally, Blue stepped back, his gaze still zeroed in on Nero.

“Blue, if you agree to stay calm and follow Galen’s orders, the imperator has given permission for you to come and search for any sign of Mia.”

Blue went unnaturally still, then he gave a single nod.

“If she…has been there—” Blue’s voice was deep and rusty from lack of use “—I will find her.”

“No sudden moves,” Nero warned. “And if you hurt Winter, I will end you.”

Winter rolled her eyes. Men.

“I will not hurt Winter. Friend.”

When they stepped out of the cell, she found herself flanked by the two big men. How her life had changed from her time on Earth. Here she was, a blue-skinned alien man on her left, and a barbarian gladiator on her right.

A barbarian gladiator you kissed, a sly voice in her head reminded her. She huffed out a breath. She was not thinking about that right now.

They took the wide, circular stone stairs to the upper levels. Near the front doors, Galen was waiting for them, with Raiden and Thorin.

Spotting the men, Blue bristled.

“Easy,” Winter murmured. “You know Galen. And Raiden and Thorin are two of his best gladiators.”

The imperator studied Blue. “You’ll follow my orders?”

Blue’s hands clenched into fists. “I will find Mia.”

“I need your word you will control yourself and do as I say.” Galen’s tone was edged in command. It made Winter want to snap to attention.

“You have taken me in. Treated me well. You protect Mia and her friends.” Blue bowed his head. “I will do what you say to find Mia.”

“Let’s go,” the imperator ordered.

Winter listened to the creak of the metal hinges on the doors as the guards opened them. As they navigated the tunnels out of the arena, she listened to the heavy footsteps of the gladiators and the chatter of the people they passed—workers, people going about their business, gladiators from other Houses.

But when they stepped out of the Kor Magna Arena and into the city streets, sounds, smells, sights, and sensations bombarded Winter, disorienting her. The District lay ahead—large, garishly lit, futuristic buildings that speared into the sky. She knew they housed casinos, pleasure houses, entertainment shows. It was a playground for the visitors who came to Kor Magna for the arena, and stayed for all the other vices and pleasures. There were people everywhere.

She closed her eyes and felt warm wind rush over her face. She heard a mass of voices. She smelled so many scents she couldn’t separate them.

“We have a short walk to the factory,” Galen said. “It’s near the eastern edge of the city.”

They moved in a tight group. Raiden and Thorin in the lead, Galen and Blue in the center, and Winter and Nero at the back. Blue looked unhappy, his broad shoulders hunched, but he looked in control.

Winter tried to stay calm, even with the sensory overload. She didn’t want to slow them down. She was grateful they weren’t heading directly into the busy District, but they were passing pretty close to it. The streets were crowded, and even with many people giving the gladiators a wide berth, lots still jostled her and bumped into her. She took a step closer to Nero, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Damn crowds,” Nero grumbled.

Apparently, barbarian gladiators didn’t like lots of people, either.

Her hand bumped against the small bag of sedatives on her belt. She felt the pouch fall.

Oh, no. As it dropped, she ducked, and snatched it back up. Nero hadn’t noticed and had moved ahead of her. She fastened the bag back to her belt.

As she stood there, someone barreled into her from behind, spinning her. She got the impression of a big, male body, and then they bumped an arm against her head, and her vision device.

Everything went black, and she heard the metallic plink as the device hit the ground.

Her chest tightened into a knot. She couldn’t see a thing.

The world wasn’t completely black, more like shades of gray, but all of the outlines of everything around her had disappeared.

Panic grew, an ugly, clawing feeling in her throat. She knelt, slapping the ground with her hands, trying to find the device. She was horribly aware that she was surrounded by strangers, in a place she didn’t know.

The others would realize she was missing. They’d find her. She pulled in some deep breaths. In the meantime, she kept searching the ground. No vision device.

“Nero?” she called out.

No response.

“Galen?”

Nothing. Someone else bumped into her, knocking her onto her hands and knees.

You’re fine, Winter. The others will find you.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar male voice drawled.

She felt hands grab her shoulders and jerk her to her feet. “Excuse me, my friends were just here, I—”

“You’re blind.”

“You’re very observant. Look, my friends—”

Rough hands patted inappropriately down her body. “Give me your coins and credits.”

She tried to pull back. “Leave me alone!”

Winter was sick of people thinking she couldn’t take care of herself. She shoved against her attacker. He grunted, and she heard the sound of him stumbling.

“Believe me, you are going to wish you hadn’t touched me, asshole,” she snapped.

“You’re all alone and helpless.” Cruel hands bit into her arms once more.

“No, I’m not.” She brought her knee up, ramming it between his legs.

***

Nero suddenly realized that Winter was no longer beside him.

He spun, searching the moving crowd. He couldn’t see her. He charged back through the sea of beings, looking for her dark head. The sound of a male voice crying out caught his ear.

He turned his head just in time to see someone nearby stumble and flail. He was a red-skinned Traal.

That’s when Nero spotted a disheveled Winter, her fists raised. She was looking from side to side, not looking at the Traal directly. Nero frowned. By the blade, her vision device was gone. The Traal bared his teeth and took a menacing step toward her.

Rage exploded. With a growl, Nero grabbed the man’s shirt and yanked him away from her.

“Drakking—” The Traal looked up at Nero and his face blanched.

“Did you touch her?”

The man’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Did you touch her?”

This time, the Traal whimpered. Nero slammed a fist into the man’s gut. He doubled over, and Nero followed with a hard chop to the man’s back. He collapsed on the ground.

Nero scowled. That wasn’t very satisfying. He leaned down to drag the man back up—

“Nero?”

Winter’s voice stopped him. She reached out and gripped his hand, then she let out a shuddering breath.

“Are you okay?” he asked, fighting his rage down.

“I am now.”

He yanked her into his body. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, rubbing her face against his chest. “Someone bumped into me and knocked my vision device off.”

He glanced around and spotted it, not far away. He leaned down. “I found it.” He brushed her silky hair back and touched the device to her temple.

Instantly, he felt her tense body relax. “Thank you.”

Nero looked back at the Traal. “Get out of here before I rip your arms and legs off.”

The man turned and ran.

Anger churning, he looked down at Winter. “You should never have come on this trip.”

Her smile evaporated. “Not this again.”

“You could have been hurt—”

“I wasn’t. In fact, I hurt the asshole who underestimated me.” Her gaze narrowed on Nero.

Drak. Couldn’t she see he just wanted to protect her?

“Thanks for the help, barbarian. Sorry I slowed you down.” She stomped toward Galen and the others, who had turned back to see where they’d gone.

Nero looked toward the sky, and cursed himself and his choice of words. He just couldn’t say the right things to this woman. As he joined the others, Winter completely ignored him. He tried to tamp down on his frustration, staring at the back of Winter’s head.

Seeing that Traal pawing at her… He dragged in a deep breath.

Nero could still taste her on his lips. Kissing Winter had been…much more pleasurable than it should have been. He hunched his shoulders. It was a mistake. Letting someone in meant lowering your guard, losing control. Nero knew better than that.

Living at the House of Galen, training and fighting with his fellow gladiators, had taught him control. On Symeria, barbarian children were taught to embrace their rage, and use their emotions to make them wilder and stronger. But Galen and the others had taught Nero that wilder and stronger weren’t always the smartest options in a fight.

None of this mattered right now. Winter didn’t want or appreciate his protection. The woman was determined to do everything herself.

After a few moments, the crowds dissipated, and the shops and houses gave way to larger, industrial-type buildings.

“There it is,” Galen said.

Nero forced his thoughts onto the mission. He stared up at the factory buildings towering over them. Huge tanks of all different sizes, some looming high, some short and squat, were also scattered around them. Nearby, large turbines spun, no doubt generating some sort of power for the factory. There were moving parts and clouds of steam hissed and rattled. The noise reverberated in his ears. He hated it. The harsh, metallic smells, the loud noises, it all washed through Nero, dulling his senses.

Nearby, Blue shifted restlessly, his face tight. Nero glanced at Winter and wondered how she felt.

As they neared the entrance, a shadow detached itself from between two tanks. Nero shoved Winter behind him. Blue bent his legs, falling into an attack stance. Thorin, Raiden, and Galen drew their weapons. Nero gripped his sword.

But the man who stepped into the light wasn’t an enemy but an ally.

“Galen,” the man said, his cool voice deep and emotionless.

“Magnus.”

As the two imperators greeted each other, clasping forearms, Nero took stock of Magnus Rone, Imperator of the House of Rone.

They were the House of Galen’s closest allies. The two houses had met numerous times in the arena, and were closely matched. Rone hired good gladiators and trained them well. They were always a challenge on the sand.

Magnus had short, dark hair and a powerful build. He was a skilled fighter, but he was banned from the arena because he was a cyborg. His left arm was made entirely of silver metal, and one of his eyes glowed a neon blue. Nero had to admit he found the man disconcerting, because he sensed very little from him. He made no sound, gave off very little scent, and left no trail. He was formidable prey.

“What are you doing here?” Galen asked.

The cyborg’s blue eye glowed. “Zhim’s informant was a House of Rone worker. She saw both your women here over a week ago. Bound and gagged.”

“What took her so long to report it?” Raiden asked.

“She was unaware the women had been claimed by the House of Galen. Workers are used to keeping their mouths shut, and keeping out of business that does not involve them. It wasn’t until Zhim started asking questions that my worker came forward and shared what she’d seen. She’s trustworthy.” The man looked at them all. “I’d like to offer my help. I have the schematics of the factory.”

“Where?” Thorin asked.

Magnus tapped the side of his head. Nero wondered what other enhancements the man had, ones they couldn’t see.

The imperator waved them toward a doorway. Winter stepped gingerly inside behind Galen. As Nero entered, a wash of steam hit his face. The air inside was moist and humid.

“There are very few workers in the factory,” Magnus said. “Most of the systems are automated.”

Tanks, pieces of equipment and conveyor belts filled the large factory. Nearby, a large piece of equipment thumped hard, along with another. Something mechanical whined and more steam rose up around them.

Nero stepped closer to Winter, watching as she moved carefully over the metal-grate floor. Her steps were slow and deliberate, and he guessed she couldn’t see very well inside.

A second later, she tripped over something, and he grabbed her to keep her from landing on her face.

He righted her. “Hold my arm.” He held it out to her.

“Something in here is messing with my vision device. Everything’s a little muddled.” She eyed his arm and hesitated.

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“That’s rich coming from you, but fine,” she snapped, reaching out to take his arm.

Nero liked the feel of her small hand on his arm. They followed Magnus and Galen up a set of steps, and soon, they were heading down a long walkway. He saw the way she kept glancing at Blue. The alien man looked very uncomfortable being in such a noisy, smelly place but was holding it together.

From the walkway, they had a perfect view across the factory floor—tanks, conveyor belts, and moving equipment.

“Here.” Magnus pushed open a door and led them into a corridor off the main factory floor. The walls were all unpainted stone. “My sensors detect the faint record of two females being escorted through here.”

Galen swung around. “Nero.”

With a nod, he released Winter’s arm and stepped into the corridor. He pulled in a deep breath and studied the ground. He walked around the tight space. There was a layer of dust on the floor, but it had been disturbed, and there were many footprints. All far too large to be a woman from Earth.

Finally, he spotted a smaller footprint. He crouched down. It was only a partial print, but it looked like it was made by a female with bare feet. He touched the center of the print. He couldn’t detect any scent of Mia or Dayna.

“There is a female footprint here.” Studying the ground, he let his instincts take over. He moved down the corridor, following the trail. They moved through several turns and corridors. He spotted a small handprint on the wall. More small footprints. A short strand of blonde hair.

Then he reached a junction covered in footprints and the drag marks of cargo being moved through.

He looked up at his imperator and shook his head. “I’ve lost the trail. There are too many other prints, and no scent.”

“Blue.” Winter stepped forward and held out a hand to the alien. The blue-skinned man approached.

He stopped beside Nero and sniffed.

His body stiffened. He dropped down, almost pressing his face to the dirty floor. Then he stood, moving toward the wall, and running his hands over it.

He moved a few more steps and dragged in some deep breaths. Then, without warning, he turned and took off down a corridor at a sprint.

“Blue!” Winter yelled.

The curses of the others echoed off the walls.

“Don’t lose him!” Galen ordered.

“Stay with Winter,” Nero called to his imperator. Then he exploded into a run.

A body moved up beside him. Magnus. Together, they sprinted after Blue.

They couldn’t let him get away.

Chapter Six

Winter carefully followed Galen. There was so much noise around her and interference was messing with her vision device. She hated it here.

She kept searching for any sign of the others, and finally, she saw Nero’s big form ahead.

Thorin, Raiden, Nero, and Magnus stood in a group, watching as Blue paced along the corridor lined with large doors. He was snarling, his face twisted in a wild mask.

“What is this place?” Winter asked. She studied the wide doors. They ranged from small to massive, and they were all closed. Nearby, she saw several cargo movers parked in a row. They reminded her of forklifts, except for the fact that they were hovering off the ground.

“Transport dock,” Galen answered.

“It looks like the women were loaded onto transports here,” Magnus said.

Her heart clenched. Which meant they could have been taken anywhere.

“Can you follow the scent trail?” Galen’s gaze moved between Nero and Blue.

Nero shook his head. “It’s too old, and it’s impossible to follow a transport.”

Galen’s jaw tightened. “I’ll have Zhim find all the transport logs. We’ll see what transports left here, and where they were headed.”

“This Catalyst lives in the desert, somewhere,” Magnus said. “He only comes to the city to get supplies, components, and slaves.”

“Why would he need so many slaves?” Winter asked. The idea that anyone would think they had the right to own another individual made her blood boil. But it seemed this Catalyst was a loner. Why did he require a steady flow of people? “Does he sell them to the Zaabha Arena?”

“We don’t know,” Magnus said. “The man works very hard to obscure his identity.”

“I don’t care.” Galen’s voice was as sharp as a blade. “We are going to find Dayna and Mia. If he’s hurt them…then Catalyst will regret crossing the House of Galen.”

Suddenly, Blue tossed back his head and let out a wild howl. It echoed off the walls around them and speared through Winter’s chest. It was filled with such anger and sorrow. The man spun and attacked the nearest door, tearing the metal apart with his bare hands.

Raiden and Nero leaped forward, grabbing Blue’s arms, trying to subdue him. The alien fought them, letting out another wounded roar.

Winter ran to him. “Blue, we’ll find her. We have a lead. We won’t stop.”

“Mia. Hurt.” His deep voice was barely more than a harsh growl.

“Winter, step back,” Nero said.

She shook her head. “He won’t hurt me.” She was a doctor and Blue was in pain. She needed to help him. “We don’t know that Mia is hurt—”

“Mia’s blood.” Blue gestured at the floor.

Winter frowned and looked down. She spotted a darker patch of color on the floor, but couldn’t get enough detail. Nero brushed against her as he went down on one knee. He touched the patch.

He looked up, face grim. “It’s dried and faint. But it’s blood.”

“We’ll find her.” Tentatively, Winter reached out a hand, stroking it down Blue’s muscled arm. “It’s not much. We have to have hope that she’s okay.” Winter kept murmuring to him, talking about Mia, and keeping her voice calm and soothing. She felt Nero watching her.

Finally, Blue’s shoulders slumped. He looked at Winter with pain swirling in his eyes. “Mia.”

“We’ll find her. Galen’s promised.”

“I think it’s time we leave.” Galen speared Blue with a hard look. “Do you have it together?”

Blue nodded.

The gladiators moved together, heading back toward the exit. As Winter stepped in behind Blue, a flash of relief filled her. She would be very happy to be out of this place.

They passed some loud, thumping equipment. Every time the giant hammers slammed down, the sound was deafening and the vibration ricocheted through her body. A cloud of steam puffed rhythmically over them.

She brushed up against a metal structure, and stopped in her tracks, as her shirt caught on something. She muttered a curse, trying to free it. A huge cloud of steam filled the air.

Suddenly she heard shouts and the clash of swords.

“Take them down!” Galen roared.

She saw shapes moving through the steam. They were under attack.

She yanked harder and felt the fabric tear. She put her hand on the knife at her belt, and kept trying to free her caught shirt. She had to see if she could help the others.

Then, she heard something. A high-pitched, beeping sound.

She swiveled her head, peering at some nearby storage tanks. All she saw were the shiny metal surfaces, and the dark shadows between them. The sound was coming from that direction.

More beeps. She squinted, wishing she could see more clearly. There.

Her heart knocked against her ribs. Something moved in the shadows between the tanks.

Screw her shirt. She gave a hard tug, and ripped it free. She started moving toward the others. The sound of fighting had intensified.

But Winter had barely taken two steps when something rammed into her lower back.

She pitched forward, but something sharp dug into the back of her shirt, breaking her fall. A cold and metallic object scraped against her skin.

Struggling, Winter turned her head, straining for a glimpse. She gasped. Her attacker was a robot.

The main body was made of a sleek, dark metal and shaped like a dome, roughly twice the size of her head. It was floating at chest level, with several arms dangling beneath it. It made her think of some sort of robotic jellyfish.

Two of the many arms had claws attached, and they were gripping her shirt.

“Help!” she shouted.

But she knew instantly that no one would hear her. Her shout was drowned out by the machinery and fighting.

She elbowed the robot, and pain shot up her arm. Ow. A row of blue lights flickered on its head. She kept struggling, gripping one arm, and trying to tear it away.

The blue lights flared brighter, seconds before an electric jolt shot through Winter.

Her teeth snapped together and pain flared, searing all her nerve endings. Her vision went white, and she sagged against the robot.

She had to have lost consciousness for a moment or two, because suddenly, she felt herself moving, and she blinked a few times, trying to clear her head. Her vision returned to the normal shades of blue, and her brain caught up to her surroundings. The robot was dragging her across the factory.

In the opposite direction to Nero and the others.

She kicked her legs, sliding her feet across the ground. Anything to leave a trail. Nero would come looking for her. She had to leave him something to follow.

What else could she do? She reached up and grabbed the tiny, flat, button-like fastenings on her shirt. She ripped one off, and dropped it.

She tore another off and another.

The robot dragged her in amongst the tanks and her vision dimmed in the shadows.

Please find me, Nero.

***

Machinery clanged loudly in his ear, and as another cloud of steam hit Nero’s face, he ran his sword through his attacker.

Sparks exploded in his face. Drak. He yanked his sword back.

The man he’d beaten was wearing metallic armor. He fell to the ground, his helmet retracting. It showed a man with wires and chips attached to his head. His eyes were a glowing neon green, but the color slowly faded away.

What the drak? He looked over at the others. They’d taken down the other assailants. Blue had ripped the arms off one of them.

Nero looked over his shoulder. He didn’t see Winter and he hoped to hell she’d hidden herself well.

Magnus was crouched by one of the fallen men. “They’re cyborgs.” He lifted his silver arm and two small probes extended from the back of his hand. He shoved it into the fallen attacker’s neck.

Nero watched as one of Magnus’ eyes glowed bright blue. “They are heavily enhanced to the point they have no autonomy or independent thought. They’re programmed.”

“By who?” Galen demanded.

“I can’t access that information.” Magnus’ voice had turned monotone.

“What was their mission?” Nero asked.

Magnus looked up at him with his scary blank face. “To attack and distract us.”

“Distract us?” Nero frowned, then his muscles locked. He strode back the way they’d come. “Winter?”

She wasn’t there.

“Winter!” Frantically, he looked around the nearby equipment and tanks. He called her name again, hearing his voice echo off the metal and steel around them.

Then he heard Galen’s harsh curse. Nero spun and saw the imperator crouched low, studying the floor.

“Scuff marks,” Galen said.

Nero strode over and knelt. “Drak.” He pressed his fingers to the marks. “She was taken. The attack was to distract us.”

For a second, he was twenty again, staring at the trail of the slavers who’d attacked and stolen his brother and sister right from under him. His father’s scathing, callous words about Nero’s failure rang in his ears. Another dark memory hit, his father’s emotionless face as he’d sacrificed Nero to the alien slavers.

Nero had been carted off in chains, despairing that he’d been forsaken by his family. He’d then spent weeks in the tight confines of a ship that had almost driven him insane. Overnight, he’d gone from a powerful fighter, one of his father’s heirs…to a slave.

If only he’d been better, stronger, faster…

He shook his head and thought of Winter. She’d been ripped violently from her world, tortured and wounded, yet still strong in a way he’d never appreciated before. He looked down at the marks on the floor.

He had to find her.

Nero focused on following the trail. “She was being dragged and was struggling.” He looked up, staring at the rows of endless tanks. Rage boiled up, and he growled low in his throat. Once again, someone had preyed on Winter.

He stood and stalked to the tanks. His jaw tightened. It was like a maze. Dozens of giant metal vats in row upon row.

“Who the hell would have taken her?” Thorin said.

Whoever they were, they were dead. Nero followed the trail. He spotted something shiny on the ground and snatched it up.

A fastener. He tilted it, trying to catch what dim light there was. It matched the ones he’d seen on Winter’s shirt and smelled of her.

He kept moving, and spotted another one ahead on the ground. Nero smiled. Clever girl. “She’s leaving a trail for us.” For him. I’ll find you.

As a group, they moved through the tanks. She had to be terrified, unable to see very much. She’d be waiting for them—for him—to find her.

Ahead, Nero heard noises. A mechanical beep, and then a woman’s angry voice.

“She’s ahead. Go that way.” He pointed down one row between the tanks. Then he pressed his palms to the metal of the nearest tank and started climbing.

“I’ll go.” Magnus’ deep voice reverberated off the tanks. The cyborg disappeared into the shadows.

Nero climbed, the force of his hands denting the metal under his hard grip. He pulled himself on top of the vessel, and then he leaped across to the next tank. And then the next and the next.

Finally, he saw a flash of movement below. He spotted Winter in the grip of some sort of robot.

The machine was pulling her behind it, despite her wild struggles.

No, you don’t. Nero leaped off the tank, pulling his sword from its sheath on his back. He landed not far from the robot, with a bend of his knees.

Winter’s head jerked up. “Nero!”

The robot moved faster, jerking her behind a tank.

Nero charged after them, the need to attack rushing through him. He raised his sword.

Laser fire lit up the darkness. With a curse, he dived out of the way. The robot was equipped with laser weapons.

“No!” Winter shouted.

The laser burned into the tank behind Nero and hot liquid rushed out. He leaped to his feet and dodged out of the way.

From behind the next tank, he heard the sound of a struggle. He hurried to catch them. He couldn’t let that damn machine take her.

Then he heard an electronic whine followed by several clunks. Metal on metal. What the hell was it doing to her?

He heard the others arrive, Galen shouting orders. Nero sprinted around the tanks, sword raised.

That’s when he saw Winter. She was walking toward him through the steam. His eyes widened. She was limping and dragging the remnants of the robot behind her.

She had a scrape down the side of her face, and held the knife he’d given her in her other hand. She stopped by Nero and dropped the mangled robot on the ground.

“Winter.” He reached out to touch her pale face.

“It shot at you. It tried to abduct me…again.” She kicked the robot. “I got mad.” She shot Nero a smile. “Told you I was good with a knife.”

***

Winter was well aware all the gladiators were staring at her.

“Maybe Rory can get something off that.” She nodded at the remains of the robot, trying to keep her voice level, and not show that she was more than a teensy bit rattled.

She felt a little dizzy, and the anger that had fueled her when she’d attacked the robot was waning.

It had ripped her shirt, scratched her, and then shot at Nero. She’d suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of fury.

“Winter.” Nero’s voice was a deep rumble.

Her pain and dizziness got worse, but she swallowed a few times. She didn’t want him to see her as weak. Again.

But when she took a step, her legs collapsed from under her. Nero caught her in brawny arms.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“You’re hurt.” He pulled her tight against his chest.

“No.” God, he was so hard and strong. And smelled so good. She pressed her cheek to his chest.

Suddenly, Blue appeared beside them. He sniffed. “Blood.”

Nero tensed.

Winter turned her head. “I’m okay—”

Nero started yanking at her torn shirt.

“Hey—” she protested.

He lifted the fabric, and Winter stared at the ragged scratches on her belly. She wrinkled her nose. Damn robot. “See? Not so bad.”

“We need to get her to Medical.” He spun, his gaze going to Galen. “She needs the healers.”

Winter opened her mouth to once again reassure them, but she saw Galen nod. “I want to get the drak out of here.” The imperator looked at Thorin. “Bring the robot.”

Deciding that arguing with alpha male gladiators wouldn’t get her very far, Winter simply leaned into Nero. Truth be told, she was too tired and achy to argue with them right now, anyway.

She felt the tension pumping off Nero. He was no doubt saving up for a big lecture about how she shouldn’t have come on this mission. She looked over his shoulder and saw Blue striding behind them. His big body moved with contained power, and he was watchful, but appeared to be handling everything okay.

When they stepped out into the hot Carthago sunlight, Winter released a breath. Nero was moving fast, his long strides eating up the distance back to the arena.

Before she knew it, they were back in the arena tunnels, and then passing through the doors of the House of Galen.

Nero slammed his way into Medical. He set her on a bed, as one of the healers, Tamma, appeared to check on her.

“Gladiator, you may leave,” Tamma said in a calm voice.

“No.” Nero crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet, looking like a boulder that would not be budged.

The Hermia gave a quiet sigh, and then moved back to assess Winter’s wounds. When Tamma pushed up Winter’s shirt, and then started cutting it off, she tried not to be embarrassed. She was well aware she wasn’t Nero’s type—big, strong, and athletic—so it didn’t matter if he saw her half naked.

“The scratches are minor.” The healer grabbed some med gel and started spreading it over her stomach.

“I tried to tell everyone that.”

“I find gladiators do not always listen to medical advice.”

Winter snorted and saw Nero’s brows draw together. When the healer finished and stepped away, Winter sat up, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed.

Nero appeared, handing her a sheet. She pulled it around her shoulders. “Thank you.” It would have to do until she got back to her room.

Before her feet hit the floor, Nero lifted her into his arms.

“I’m fine, Nero. I can walk.”

“Don’t care.” He strode out of Medical.

Boy, he was wound up. Winter decided to stay silent, as he strode through the corridors. Soon, he was carrying her into a room that wasn’t hers and setting her on a huge bed.

“Stay there,” he ordered, before he stomped out.

She stared at the empty doorway, shaking her head. She looked around his room with interest. A large fur rug covered the bed and she stroked it while she took in the leather couch, the dark curtains framing the large window and the crossed swords on the wall. She turned her head and saw a collection of knives hanging above the bed. She smiled. Barbarian chic.

She’d just settled back against the pillows when Nero returned, holding a glass of liquid and some silky fabric in his hand.

“My robe.” She grabbed the silky robe that Regan had given her.

Nero turned and gave her his broad back. Quickly, she discarded her bloody clothes and the sheet, pulling the robe around her body.

“I’m decent.”

He turned and handed her the glass. Her eyebrows rose. “What’s this?”

“It is called ch’talla. It is made from a vine from my home world. It promotes healing.”

She felt something soften inside her. “Nero, I’m okay.”

He nodded at her and started pacing across the room.

God, save her from overprotective males. She sipped the ch’talla and her eyes widened. It was sweet and tart. “This tastes amazing.”

“My mother used to make it for me, when I was injured in training. Of course, it hadn’t been brewed first like this version.”

The flat tone of his voice made her heart ache. It was easy to forget big, hard-headed Nero had once been a young man, torn from everything he knew.

“What’s it taste like if it isn’t brewed?” she asked.

“Bitter. You do not give warriors in training something that tastes sweet.”

She closed her eyes for a second. So barbarians treated their kids with little care. He kept pacing, and she wondered idly if he would wear a groove in the floor if he continued. “Nero, come and sit down.”

“You could have been killed or taken.” He spun, his face hard. “When I realized we were attacked as a distraction…” He pressed his hands to the back of his neck. “When I saw you were gone.”

She climbed off the bed and went to him. “I’m okay.” She squeezed his hand. “You were coming after me…I was alone in the dark for a long time knowing that no one was coming. This time, I knew.”

A squeaking sound broke through the room, followed by the tap of something on glass. She spun toward the doors leading onto his balcony.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” His voice sounded odd.

She eyed him. He had a strange look on his face. Winter headed for the balcony.

“Winter, you should be resting.”

She slid open the door. Three small, furry faces looked up at her.

Her mouth dropped open. She watched the sleek, cat-like creatures tumble into the room. One tried to climb up Nero’s leg while the others ran in circles around his feet.

Winter watched him snatch one animal up, his big hand smoothing over its dark fur. She now saw the little things had very sharp claws and huge fangs. Whatever they were, they were hunters.

“Friends of yours?” she asked.

He looked really uncomfortable. “Several animals roam the arena at night. They eat the rodents. One of the thera hunting cats had a litter.”

“And they followed you home?” She was trying to hold back a laugh. If the familiar way he petted the animals was anything to go by, this was a regular thing.

He shrugged one shoulder. “The kits climbed up to my balcony.”

Winter swiveled and looked on the balcony. There was a bowl of water and a small plate of half-eaten food sitting beside a fur blanket. She stared. This was a side of Nero she’d never seen, never even guessed at.

She turned to look at him. “You hiding some sweet under that barbarian gruffness?”

He scowled and set the thera kit down. He chased them out onto the balcony and slammed the door closed. He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I am not sweet.”

She moved up to him until their bodies brushed. “Nero—”

Suddenly, his bedroom door flew open. Harper, Regan, Rory, and Madeline rushed in.

“God, what happened?” Rory demanded.

“Are you all right?” Harper asked quietly. “Raiden said you were hurt.”

As the women surrounded Winter, she absorbed the cloud of caring and love surrounding her. Just weeks ago, she hadn’t known any of these women, but what they’d all gone through had bonded them together forever.

Whatever happened, she had her friends.

As Regan leaned over to give her a careful hug, Winter looked up and saw Nero slip out of the room. Now she just had to work out where one big, bad barbarian gladiator fitted into her life.

Chapter Seven

Nero strode into the maintenance area, buried in the bowels of the House of Galen. Ahead, he saw Rory and Zhim working on the remnants of the robot they’d brought back from the factory.

The mangled metal was laid out on a scarred metal workbench. Zhim sat in front of a comp screen, feverishly tapping at it, while Rory leaned over the guts of the robot.

“This comp is out of date,” Zhim complained. “I can organize an upgrade to a far better machine.”

“It’s two months old,” a deep voice said.

That’s when Nero noticed Galen. The imperator was leaning against the wall, watching the dissection, and Kace was beside him. But Kace was watching Rory, not the work.

“Like I said,” Zhim said. “Out of date and inferior.”

“You’ll have to suffer through,” Galen said dryly.

“Anything?” Nero asked.

Galen scowled. “Lots of talk about reinforced shielding this, and enhanced programming that.”

“It’s like they’re speaking an unknown alien language,” Kace murmured.

Rory blew the man a kiss, her hands deep in the guts of the robot. “It’s geek-speak, pretty boy.” She held up something glittery and spongy. “This is so sophisticated. I haven’t seen anything like this on Carthago before.”

She tilted it so Zhim could see, and the man frowned and shook his head.

Nero knew that the Earth engineer had been spending a lot of time learning all about the technology of Carthago. If she and Zhim hadn’t seen it before…

“And there’s reverse-triple-thread encryption on this data.” Zhim drummed his fingers on the table before they flew across the screen in an intricate dance. “Fascinating. Finally, a challenge.”

There was eagerness in his voice. As Nero watched the pair work, he stared at the intact arms of the robot. It hadn’t looked very fascinating dragging Winter across the floor.

But she’d gotten her revenge. He remembered exactly how she’d looked after defeating the robot—fierce, angry, and strong.

She was not what he’d first guessed. She had an inner core of strength that shone through everything else. She didn’t let anything get her down, or stop her.

“How’s Blue?” Rory asked.

The imperator nodded. “Fine, actually. Being out, and actively helping to find Mia, seems to have soothed some of his wilder edges. He’s talking a little more.” Galen’s icy gaze swung Nero’s way. “And Winter?”

Nero fought off a scowl. “Fine. Her injuries were minor.” He still hated that she’d been hurt. He thought of the ugly red scrapes marring her perfect, pale skin.

“Spines of steel, these women of Earth,” Kace said.

Rory blew him another kiss. Then her face turned serious. “Ah-ha.” She lifted a small, metal component up in the air, the light glinting off it. “I found a serial number etched on here.” She looked at Zhim. “Can you track it?”

Zhim nodded, inputting the alien letters. “Of course, I can. And…I think I’ve almost broken some of this encryption.”

Rory patted her belly. “Cracking encryptions is like being pregnant, Zhim. You either are or you aren’t. You have or you haven’t.”

Zhim’s gaze lingered on her belly. “Well, your stomach is large. There is no doubting the gladiator implanted a child in you.”

Kace made a growling sound, and Rory grinned at him. The computer chimed and Zhim swung back to the screen. “There’s a hit on the serial number.”

Nero strode forward, Galen and Kace right behind him. They crowded in behind Zhim, waiting for the information to appear on the screen.

Nero really wanted a name. He wanted to know whoever had attacked Winter…because they would pay.

“Stimulus Corp,” Zhim said.

“What the drak is Stimulus Corp?” Galen asked.

“No idea, but I’ll find out. At first glance, it appears to be a local holding company.” Zhim swiped at the screen. “Okay, Stimulus owns some smaller companies. Spark Industries. Incitement Group. They all sell some very high-tech, experimental items. Mostly related to computer systems.” He whistled. “I know some of this tech. I even own some of it. It’s good stuff.”

Nero frowned. “Stimulus. Incitement. Spark. Catalyst.”

Galen’s head whipped around. “You think Catalyst tried to snatch Winter in the factory?”

Nero nodded.

“Yes!” Zhim spun, smiling. “Stimulus Corp is owned by Catalyst.”

“Who the drak is this Catalyst?” Nero demanded.

A muscle ticked in Galen’s jaw. “Keep looking, Zhim. I want to know who this scum-sucker is. And where he is.”

“I can think of someone who might know.” The information merchant’s face turned serious. “The Thraxians.”

Galen cursed.

“They’ve dealt with him before, and are locked in a feud with him right now.”

Galen ran a hand over his head. “As am I. I am not their favorite person.” He muttered a curse. “I guess I’ll have to have a little talk with the Imperator of the House of Thrax.”

Nero scowled. Right. Like the House of Thrax would happily help the House of Galen. They knew Galen planned to dismantle the House of Thrax, piece by piece.

The comp pinged again and Zhim turned back to it. “I broke some of the encryption.” The man grinned. “I am good.”

“And modest,” Rory added.

But Zhim’s smile dissolved. “This looks like a partial video.”

The screen filled with an image. Nero saw Winter’s frightened face and he clenched his teeth. They all watched the attack by the robot, it dragging her away, her fighting for her life.

“You go, girl,” Rory murmured.

It finished with Winter stabbing wildly at the machine. Then the screen went blank.

“Take it back earlier, if you can,” Galen said. “Before Winter’s attack.”

Zhim nodded, and a second later, more pictures filled the screen.

Nero frowned, watching lots of images of the factory. Then the images changed. “Look there!”

It was the desert. Pale dunes colored by the blazing balls of Carthago’s two suns as they slipped over the horizon. There were also strange rock formations nearby. Tall, twisting spires of rock that speared into the air.

Then, he heard the sounds of struggling and cursing. A female’s voice. The recording device turned, and he caught a glimpse of Mia.

She was the smallest of the Earth women, and they were already small compared to most alien species. But she didn’t appear delicate or fragile. She was fit and compact, her hair cut very short, leaving blonde wisps around her face. She had big, blue eyes that in that moment looked furious.

Then an arm flashed across the screen, striking her in the face. She flopped down on the sand, unconscious.

Nero shook his head, filled with the sudden urge to kick something. The image panned again, and he got a good view of the rock formations.

He tensed. “Freeze it.”

Zhim did, zooming in. “They’re just rocks. The desert is littered with them.”

Nero swore. “There’s someone hiding in the shadows, near the rock formation on the left.”

Now Zhim frowned, tapping the comp. “I’ll see if I can enhance it. It might take some time.”

“Thank you, Zhim, and you too, Rory,” Galen said. “As soon as you have more, inform me.” Then he looked at his gladiators. “Now, we have a small exhibition match against the House of Rone. I need you all to get ready.” Galen’s lips twitched. “I have a bet with a certain cyborg imperator and I don’t want to lose it.”

Nero glanced once more at the screen, frustrated that there was nothing more he could do for the hunt right now.

Maybe a fight was just what he needed to ease his frustration.

And perhaps the idea that a certain dark-haired woman of Earth would be watching him made the idea even more appealing.

***

Nero stepped into the arena, sand crunching under his boots. It was a small crowd tonight, but still an energized atmosphere.

He liked the smaller, exhibition matches. The arena felt different, more focused. Flanking him, his fellow House of Galen gladiators waited. Raiden was fighting with Harper tonight. The pair whispered quietly to each other, relaxed and smiling. Nero had to admit, the pair fought with a synchronicity that was enviable.

Lore was on one side of Nero, and Thorin on the other with Kace. Blaine was fighting with Saff tonight, and they were trading teasing insults behind him.

Nero glanced toward the stands, and saw the remaining women sitting in the House of Galen seats. His gaze zeroed in on Winter. He lifted his hand. She smiled and waved back.

The sound of the crowd changed to a roar and he turned to see the House of Rone gladiators stepping out of the tunnel on the opposite side of the arena.

The eight gladiators—six men and two women—were all big. Broad-shouldered and muscled, they moved across the sand with controlled power.

These were no slaves or indentured fighters. These were well-trained, experienced gladiators.

Nero smiled. Good. He liked a challenge. He glanced one more time to the stands. Winter was watching. Not that he wanted her to watch, or that he was showing off, or anything.

The House of Galen gladiators moved toward their rivals, meeting them in the center of the arena.

A big gladiator with dark skin and a scarred chest stepped forward. His eyes were a brilliant, diamond-white. He held a huge longsword. “Is the House of Galen ready to eat sand, and fall under the boots of the House of Rone?”

Raiden stepped forward, the wind catching at his red cloak. “Xias, your taunts get more dramatic every time we fight.”

“You’ll spout poetry next,” Thorin called out.

The Rone gladiator smiled. “Did you like it?”

“He’s been practicing,” a female gladiator said from beside Xias. She was only a few inches shorter than the man, her powerful body covered in a leather bodysuit.

“Still needs a bit more work.” Raiden clasped forearms with the gladiator. Then Raiden lowered his voice. “And it will be the House of Rone who will be kissing the sand.”

Xias’ smile widened. “We’ll see.”

They stepped back and a moment later, the starting horn sounded.

Nero lifted his sword, and saw Lore spinning his sword beside him. Flashy as always.

Then he caught the gaze of one of the Rone gladiators and they charged at each other. Metal rang against metal. Nero used all his strength as he dodged and swung. He used some of the new moves he’d practiced with Raiden. He scored a hit, causing the other gladiator to grunt and drop his sword.

But the man rolled, snatched up his weapon, and was back on his feet in the next second.

As the gladiator attacked again with force, Nero moved backward across the sand. Lore was close in on his left, fighting his own opponent. A second later, there was a bright burst of color and smoke. One of Lore’s illusions.

The crowd cheered. The smoke curled around the fighters, and Nero saw the shapes of flying beasts moving in it.

Nero ducked, the Rone gladiator’s sword whooshing overhead. He jumped up and swung his own weapon. He opened up a thin line across the gladiator’s chest.

The man scowled, determination on his face. He rushed at Nero again.

Yes, the House of Rone always provided a good challenge. But tonight, Nero was energized by the emotions he wanted to work out of his system, and his audience.

He caught a quick glimpse of Harper leaping through the air. The woman could jump higher than anyone he’d ever seen. She landed on a gladiator’s back, riding him to the sand. Nearby, Raiden was fighting with his usual powerful, no-nonsense style that made him the Champion of the Kor Magna Arena.

Nero’s sword crashed against his opponent’s. The man lost his balance, and Nero planted his boot in the man’s gut, sending him to the sand.

A flash of movement.

Nero spun, just as the second female gladiator rushed at him.

He whirled, the tip of her sword a whisper away from his skin. She smiled devilishly at him, and they circled each other.

She was a little shorter than the other female, but still tall and strong. His usual type of woman.

They surged together, swords striking in a series of blows and blocks. She laughed—a full-bodied sound that echoed around him. He admired her power and speed, and as he blocked another swing of her sword, the movement bringing them close, he realized he didn’t feel more than a tiny spark of appreciation.

Nero pulled back with a frown. Instead, he was thinking of slim limbs, pale skin, and a stubborn chin.

He threw himself back into the fight, shoving the distracting thoughts away.

Finally, the horn sounded again. In exhibition matches, the gladiators only fought for a set length of time. There were no winners or losers.

“Good fight, gladiator,” the woman said.

He nodded. “You, too.”

Around him, there were a lot of good-natured taunts, and backslapping.

Lore came up and slung an arm across Nero’s shoulders. “That female Rone gladiator has her eye on you, my friend.” Lore waggled his eyebrows. “I foresee that you are going to get very lucky this evening.”

“What?” Nero shook his head, glancing back at the woman. “I didn’t see her watching me.”

His fight partner frowned skeptically. “You didn’t notice?”

Nero focused on the tunnel. “Come on. I want to see if Zhim found anything more in the video he got off the robot.”

Lore shook his head, looking bewildered. “You didn’t notice the sexy woman who was interested in you?” He shook his head again. “Okay, go check the video. I’ll meet you at the party in the living quarters.”

Nero paused. “Party?”

“Small. Just a few drinks.”

Nero didn’t bother to shower and change. He headed straight down to the maintenance area. The computer was on, lights blinking, but Zhim wasn’t there.

Letting out a harsh breath, Nero headed up to the living quarters. Inside, the hubbub of conversation and the clink of glassware reached his ears. From the doorway, he scanned the room. Galen was talking with Magnus Rone in the center of the space. The room was filled with a mix of gladiators and guests.

Nero spotted Zhim’s dark head. “Why aren’t you working on the video?”

Zhim turned, lifting a glass filled with a neon-green drink. “I am. I don’t need to sit there and watch it, gladiator.” The man’s gaze was on Nero’s face, sharp and considering. “I have several enhancement programs running. It could be a few hours yet.”

Frustrated, Nero looked around the room. He spotted Harper, Regan, Rory, and Madeline, but he kept looking for another dark head.

Lore appeared, handing Nero a glass of Nero’s favorite ale.

“Looking for that female gladiator?” Lore asked. “Her name is Esha, by the way.”

Nero blinked. “Who?”

Lore’s eyebrows furrowed. “Okay, something is really going on with you.”

Nero took a sip of his drink, searching the crowd again. “Nothing is going on.” Where was Winter? “I need a drink.”

“You have a drink.”

Ignoring Lore, Nero moved through the partygoers. Near the window, he arched his head. That’s when he spotted her through the glass window, shrouded in darkness. She was sitting out on the balcony.

He pushed open the door and headed out. “Hi.”

Winter was sitting on a couch, her feet tucked up under her, and her face tilted toward the night sky.

She turned her head and smiled. “Nero. The fight was amazing.”

“Thanks.” He sat down beside her. “How are you feeling?”

“Perfectly fine. And I don’t need a lecture about how I shouldn’t have been on the mission.”

His chest tightened. Is that what she thought he was thinking? He took a sip of his drink to wet his throat. “I wasn’t going to say that. You held your own on the mission.” He felt her staring at him. “Why are you looking up at the sky?”

“I wish I could see the stars.” Her voice was wistful. “I can see a few blue twinkles, but that’s about it.”

“The Hermia healers are still working on restoring your vision?”

“Yes.” She plucked at her blue dress. “But I think we all know the chances of that happening are very slim now.”

There was pain in her voice and it cut at him.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” she continued. “Back on Earth, there are people who would kill to have a vision device like the one I’ve got. And even without my vision…I’m still me.”

Nero decided she needed a distraction. “Tell me about your planet.”

“Earth? It’s mostly water. We have vast oceans.” She bit down on her bottom lip and Nero watched her teeth sink into her plump flesh. “It’s cold at the poles, and tropical at the equator.”

“You have family?”

“Just my mother and brother. Mom will miss me. We were pretty close. My brother—” she shrugged. “We aren’t that close. He might miss me, when it suits him.” She shifted, and Nero got a peek at delicate feet wrapped in ribbons that came part way up her slender calves. “Tell me about your home world?”

“You already know a lot. A planet of harsh landscapes and weather. We have frozen ice plains to the north, dense jungles in the middle, and hot deserts to the south.”

“Do you miss it?”

He was quiet as he considered. “I feel some nostalgia. I miss the fresh air and the thrill of hunting Symerian beasts. But this is my home now, and my loyalty is to the House of Galen.”

“It is always hard when you are snatched away from the things you love.”

He released a breath. “I wasn’t abducted. I was given to the slavers.”

“What?”

His hand tightened on his glass and he stared at the amber fluid. “I was leading a hunting party on the plains. We were tracking a large, cunning creature called a ratooth. The alien slavers landed and attacked. We fought back.”

Winter shifted, her gaze on his face. “What happened?”

“We fought, but we weren’t a match for their advanced weapons. I fought until I was bloody and could barely stand. They slaughtered my warriors, and I saw them snatch my younger brother and sister.”

“Oh, Nero.” She grabbed his hand.

He felt that touch all the way through him.

“The aliens must have thought I was dead, and they left. My father found me.”

Her fingers tightened on his.

“I had shamed my warlord and my clan. I wasn’t strong enough, and I didn’t die in battle like my warriors. I let the warlord’s children be taken. As the hunting party leader, it was my responsibility to protect them.”

“Your father blamed you?” she said incredulously.

“For a long time, I blamed myself. I had been raised to believe in strength and might, honed by hours of daily training.”

“When did you start your training?”

“After my third birthday.” He took a long gulp of his drink. “The aliens returned not long after. My father, being a smart warlord, brokered a deal. He offered twenty strong, capable slaves to them to make them go away and return my siblings. I was the first one selected.”

“He gave you away?” She turned, fully facing him. “That is barbaric, Nero! One, to blame you and two, to abandon his child.”

“It is the barbarian way.”

“Yeah, well the barbarian way sucks.” She reached out and squeezed his bicep. “You don’t still believe that strength only has something to do with this, do you?”

That small touch rocketed through Nero, and he struggled to find words. “For a long time, I did. Then Galen and the others showed me that being smart and learning were important, too.” Winter gave a satisfied nod. Nero lowered his voice. “Watching you has taught me that true strength has very little to do with muscles.”

Her face softened. “Thank you.” Her gaze dropped to his lips and she pulled in a shuddering breath. “Nero?”

He knew she felt it, too, this connection that neither of them wanted or could ignore.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

She went still for a second, then her arms flew around his neck, and her mouth opened under his.

Heat flowed through Nero with the strength of a firestorm. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and dragged her into his lap.

Chapter Eight

Winter kissed Nero back, sinking her hands into his hair. His tongue swept into her mouth and she moaned.

Hungry for more, heat pooling low in her belly, she let her lips travel over his strong jaw, sliding down his neck. His big hands dug into her hips, one sliding over her belly. Desire was riding her hard and she sank her teeth into his neck, feeling the pulse under his skin.

She loved his rough hands on her. “I love when you touch me.”

Nero growled, his hands clenching.

He wasn’t being careful, wasn’t treating her like she was broken.

“This is crazy,” she said huskily. “You and me. I’m not even sure we like each other.”

“I like you.” Then, his mouth was back on hers, hard and demanding. Just how she imagined a barbarian gladiator would kiss. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed being close to someone. It’d been so, so long. She moved against him, feeling the strength of his firm thighs beneath her, and another hard bulge that made her belly contract.

He rose, carrying her easily, and Winter wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved farther along the balcony until they were swallowed by the shadows.

“I’ve decided we should have sex,” she said in a rush.

“What?” he growled.

“Sex. You and me. Get this craziness out of our systems.”

“Just sex?”

“Yes.” She wanted his hands on her, his mouth on her, his cock inside her. She wanted an orgasm she didn’t have to give herself. “I want to use you for sex.”

He made a strangled sound. She felt stone beneath her butt and realized he’d rested her on the stone railing.

Winter looked over the edge, excitement spiking. “Don’t let me fall.”

“Never.” His mouth took hers again.

Then his mouth traveled down her neck, across her collarbone. With one hand, he nudged down the neckline of her dress and freed one breast.

His mouth closed over her nipple, sucking hard. Winter’s head dropped back, desire storming through her. She felt his hand sliding up under the skirt of her dress. This dress was short too but with a fuller skirt. His fingers brushed over her panties and she jerked. Her breasts felt heavy and full, her belly hot.

“Do you want me to touch you here, Winter?”

“Yes.” More than anything.

“With my fingers or my mouth?”

Her breath hitched. “Both.”

In the darkness, she saw the flash of his white teeth as he smiled. One finger slipped under her panties. She canted her hips forward and he slid one thick finger inside her.

“Nero!”

“You are so tight.” He pulled his finger out, teasing her folds. “And so very wet. Is that for me?”

She trembled and he thrust his finger back inside. She clamped her hands on the railing, trying to hold onto something to anchor herself. Of course, Nero kept one hand on her hips, holding her safely in place.

“More,” she choked out. “Nero, please.”

With a hungry sound, he knelt down. He nudged her thighs wider apart with his head. The sight of him between her legs made her belly clench even tighter. Then he leaned forward and she felt his warm breath on her.

Oh, God. He gripped her panties and tore them off with one flick of his wrist. Then his mouth was on her.

She cried out, biting down on her lip to muffle it. His hot tongue lapped at her, delved inside. She shifted and both his hands cupped her buttocks, pulling her to his mouth. He made the sound of a hungry man feasting.

“So soft. So sweet.” His tongue found her clit, lapping at it.

That shoved Winter over the edge. She came, hard and fast, trying not to scream his name.

She was panting, her eyes closed, when she felt him stand. He scooped her up and the next thing she knew, he was setting her back on the couch and smoothing her dress down.

Winter opened her eyes. To see a smug-looking barbarian watching her. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, and she tasted herself on him. When he pulled back, he held something up.

She blushed. The tattered remains of her panties. When she reached for them, he snatched them away.

“Did you know barbarian warriors are known to keep trophies of all their victories?” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “You keep trophies?”

“No.” He tucked her panties into his pocket. “But I’m thinking of starting.”

A laugh burst out of her. She was feeling far too good to argue with the man.

“There you are.” Harper appeared, Raiden an enormous silhouette behind her.

Great. Winter quickly smoothed her hair, hoping she looked normal. Not like a woman who’d let a barbarian gladiator give her an earth-shattering orgasm. When she saw Harper’s gaze narrow, Winter was pretty sure luck wasn’t on her side.

“Sorry to break up the party,” Raiden said. “Zhim said he got a ping from his comp. His enhancements of the video found something.”

Winter scrambled to her feet. Her body was still tingling from what she and Nero had done, but right now, she needed to think of Dayna and Mia. They were locked away somewhere, hurting, and who knew what was happening to them. It made Winter feel terrible that she was here, safe, going to parties and making out with a handsome man. That just wasn’t right.

Nero pressed a hand to her back and urged her inside. They passed through the party and headed down to the lower levels.

When they moved into the maintenance area, Winter saw that Zhim was already there, working feverishly in front of several screens.

“Zhim?” Galen said.

The information merchant held up a hand. “Shh.”

Galen’s face darkened, and Winter guessed that the imperator wasn’t used to people giving him orders.

“Zhim.” Galen’s voice had lowered to a growl.

“Just one more second. Yes!” Zhim spun in his chair, grinning at them. “I was just finishing enhancing the video, and I’ve identified who is skulking in the shadows.”

Winter pushed forward, trying to get a clear view of the screen. She heaved out a frustrated breath. The shadows were too dark for her to make out much more than the desert rock formations, and the faint outline of something…someone.

Behind her, the room went silent.

“Drak,” Galen bit out.

Dread solidified in Winter’s stomach. She looked up at Nero. “What is it?”

“There are three people in the image.” His voice was tense. “They blend into the desert landscape.”

“And?”

“They’re members of a desert tribe,” Nero said. “They’re called desert wraiths.”

Harper leaned forward, her shoulder brushing Winter’s. “They look tall and wiry, with a dark pattern on their skin. Like the pattern of stone.”

“Their skin changes color, depending on the time of day and the terrain,” Galen said, running a hand over his hair. “It’s why they’re called wraiths. You could stand right beside them, and not know that they’re there.”

Winter swallowed. The doctor in her was fascinated by these people, and how they had adapted to their environment. But mostly, she was concerned as to why a bunch of tough gladiators were worried. “Are they dangerous?”

Nero nodded. “Very. They’re very territorial.”

Raiden crossed his arms over his chest. “Desert wraiths hunt in a pack and like to skin their victims.”

What? Gut churning, Winter dropped into a chair. Dayna and Mia were out there somewhere, in the territory of these desert wraiths. Please let them still be alive.

“At least this narrows down your location,” Zhim said. “The desert wraiths have a defined area out in the Sea of Desolation.”

The Sea of Desolation? Winter traded a look with Harper. Just great. She looked at Galen. “When do we go?”

A large hand fell on her shoulder. “The desert is dangerous.”

“I know.” She glanced up at Nero. “I already took a trip to the desert, remember?”

She’d been abducted, kept in a cage, attacked by desert beasts. It had not been fun. But none of that mattered when Dayna and Mia’s lives were at stake.

She pushed to her feet. “You need Blue. If there is a trail to follow, he and Nero will be able to follow it. And I need to go with them, in case Blue needs help.”

Nero’s fingers tightened on her shoulder.

“Don’t push back on this, barbarian.” She stared into his eyes. Please.

His fingers squeezed and he nodded.

Something tight and hot inside her, released. “Scary desert people be damned.” She looked at Galen. “I am going to help find my friends.”

Galen heaved out a breath. “I’ll plan the mission. We’ll need a good guide and gear.”

“No guide will take us into desert wraith territory,” Nero said.

The imperator’s face hardened. “I’ll find someone. Now, get some rest, and be ready to leave in the morning. Nero and Raiden? Meet me in my office to help with our plan.”

Winter headed out of the room, her belly churning.

“Winter.” Nero grabbed her arm.

“You can save the ‘it’s too dangerous’ and the ‘you shouldn’t go’ speech. I’m going.”

He stared at her for a moment. “That wasn’t what I was going to say. I wanted to tell you that I’ll keep you safe.”

Winter softened. “Nero—”

“The desert is dangerous, and whatever happens, I will ensure you stay safe and find your friends.” He touched her face, just a gentle glide of knuckles. “Get some sleep. You’ll need it for the trek.”

Then he was moving away with that powerful stride he had.

Confusing, noble barbarian. “Nero?”

He paused and looked back.

“Thank you.”

***

The early light of dawn was washing through the window as Winter tightened her belt, slipping the knife Nero had given her onto it.

She hadn’t slept well. She’d been plagued by sexy dreams of Nero mixed with nightmares of the Thraxian labs and the terrible things that could be happening to Dayna and Mia.

She dropped down onto the bed.

She was heading back into the desert. She’d been dragged there against her will and almost died there.

Taking a deep breath, she stood. She wouldn’t be alone this time. She wouldn’t be helpless, lost, and afraid.

She pulled the knife off her belt, studying the gleam of the blade. This time she was fighting for what she wanted. She slipped the blade back in the sheath.

And it appeared that one thing she wanted was Nero Krahn.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she fought back a laugh. If anyone had told her a week ago that she’d be lusting after the big brute, and that she’d let him lick her to the best orgasm she’d ever had, she would have laughed her head off.

The night before, she’d stopped herself a dozen times from sneaking out of her bed and into his.

Only the knowledge that she needed to be well-rested for this mission had stopped her.

A knock at her door. She opened it and saw Rory, Harper, Madeline and Regan. Rory’s robot dog, Hero, was sniffing around her feet. Lights blinking along his side.

“We came to say good luck,” Harper said.

Regan grabbed Winter’s hand. “Bring them home.”

“That’s the plan,” Winter said.

“Damn, I wish I was going with you,” Harper said. “But Galen pulled the ‘I need you to stay and hold the fort’ card.”

“Here.” Rory held her hand out. “This is for you.”

It was a pistol. “Rory, I’ve never shot a gun in my life.”

“It’s a laser pulse pistol and I’ve rigged it with autotargeting. All you have to do is point in the general vicinity of what you’re shooting at.”

Winter smiled, tucking the weapon into her backpack. “Thank you.”

“You sure you want to go out into the desert?” Madeline asked.

“No. But for Dayna and Mia, I will. Besides, I’ll be surrounded by some badass, overprotective gladiators.”

“And one particular gladiator that drives you crazy,” Rory said. “I hope Nero doesn’t give you a hard time.”

“Oh. Well. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Rory’s gaze sharpened. “Really?”

Winter looked up. Regan was grinning and Madeline had a small smile on her face. Harper was staring at her.

“He’s been really helpful with the search for Dayna and Mia.”

“Uh-huh,” Rory said.

“I may have misjudged him a little.”

“So he’s no longer rude, abrupt and brooding?” Rory asked.

Winter felt the need to defend him. “Well, he can be all those things, but he’s also protective, and at times, thoughtful.”

“Is that why you looked all disheveled at the party last night?” Harper asked. “With kiss-swollen lips, mussed hair, and flushed cheeks.”

Busted. Dammit, she’d known Harper had worked it out. “Um…”

“Uh-huh. You slept with him, didn’t you?” Rory was grinning now. At her feet, Hero gave an excited, electronic bark.

“What? No!” Winter said. God, she was blushing.

“She’ll just keep at you until you confess,” Regan said.

“I…we kissed.”

“And?” Rory prompted.

“Um, maybe fooled around a little.”

Rory smiled. “Was it good?”

Winter blew out a shuddering breath. “So good. That man’s mouth…”

Madeline was smiling, too. “We get the picture. These gladiators are good at taking what they want, but they make sure to leave a woman well-satisfied.”

They all sighed.

“I’ve decided to use Nero for sex,” Winter told them.

Rory’s eyebrows shot upward. “Did you tell him that?”

“Yes. He’s a man. He didn’t complain.”

Regan giggled. “I can’t wait to see how this pans out.”

“Look, I have to go,” Winter said. “I’ll see you when we get back. With Dayna and Mia.”

Her friends hugged her. Harper went last, giving her a tight squeeze. “Be careful out there.”

“I’m going to be surrounded by the House of Galen. I couldn’t be safer.” Winter started down the hall. “See you soon.”

***

With his fighting leathers in place and his sword strapped to his back, Nero stepped out into the morning sunlight.

Outside the arena, his group was already waiting to head to the stables. There, they’d get their tarnid beasts and head into the desert.

All of his friends were there, ready to go. Raiden, Thorin, Kace, Lore, Saff and Blaine. He spied Winter dressed in leather trousers that slicked over her legs and hips. By the blade. She wore a loose, white shirt that hinted at what lay beneath it. He’d dreamed of her. He could still taste her on his lips and hear her husky cries. Barbarians did not dream, but last night, instead of sleeping soundly, he’d dreamed of her laid out before him. A prize that was his for the taking.

Drak. He knew better than anyone that letting someone in, under your skin, wasn’t a good idea. And Winter was burrowing deeper than anyone had been before.

She was murmuring quietly to a tense Blue. Then, she turned her head and spotted Nero. She lifted her chin and smiled.

Damn her and her strength. He wished she would stay here, safe and protected, and let him find the women. But if there was one thing he’d learned about Winter Ashworth and her friends from Earth, it was that arguing with her was a losing proposition.

“Let’s get to Varus’ stables,” Galen said with a wave.

Galen led them to the western edge of Kor Magna and soon they passed under a large stone archway into the stables.

Instantly, Nero smelled beasts. A wide variety of them. He sorted through the scents, the hunter in him keen and interested. Big, solid Varus appeared—a grizzled former gladiator.

“Galen! Welcome back. I have the beasts and gear you requested.”

Suddenly, a small figure stomped up to them. “So, you think you can just dump me for another guide?”

The girl was wearing loose-fitting clothes suited for the desert. Her dark hair was pulled back in two braids and a well-worn green scarf was wound around her neck. She stood in front of Galen, her feet shoulder-width apart and her hands on her hips, squaring off with the imperator.

Galen sighed. “You’re a very good guide, Duna. But we’re going somewhere you don’t want to go.”

“I grew up in the desert. I know every part of it better than—”

“We’re going into desert wraith territory.”

Shock skittered over the girl’s face. “What?”

“You heard me,” Galen said.

She tossed a braid back over her shoulder. “Did you all get too much sun?”

Varus stepped up beside the girl, resting his big, scarred hands on her shoulders. “No way I’d let them take you into desert wraith territory, girl.” The big man’s gaze met Galen’s. “I can find you someone willing to take you to the Sea of Desolation. But it’ll cost you.”

“I’ve already contracted somebody. He assures me he’s dealt with the wraiths before.” Galen looked toward the stable hands bringing out the tarnid beasts.

The large creatures had powerful, muscled bodies and six legs. Their scaly skin ranged from night black to dark green. They were steady animals who needed little water, and were good in the desert.

“No,” Blue said.

“Blue,” Winter said. “These animals are—”

The man crossed his arms over his muscled chest, the swirls of his tattoos deepening in color. “No. I walk.”

The tarnid closest to Blue reared up, then slammed its hooves down on the cobblestoned ground. It looked in Blue’s direction, its eyes wide and its nostrils flaring.

Apparently, the dislike was mutual.

“He can walk,” Galen said, as the imperator moved over to talk with Varus.

Nero stepped up to Winter. “I didn’t sleep well.”

She tipped her pretty face up at him, and blew out a breath. “I didn’t, either.”

“I kept thinking about how you tasted. That small nub between your legs. The way you cried out when you found your—”

She reached up, pressing her hand to his mouth. “Shh!”

“I dreamed of you, Winter.”

Something flashed in her eyes. “We’re completely wrong for each other.”

He fought back a scowl. For some reason, he hated hearing those words, even though he knew that they were true. “Agreed.”

“But I still want to use you for sex.”

He sucked in a sharp breath.

“And maybe we could work on reluctant friends.”

“Friends?” Apart from Saff, Nero had never been friends with a woman. Hell, Lore joked that Nero was a pretty hopeless friend on the best of days. “Okay, friend, you’ll ride with me today.”

She arched a brow. “Is that you asking me in a friendly way to ride with you?”

That tongue. “Please ride with me, Winter.”

She shot him a blinding smile. “It would be my pleasure, Nero.”

He lifted Winter up onto their tarnid, and then swung up behind her. He took a second to get settled, setting his gear into the saddlebags on the beast’s sides.

Galen rode his tarnid out ahead of them. “Everybody ready?”

With murmurs of assent, and a wave from Varus and Duna, their group headed off.

They wound through the streets of Kor Magna, tarnid hooves clicking on the road. Several children raced out to follow them, keeping up with them for a few blocks before they waved goodbye. Soon the paved road gave way to desert sand. Nero stared into the barren terrain ahead of them.

“God, I just felt the temperature rise a few degrees,” Winter said.

Blue ran on foot beside them. Nero wasn’t sure how long the guy could keep it up, but for the moment, he moved in an easy, loose gait that said he could keep going for a long time.

“We are meeting our guide at the Sahar Crossroads,” Galen said. “Then we’ll travel as far as the Tent City Oasis to spend the night. It will be tomorrow before we reach desert wraith territory.”

The next hour of the journey was actually quite enjoyable, despite the growing heat. Nero handed Winter a loose scarf and showed her how to wrap it over her head to protect herself from the harsh sunlight. She looked around eagerly, asking him to describe the scenery in detail.

Just over a week ago, she’d been dragged into this desert unwillingly, caged like an animal. Now, she reentered, filled with determination and curiosity.

A spine of steel, indeed. She continued to amaze and bemuse Nero.

“We’re approaching the crossroads,” Galen said.

Nero scanned ahead. Heat shimmered off the hot sand, and he could just make out a pile of rocks ahead. A marker.

The dual suns were high overhead, heat beating down on them. Every now and then, Winter fidgeted, and he could see that she had perspiration on her brow.

“Make sure you take regular sips of water,” he warned her, handing her the water bladder.

“Yes, Mom.” She dutifully took a drink.

He shook his head. Always a sarcastic comment from that mouth of hers. His gaze fell to her lips. So plump and perfectly shaped.

Nero jerked his gaze off her lips and glued them to the landscape ahead. The last thing he needed on a tarnid was a hard cock.

Then he saw something. Another dark shape, and it wasn’t a trail marker. Nero gave a sharp whistle and Galen turned to look. The imperator followed his gaze and nodded. He’d seen the shape as well. All around, the gladiators tensed.

It wasn’t much longer before the dark shape resolved itself into the silhouette of a tall man. He was walking toward them.

As he got closer, Nero recognized the swagger. It was Caravan Master Corsair.

Corsair was well-known for running one of the best desert caravans on Carthago. His muscular frame was clothed in standard desert clothes, the same color as the sand around them. A dark leather weapons belt was slung around his lean hips and a harness crossed his chest, holding various knives that looked well-made and well-used. Unruly brown hair, streaked with gold by the sun, curled around a rugged face. He smiled, teeth white against his tanned skin, and humor dancing in amber-gold eyes.

“Welcome to the Barren Sands, House of Galen.” Corsair gave a charming bow.

“He’s our guide?” Raiden asked.

“He’s the best in the desert,” Galen said. “You can save the swagger, Corsair. It’s wasted on us.”

“But you lured me away from my caravan with so much coin, Galen, so I feel compelled to give you your money’s worth.” The desert rogue shrugged. “Besides, I know that you’re a man who understands the value of a show.”

The hunter in Nero was watchful. There was something about Corsair that reminded Nero of the giant leonis hunting beasts on Symeria. The animals appeared lazy, lolling in the sun, but when you turned your back, they pounced with deadly efficiently.

“So you want to head into desert wraith territory?” Corsair pulled out one of his knives from the strap running diagonally across his chest. Then he plucked a piece of fruit from his pocket—a round red, dara fruit. He started cutting it open. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Galen gave a nod. “We have reason to believe the women who were abducted from the House of Galen are in their territory or at least moved through there.”

Corsair raised a brow. “And who has balls big enough to enter desert wraith territory?”

“The women were taken by a man known as Catalyst.”

“Never heard of him.” Corsair popped some fruit in his mouth. “The wraiths don’t let people just wander through their territory.”

“We have to get my friends back,” Winter called out.

The desert guide’s golden gaze settled on Winter. “Well, hello there.”

Nero tightened his hold on Winter and watched the man note it. Corsair came closer and offered up a piece of fruit to Winter.

“We won’t abandon the women,” Galen said. “They are House of Galen.”

“I’ll help you find your friends,” Corsair said.

When Winter took the fruit with a smile, Nero shot a glare at the man.

Corsair’s smile widened, and he turned back to Galen. “You’ve paid me up front, and it’s a generous sum. I’ll get you where you need to go.” He grimaced. “Besides, I hate anyone who takes slaves, and even more so, anyone who hurts women.”

Galen tilted his head. “Are you planning on walking, Corsair?”

The desert guide snorted. “Hardly.” He pressed his fingers to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

A screech echoed off the rocks around them, and suddenly, a two-legged beast sprinted in their direction, moving with the speed of the wind.

It was a large, sure-footed creature, as tall as a man. It had a powerful body, with long back legs, a set of short front arms and a long neck, and was covered in beige scales. It was wearing a saddle. It stopped beside Corsair, bobbing its head. The man ran his hand down its long neck, then with one lithe move, he swung into the saddle.

“Come on then, House of Galen. Let’s ride.”

Once again, they fell into the monotony of traveling through the desert, following along behind Corsair. As the minutes ticked by, Nero found he almost liked the quiet and tranquility. Such a nice contrast to the incessant sounds of the city and the arena.

Winter was staring ahead, a worried look on her face.

“Winter? There is no need for concern. Corsair, for all his flair, is very good in the desert. His caravan is known as the best.”

She nodded, her milky eyes turning his way. “I know. But now that we’re here, I guess I’m remembering my last trip.” She went silent for a moment.

Where she’d been blind, afraid, and caged.

“Where are they?” Winter murmured. “What if we don’t find them?”

Nero saw her staring off at the large dunes in the distance. “We won’t give up on them.”

She nodded. “What if…?”

He cupped her jaw. “We’ll find them.”

Her chest hitched. “But you can’t guarantee they’ll be alive when we do.”

Chapter Nine

Nestled in the security of Nero’s strong arms, with the warm sunlight beating down on her and the gentle rocking of the tarnid, Winter dozed off.

When she eventually stirred, she blinked several times, trying to pull herself out of the haze of sleep.

“We’ll reach the Tent City Oasis soon.” Nero’s voice rumbled through her.

“Great.” She glanced around, seeing huge dunes off to the left and a flat plain to the right. She wondered what color it all was—washed out whites and beiges, or deep yellows and oranges? She saw movement overhead and looked up. A bird soared and dipped in the sky.

All of a sudden, Corsair brought his beast to a stop, swinging it around. It was much faster and more agile than the tarnids. He frowned, looking back behind their group.

“Pick up speed,” Corsair barked.

Instantly, Winter felt Nero tense up behind her. She glanced back, trying to see around his broad form. “What is it?”

Nero turned his head, staring back. “It looks like…a swarm of something. Whatever it is, it’s coming in fast. Hold on.”

He urged the tarnid into a gallop, and Winter gripped down on his arms. Around them, the others put on a burst of speed, too.

She tasted dust in the air, and knew they must be kicking up a cloud. They sprinted across the sand and she saw the gladiators drawing their weapons.

Winter leaned to the side and looked back. She saw a dark cloud chasing them, and a moment later, she could make out the closest creature.

Except it wasn’t a creature. It was a robot.

The air in her lungs lodged there like a rock. It was a flying robot. More aerodynamically shaped than the one that had attacked her at the factory, but it was still pretty similar, with several tentacle-like arms dangling beneath it.

God, there was an entire swarm of these things coming at them.

“I’m guessing Catalyst knows we’re here,” she said.

Nero’s jaw tightened. “Here they come!”

The swarm attacked.

Nero hunched over Winter, shielding her like a protective barrier. She couldn’t see anything, but she heard it all—shouts and the clang of swords on metal. The incessant, low humming sounds the robots made.

Then she felt Nero’s body jerk. He groaned.

When his body jerked again, she realized what was happening.

She pushed against him until she could raise her head. Over his shoulder, she saw a robot attacking his back.

Oh no, you don’t. She yanked her knife out of the sheath at her hip. Then she moved, reaching over Nero’s shoulder.

“Winter, get down!”

She stabbed at the robot.

It made a whirring sound, blue lights blinking at her. She kept stabbing, and it dodged a few times.

The tarnid jerked, and Winter lurched to the side. Shit!

Nero’s arms clamped down on her waist, keeping her from falling. She jabbed the blade at the robot again, and this time, it smashed through the blue lights.

The robot made a terrible, discordant beep, and flew to the side. It spun crazily before hitting the sand and tumbling away behind them.

Winter looked up and saw more incoming. Too many.

Beside them, Saff and Blaine were swinging their swords through the air, chopping through as many as they could. Nearby, Blue leaped into the air and dragged a robot down onto the sand.

Quickly, Winter fished around in the saddlebag on the side of the beast.

“What are you doing?” Nero ground out. “Get down.”

She pulled out the pulse pistol that Rory had given her.

Nero’s eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”

She swiveled to face him, sliding up close. “Rory gave it to me.” She didn’t let herself think about the fact that she was practically straddling him and pressed against his chest. She rested her arm over his shoulder and took aim at the incoming robots.

She started firing. She felt the pistol buck under her grip, and she watched the blue laser fire zip through the air.

Winter realized suddenly that her vision device helped her with her aim, added to the autotargeting on the weapon. She tried to relax and trust her instincts, zooming in on each of her targets.

Several robots slammed into the ground. She stayed calm, adjusting her aim each time. After each whine of the pulse pistol, she watched each one of her targets hit the sand.

Then she heard Saff shout. “Blaine!”

Winter turned and saw several robots attacking Blaine. They had dragged him out of his saddle, and he was clinging precariously to the side of the tarnid’s body.

Winter aimed. One. Two. Three. Fire.

The pulse hit the first robot, and it flew off Blaine. The second robot dropped like a stone, and the third exploded into tiny pieces.

Damn, she must have hit the sweet spot. With all the robots off him, Blaine pulled himself back into the saddle and waved.

“Tent City Oasis ahead,” Corsair yelled.

“Get across the drawbridge,” Galen shouted.

Winter swiveled around to face forward. She saw a small sea of round tents, that made her think of a medieval fair. They were surrounded by a deep ring cut into the ground. As they got closer, she realized it was a moat. She shuddered. To keep the desert beasts out, apparently.

Nero spurred their tarnid on. The drawbridge got closer and closer. Now, she could make out the uniformed security of the oasis, turning small turrets toward the swarm.

Their tarnid hit the wooden drawbridge, hooves clattering. The turrets opened fire, laser shots filling the air.

Winter glanced down into the moat to look at the water, and frowned. It was filled with…sand?

But then something moved in the sand. A dark, serpentine body that appeared for a second, before diving back under the surface.

Ah. Well, memo to self, do not go near the moat. Whatever it was that was in there, was obviously scary enough to protect the oasis from night beasts and sand pirates.

When they stepped off the drawbridge, Nero pulled their tarnid to a stop. The rest of their group followed them, everyone accounted for. Blue’s chest was heaving from the run into the camp. Blaine was covered in blood and scratches, but from the furious look on his set face, he was fine.

A group of uniformed oasis security officers surrounded them, all wearing pale trousers and tunics, topped with dark scarves around their necks and heads.

A tall, athletic woman stepped forward. Her scarf was pushed down off her dark, braided hair, and her tough face was tattooed with dark ink on one side. She wore dark kohl around her eyes.

“It looks like you’ve had an eventful day. I am Branda, head of security. Welcome to the Tent City Oasis, travelers.”

***

Nero ignored the stinging pain on his back as a robed attendant showed their group to their tents.

The tent city was set around a small oasis pool. There was also a large tent near the water that covered the dining area. Hundreds of small, circular tents dotted the rest of the area inside the moat, most tucked in under the desert trees.

Their attendant was explaining the high-tech plumbing system that piped water from the oasis to the tents. He stopped to wave Saff and Blaine into a tent. Next was Galen, then one by one, the others in their group.

They’d all agreed to meet in the dining area for a meal after everyone had freshened up. Nero was seeing Winter to her tent himself. The attack had left him edgy. With a small bow, the attendant waved Winter into a tent.

“Gladiator, your tent is right next door,” the man said in an even voice. “As requested.”

“Thank you.” Nero slipped the man a coin.

Winter ducked through the fabric and stepped inside. “Amazing.” She turned around, taking in the draped fabric of the ceiling. “And it smells fabulous, too.”

The scent was pungent to Nero’s senses, but not unpleasant. It made him think of smoky wood and desert fires. Over on a small side table, he saw several sticks burning in a clay pot.

While the tents were all a plain white on the outside, the inside was filled with jewel-toned fabrics in lots of textures—woven, smooth, silky, and furry. The sleeping area consisted of a large pile of vibrant pillows, and a drape of purple silk cordoned off an area for bathing.

Winter moved around, stroking all the fabrics. He saw that she took great pleasure in the different textures. Then she turned to look at him, her milky eyes gleaming in the shadows.

“I smell blood, again,” she said.

“It’s only a scratch. Blaine was hurt much worse.”

“And Saff bullied him into seeing the oasis healers. Do I need to get rough with you, barbarian?”

He just raised a brow.

Her lips quirked. “Okay, so the image of me wrestling you into submission is kind of amusing.”

The image of her wrestling him back onto the pile of pillows behind her, suddenly made heat shoot through him, and his cock hardened. The air turned charged.

Winter’s cheeks flushed with color, and she cleared her throat. “Go check out your tent, and I’ll bring my medical kit.” She made a shooing motion with her hand.

Nero hesitated, one hand curling into a fist. Then he blew out a breath. He didn’t have much choice; they were meeting the others soon.

He ducked out and strode over to his own tent. Inside, he dropped his bag on the floor, and crossed straight to the bathing area. There was a small tub and sink. He splashed some water on his face, washing away the grime of the journey. He wished it was icy cold, instead of lukewarm, but it did the job.

“Nero?” Winter entered the tent, carrying her small kit.

He pushed the fabric aside. She’d taken a few minutes to wash and change. She wore those maddening trousers that clung to her perfectly shaped bottom, and a shirt in a brilliant green that looked lovely against her skin. The neckline dipped at the front, showing him delicate collarbones and the hint of her breasts.

“Strip off the shirt,” she demanded.

He worked the fastenings of his shirt loose and yanked it off. He saw the back of it was in tatters, and stained with blood. Winter hadn’t moved. He looked up and saw her staring at his chest and his tattoos on his left arm and side.

Then she blinked and moved behind him. She let out a hiss.

“What?”

“You’ve got a deep gouge, here.” The gentle press of her fingers on his skin.

Nero closed his eyes, steeling himself against the sensation of her touch. Her hands were moving professionally and methodically. They shouldn’t make him think of her lying back on top of those furs, writhing beneath him.

“All in all, you were lucky.” She started cleaning his scratches with quick, economical movements of those clever hands.

“It wasn’t after me,” he said.

Her hands stilled. “What?”

“It was trying to get to you. I was just in the way.”

“Why the hell would the robot be after me?”

He didn’t have an answer for her, but he was sure as drak going to find out. After a second, she got back to work. Once his wound was clean, she started smoothing on med gel, and Nero gritted his teeth. Each gentle stroke of her hand was torment. His cock was pressing hard against his trousers.

“Okay, there we go.” Her voice was husky. She stepped back, and he heard her packing things away.

The air in the tent was thick and charged. It would be so easy to grab her and toss her down on the pillows. He had to get a grip on this. They were on a dangerous mission, and he had one priority—keeping her safe.

“I’ll meet you shortly to go to dinner,” he told her.

“Right. I’d better put this away and…finish getting ready.” She shot him one last look—it was full of heat.

Neither of them moved.

He groaned. “The others are waiting for us.”

“I know.”

“Go. Now. If I touch you…”

She smiled. “That isn’t much of a threat.” She ducked out of the tent.

Nero released a harsh breath. He felt hot. Like his skin was too small for his body. He moved back to the bathing area and splashed more water on his face and chest. It didn’t help. He figured he needed one of Symeria’s frozen lakes to cool himself down.

Finally, he pulled on clean clothes and headed to Winter’s tent. She was waiting for him, and wordlessly, they headed to the dining tent. The suns were setting, spilling an orange glow over the oasis and reflecting off the small pool of water.

“The sunset is turning the water orange,” he told her.

She smiled. “Is it pretty?”

“Sure. I guess so.”

“What? Barbarian gladiators aren’t allowed to say pretty?”

“No. It’s a rule.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you just make a joke, Nero?”

He barely resisted the urge to smile. He nodded at the guards near the entrance to the dining tent, and pushed the fabric aside for Winter to enter.

Inside, low tables were scattered around, surrounded by pillows. A man with pale skin, long arms, and seven fingers on each hand sat strumming a stringed instrument at the far end of the tent. The inside was lit by bowls of glowing stones, no doubt carved from desert rocks that were known to absorb energy and release it slowly.

Winter took a deep breath. “The food smells good, but it’s a little dark in here for me.”

He took her arm, leading her over to where he saw the others already seated.

Galen sat at the head of the table, leaning back on a large gray pillow. It didn’t make the imperator look any less dangerous. The others were all there—Lore sprawled on his side, Thorin plowing through a platter of food on the table, Blaine with his arm around Saff, and Raiden and Kace sitting up straight. Kace looked like he’d fight an arena of gladiators for a real chair. Corsair sat at the other end of the table, sipping a brewed drink.

Winter glanced at Galen. “Blue?”

“He didn’t want to come to the dining tent,” the imperator said. “I ordered food to be delivered to his tent.”

As Winter dropped gracefully onto a pillow, Nero scanned the room. No one appeared to be paying them much attention. A few men were eyeing Winter with interest—either due to her small form or her eyes. Nero scowled at them and they all turned away.

As he sat, Lore caught his gaze, amusement dancing in his eyes. Nero ignored his fight partner and focused on the servers setting down new platters of food.

They were filled with small, bite-sized desert delicacies—strange cooked and raw meats, pieces of the few vegetables that grew in the desert, and the sweet fruits that grew on the oasis trees.

He watched Winter taking it in. She was breathing deeply, sampling the smells, and rubbing one hand on the fabric of the cushion beneath her.

“Eat.” He plucked up a bit of meat and handed it to her.

She smiled, nibbling on it. “That’s good.”

“Catalyst knows we’re here,” Galen said.

The group fell silent at the imperator’s dark pronouncement, and Winter fidgeted beside Nero. He reached out and grabbed her hand.

“It changes nothing.” Galen’s tone was as hard as rock. “We need to be more vigilant, but nothing will stop us.” The imperator lifted his drink.

“For now, enjoy your meal and recharge,” Corsair said. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning and you’ll find out what a demanding mistress the desert can be.”

“How long will it take us to reach desert wraith territory?” Galen asked.

“If we make good time, by midday.”

Galen nodded. “Good. I don’t want to risk another attack by the swarm of robots.”

“We’ll be better prepared this time,” Raiden said. He glanced at Winter. “Lucky for us Winter has a good hand with a pulse pistol.”

As the group ate, the tension in the air eased a little, with everyone talking and laughing. Nero put a few more delicacies on Winter’s plate, watching as she savored each flavor.

Soon other musicians joined the lone man, and the music changed. Dancers, both male and female, came onto the stage. They all wore billowing trousers in bright colors, and scarves twined around their chests. They started dancing, dipping and whirling, to the strings, drums, and large crashing cymbals.

Saff leaned across the table. “Winter, you’re getting quite a lot of attention.”

Winter blinked. “I am?” She moved her head. “It’s dark in here, so I can’t see much.”

“The contrast of your dark hair and pale skin is fascinating for men. And you’re small. That seems to drive men into a ‘must protect’ frenzy.”

Raiden snorted. “You should tell Harper this theory.”

“She’s small, too.” Saff grinned. “But deadly with a sword.” The female gladiator nodded toward the far side of the tent. “You can take your pick, Winter. Those three men over there haven’t taken their eyes off you since you arrived.”

Nero scowled at the men. They were all tall, with the tanned skin of people who made their life in the desert. They were looking at Winter as though she were a shiny toy.

“I’m sure they’re all…nice,” Winter said diplomatically. “What do you think, Nero?”

“Me?”

“You’re a man, and I can’t see them that well. What do you think? The one on the left seems the best looking.”

Nero crossed his arms over his chest. “The one looking at every woman in the room?”

Winter tapped a finger against her lips. “Okay, what about the middle one?”

Nero made a scoffing sound. “His clothes are full of holes, and torn. He looks like a man who can barely take care of himself, let alone provide for a woman as well.”

Saff leaned closer, her smile sharp and her gaze on Nero. “What about the final one? He looks well put-together.”

“Too smooth. Any sign of trouble, he’ll run. He can’t protect Winter.”

“I wasn’t going to ask him to go to war for me, barbarian.” Winter smiled and took a sip of her drink.

“I think it’s best you just focus on resting up for our journey tomorrow,” he said.

Soon, the dancing died down, and many of the guests left. Galen was the first of their group to stand. “I want to study our route for tomorrow.”

“You paid me a lot of money to worry about the route, Galen,” Corsair said.

“I know, but I never leave anything to chance.” Galen nodded at them. “Good night.”

Soon the others started to leave. The stars were out in full force as Nero walked Winter back to her tent. They stopped in front of her doorway, a faint glow coming from inside—warm and welcoming.

“So,” Winter said.

She looked beautiful in the starlight. Her hair was as dark as night, but her skin glowed. She looked up at him.

Nero’s muscles locked. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she whispered.

“You know what,” he growled.

“Like a woman who’s thinking about a man naked?”

He hissed out a breath and took a step closer. She backed up against the side of the tent. “Winter, you do not want to test me right now. My control is not what it should be.”

Her chest hitched. Losing the battle, Nero leaned closer, his gaze going to those plump lips of hers.

Voices nearby. Lore’s laugh, followed by the rumble of Thorin’s voice.

Nero jerked back. God, what was he doing? They had a dangerous mission that needed their attention.

He gave her a stiff nod. “Good night, Winter. Get some sleep.”

A quiet sigh. “Good night, Nero.”

Chapter Ten

Winter woke in the darkness.

For a second, she was disoriented. Where was she? For the briefest moment, she was back in her bed in her apartment in Denver.

Memories cascaded, dominated by the Thraxians. She sat up and blew out a breath. Not with the Thraxians anymore, Winter. You’re House of Galen, now.

She reached over and slapped her hand around until she found her vision device on the bedside table. She pressed it to her temple, and when not much happened, her heart clenched. She didn’t want to go back to the darkness.

That’s when she remembered how dark the desert was. She leaned over and opened the small box of glowstones that sat next to the bed. Light spilled across the tent in shades of blue.

She scrubbed her hand across her face. What had woken her? She’d been exhausted after their ride and the escape from the robots. Her internal clock told her it was still the middle of the night.

A shadow moved at the edge of the tent.

She froze, concentrating on the blackness. Had she imagined it?

A dark shape, barely visible, detached itself from the shadows, flowing toward her.

It looked like smoke.

The smoke moved, coalescing into a familiar robot shape—a dome head with arms dangling beneath it. She heard the high-pitched humming now.

It launched at her.

Winter threw herself to the side and rolled off the cushions. She hit the rug covering the floor, and scrambled on her hands and knees. She had to get out of there, or reach her pulse pistol. It was currently buried in her bag.

She snatched up a pillow and tossed it behind her. It was a direct hit, but instead of slowing the robot down, or causing the robot to swerve away, the pillow passed right through it. She gasped. The robot wasn’t solid. It was made of a swarm of tiny robots. As she watched, they instantly started to reform. One arm moved, and the light glinted off a sharp blade attached to the end.

God. Winter grabbed another pillow, tossed it, then she leaped to her feet and ran.

She miscalculated the location of the door flap and hit solid fabric. Where the hell was the entrance? She thrust her palms against the side of the tent, making her way around the circular wall. Damn, she’d gotten turned around, and now she had no idea where the doorway was.

Screw this. She dived back toward the robot, rolling beneath it. She landed near the bed, and next to where she’d left her sheathed knife. Her hand closed around leather. Quickly, she grabbed the hilt of her knife, and yanked it out. Jumping up, she ran for the tent wall, and rammed the knife into the tough fabric. Grunting, she slid the knife down, slicing the fabric.

Winter squeezed through the hole she’d made, and pushed out into the night air. Glowstone torches lit the paths. She did a quick scan around, her heart pumping hard. Her first thought was to get to Nero, but she realized she was on the opposite side to his tent.

A buzzing noise sounded inside her tent.

Shit. She spun, and then she heard curses and shouts a few tents over. Lights flared and flickered.

The sound of the heavy tent material tearing reached her, as jagged blades cut through her tent and the robot burst out.

Oh, no. Winter turned and sprinted for the noise and lights.

She barreled around another tent and skidded to a halt, throwing her arms up. A bare-chested Blaine was swinging his sword in brutal, unforgiving movements at two hovering robots. They were dodging impossibly fast to avoid his blows.

Nearby, Saff was belly-down on the ground, pinned by another robot. It had a blade thrust right through the struggling gladiator’s left bicep. Saff was swearing in guttural words Winter’s translation implant didn’t recognize.

Blaine roared and swung around. He was covered in small cuts, blood running down his dark skin.

Winter had to help. She tightened her hand on her knife, knowing it wouldn’t do much good against the robots, unless she got a solid stab to the lights. But damn, these robots were moving too fast.

Looking around, panic clogging her throat, she tried to think of something to do. The flare of the glowstone torches was bright in her vision. The torches were long and sturdy, made of metal.

She yanked one out of the ground. Hefting it, she raced toward Blaine’s closest opponent. It was facing away from her. She swung the torch with all her strength.

Clang. She struck at the robot. Hard. It flew wildly off to the side.

“Winter, get back!” Blaine yelled.

Suddenly, the robot righted itself, and spun around. It sunk a clawed arm into Blaine’s chest. Blood spurted, and Blaine’s hoarse cry cut through the night.

No!

Winter took one step toward Blaine, when something snagged in the back of her sleep shirt and yanked her backward. She spun and saw a robot dragging her backward. Her heels dug into the sand, digging a deep track.

Anger and adrenaline exploded and she swung the torch. One of the robot’s arms clamped onto the metal torch and with a crunch, it broke in two. Oh, God. She started kicking and screaming.

The robot jerked her around, and her hair caught on something, a hank of it tearing out. It jerked her again and she fell to her knees. She saw the other robot dragging a groaning Blaine into the shadows.

Her robot started dragging her after him.

A huge shape charged out of nowhere and slammed into the robot, knocking her to the side. She heard fabric tear.

Nero.

He slammed several heavy punches into the robot, his face set in brutal lines. She heard the crunch of metal, and she was released. She tumbled into the sand.

“Help Saff,” Nero shouted.

Winter pushed to her feet. She grabbed another torch out of the ground and rushed over to the female gladiator. With a cry, Winter swung the torch like a baseball bat. It slammed into the robot pinning Saff.

Like the one that had attacked her in her tent, it separated into a thousand tiny pieces. But Saff was free.

Winter grabbed the woman’s arm, helping her up. Saff groaned but quickly reached for her sword lying in the sand nearby.

The robot reformed.

“Drakking sand-sucking crudspawn.” Saff swung her sword at the machine.

The female gladiator attacked the robot with a hard-hitting ferocity fueled by pain and fury. The robot tried to fragment again, but Saff was too quick. Metal dented and tore open like a split can.

Winter heard harsh grunts and turned to see Nero and Blaine, back to back, fighting another robot.

It was moving blindingly fast.

“Distract it,” Nero yelled.

Blaine nodded, jumped in front of the robot, almost close enough to touch it. It focused on Blaine, lights blinking and arms lifting.

Nero leaped out of the shadows and landed on top of the machine.

The robot dipped, struggling under Nero’s immense weight. It swung its arms wildly, spinning around. Nero was gripping it, his face straining as he worked to tear it apart.

One solid arm slammed into Blaine’s head. The power of the blow lifted the man off his feet, sending him flying through the air and smashing into the tent behind him. The entire structure collapsed in on top of him.

“Blaine!” Saff screamed.

Nero gripped the robot’s head harder and heaved. Winter watched, heart in her throat.

Saff sprinted past Winter, her long legs pumping. She took a giant, running leap, flew through the air, and landed on the robot with Nero. Under the weight of both gladiators, the robot smashed to the ground.

“Stand back,” Saff snarled. She lifted her sword.

With wild, powerful hits, she hacked the robot to bits, tearing its electronic guts out.

Winter snapped out of the fog that had caught her. She heard other voices and running steps, but she ignored them and raced over to the mass of material and support poles that had buried Blaine.

God, was he okay? She scrabbled through the pile, digging until she touched skin. “Blaine?”

He was facedown, and not moving. She knelt beside him, and struggled to roll him over. She grunted. Damn, he was all muscle and heavy as hell.

He was also covered in blood, the wetness sticky on her fingers.

“Drak, Blaine.” Saff dropped down beside them, pressing a hand to Blaine’s cheek.

Winter checked him over. “He’s not breathing.” She tipped his head back and started resuscitation. Breath. Breath. “Come on, Blaine.” Breath. Breath.

He’d survived too much to give up now. She’d seen how much he and Saff loved each other.

Winter kept working, fighting to get him breathing. She felt fingers brush her shoulder in silent support. Nero.

She felt a surge of energy, and kept going. She was horribly aware of Saff’s tense attention. The gladiator was clutching Blaine’s hand.

Come on, Blaine. Winter refused to lose him. She’d keep working on him all night, if she had to.

A second later, Blaine inhaled sharply. He jerked under her hands, his big body heaving. His dark eyes opened, and Saff made a strangled sound.

Exhausted, Winter sat back on her heels, rubbing a hand over her face.

“What did I miss?” Blaine asked, his voice husky.

Saff leaned down and pressed her forehead against his. “Do not do that to me again, Earthman.”

“The oasis medical team is here.” Galen’s authoritative voice rumbled above them.

Winter looked up, and saw they were surrounded by the other House of Galen gladiators. Several robed medical team members moved forward, kneeling beside Blaine.

Nero pulled Winter out of the way. Nearby, she saw Branda directing her security officers. They were collecting the scraps of the robots.

When Nero tugged Winter into his arms, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him and held on tight.

***

Nero fought the urge to pace. He and the rest of the team were waiting for news on Blaine, outside the medical tent.

The oasis medical team had been working on him for over an hour.

“This feels just like a damn hospital waiting room,” Winter said. She had her arms wrapped around her middle.

Nearby, Saff was sitting on a stool someone had brought for her. She had a white bandage over her arm wound. She alternated between looking pale and upset, and looking like she wanted to punch something.

“He’ll be fine.” Winter’s voice was calm and steady. “He’s strong, and he was conscious.”

“And he was cursing all the way here,” Raiden added.

Saff looked up, her dark gaze going to Winter. “He was fine and conscious because of you, Winter. Thank you.”

Nero watched Winter nod. She looked wrung out and exhausted, dark circles beneath her eyes. He hated seeing her like that. He moved closer and wrapped an arm around her.

When she leaned her head on his shoulder, Nero felt a shot of warmth in his chest. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Something woke me. I’d heard a noise. One of those robots was in my tent.”

He rubbed a hand up and down her back. “They aren’t going to get you.” He’d spend every hour tracking this drakking Catalyst and then he’d tear him and his robots apart.

“They were trying to drag me off,” she said quietly. “And Blaine.”

Nero went still. “Humans.”

Winter blinked, looking up at him. “What?”

“The robots are hunting humans.”

“Why? What does this Catalyst want with us?” Winter pulled away, running her hands through her hair. “And what the hell has he done with Mia and Dayna?”

Nero reached for her and squeezed her hand. “We don’t know. But we’re going to find them and bring them home.”

She closed her eyes.

“It doesn’t pay to imagine all the terrible scenarios I know you’re conjuring in your head. For now, focus on the fact that both you and Blaine are okay.”

She opened her eyes, and slowly nodded. Just then, the man in question swept out of the medical tent. He was shirtless and scowling, but the ugly wounds on his chest were coated in med gel and already healing.

Galen stepped forward and stared into Blaine’s face. Then he nodded. “Okay?”

“I’m okay,” Blaine growled. “But I want to find this fucking Catalyst and rip his head off.”

Saff moved up to Blaine, and the man wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

“All right, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.” Galen’s cool gaze moved past them and landed on the increased security nearby. “Branda has promised personal security outside all our tents, and she’s stepped up patrols around the oasis. It seems these robots streamed in like insects.” A muscle ticked in the imperator’s jaw. “They won’t get past her and her team so easily again. The oasis prides itself on the protection it provides for its guests. Everyone get some sleep.”

As they walked toward their tents, Nero saw that Winter was subdued and lost in thought. They reached her tent and he saw her looking at a now-repaired slit in the wall. When they reached the door flap, her hand reached out and gripped his arm.

“Nero, would you…come in for some tea?”

Alone with Winter in her tent. “Winter—”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she said baldly.

“Sure.”

As they ducked inside her tent, he guessed that someone had been in to tidy the place. There were no signs of her fight with the robot. Anger flared. He’d been fucking asleep, while she’d been fighting for her life.

She moved over to the long, narrow table and started making some tea.

Not sure what to do with himself, Nero paced around the tent.

“I’m so relieved Blaine’s okay.” She moved over and handed Nero a cup.

He wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but right now, he just wanted to see her relaxed and comfortable.

“He is a gladiator. And a survivor. Tomorrow, we’ll find Catalyst, and then we’ll find your friends. This will all be over soon, and we will all be safe, back at the House of Galen.”

She nodded and released a breath. “I know.” He watched as she poured another cup of tea. She took it and settled down on the cushions.

He watched her, or rather, watched the large shirt she wore slide off one shoulder, exposing smooth, pale skin.

Nero stared at that bare shoulder, couldn’t take his gaze off it. He wondered if her skin was as pale all over. He’d tasted her and given her pleasure, but he wanted her naked.

She looked up, and saw that he was watching her.

“I have some snacks as well.” She shot to her feet, and came back with a plate of small, sweet desserts. She grabbed one petite delicacy. “Here.” She pressed it to his mouth.

Her fingers brushed against his lips. He felt the small touch like electricity skating through him. His gaze flicked up to meet hers.

Her chest was rising and falling faster than it should be. With a groan, Nero gave in to the hard longing inside him. He flicked his tongue out and licked her fingers. Her breath caught.

Drak it. Nero decided to stop thinking for once. To let his instincts take over, and take what he wanted. What they both wanted.

He tossed his empty cup aside and yanked Winter into his lap.

She gasped and he covered her mouth with his. He pillaged her mouth, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, Winter moaned and slicked her tongue against his. Desire was an insistent roar in his head, and was spreading through his body.

He drank her in, and she kissed him back hungrily, her hands sinking into his hair, pulling roughly. She made husky little sounds that drove him crazy.

Nero had never needed a woman as much as he needed Winter. This wasn’t desire, it was something hotter, harder, and hungrier.

Letting instinct drive him, he pushed her back on the pillows and covered her body with his.

Chapter Eleven

Desire was a hot, delicious rush through Winter. She nipped at Nero’s lips. “I need you to touch me. I need you inside me.”

His hands clenched on her skin. He looked down at her, so big and intimidating, and she wished she could see the color of his eyes.

“You’re only using me for bedsport?” He shifted, caging her between his arms.

Her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to touch him so badly. “Yes. And I’m planning to do it a lot. Are you okay with that?”

One of his rare smiles broke out. “Yes, I think I am.”

He leaned down and kissed her. Winter moaned against his lips and gave herself up to the kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth and she wound her arms around him, kissing him back desperately. She felt big hands slide down her body, cupping her breasts. Seconds later, he was pushing her sleep shirt up and off.

“You are so slight, delicate—”

A sour feeling tried to push through her desire. “I know I’m not a warrior woman.”

“Shh.” One of his hands moved over her breast, plucking at her nipple. “You’re so pretty, Winter. I’ve been imagining what you look like naked for a very long time.”

“Really?” She arched into his touch.

“I’ve tasted you, watched you come on my mouth, but I haven’t had the pleasure of you naked beneath me.” With a growl, he leaned down and sucked her nipple into his mouth. He took his time, seeming to enjoy wringing husky cries out of her. The stubble on his jaw scraped her sensitive skin, and his mouth and tongue…oh, boy.

When he took his mouth away, she reached for him. He leaned back, hooking his fingers in her underwear. Seconds later, he pulled them down her legs.

He paused, just looking at her. He ran a hand down her leg, like he was mesmerized by her skin. Like she was something he needed to be careful with.

She grabbed his wrist. “Don’t treat me like I’m delicate or breakable.”

His burning gaze met hers. “I have no intention of doing that.”

He leaned back down, pressing kisses across her belly. Desire flared, pooling between her legs. She moved restlessly on the cushions, and when he nudged her legs apart, anticipation almost sent her jumping out of her skin.

“I need to know,” Nero said, voice low.

“Know what?” she panted.

“How much you want me.”

“So much.” Couldn’t he tell?

“I need to see for myself.” His fingers stroked through the curls between her legs. Then he ran them through her slick heat.

Winter bit down on her lip, shifting her hips.

“You’re so wet for me, Winter. And I know how sweet you taste.” One thick finger pushed inside her.

She moaned, trying to hold on to her sanity, as he thrust his finger in and out.

“Drak, you’re tight. You’ll squeeze my cock so hard when I slide inside you.”

She was panting hard, and when his thumb worked through her folds and found her clit, her cry echoed around the tent. She drew in a breath. “Heard you guys have been talking about the differences with human women.”

Nero made a sound that was part rumble, part laugh. “Lore has mentioned his fascination with this little nub.” He slid a second finger inside her, his thumb working her clit.

Winter tossed her head back and closed her eyes. There was so much sensation crashing down on her: the heavy heat of Nero, the smell of her arousal in the air, the slick fabric beneath her bare skin, the pleasure-pain stretch of his big fingers inside her.

“Need to taste your sweetness again.” He withdrew his fingers and lifted them to his mouth.

She watched as he licked them clean, her eyes widening and her belly contracting. She’d suspected Nero wouldn’t be a nice, circumspect lover. He’d be bold and do exactly as he pleased.

He moved backward. “I need more.”

Before she could prepare herself, his mouth was on her thigh, teeth scraping over her skin.

Oh, God.

“Going to eat all that sweetness of yours. I think eating you could become an addiction.”

His tongue speared through her folds. Winter cried out, and then he was lapping at her. He kept at it with bold strokes of his tongue. His hands slid beneath her to cup her bottom, lifting her to his mouth. She helped him, raising her hips up.

When his lips closed over her clit and he sucked, she screamed.

He groaned against her and she felt the vibration through her most sensitive parts. Her orgasm crashed over her with the force of a vicious, unforgiving storm. She screamed again…this time Nero’s name.

He lifted his head, his face filled with satisfaction. “Again.”

What? “Nero, I—”

His mouth closed over her again. She sank her hands into his hair and held on. He didn’t stop until she came again.

Winter flopped back on the cushions, limp, her heartbeat a rapid thunder in her ears.

Suddenly, Nero stood, and started stripping his shirt off with jerky movements. She watched him and her mouth dropped open.

She was a doctor, she’d seen naked men before. And gladiators didn’t wear a lot of clothes, so she’d eyed some pretty impressive specimens lately. But she hadn’t been this close to masculine perfection…ever.

She wished desperately to see him in color, but the vision device did allow her to see all the ropes of hard muscle, and the tightly-packed abdomen.

Not to mention, the long, thick bulge pushing against the leather of his trousers. She licked her lips. He moved back to the cushions and she rose up on her knees.

“Stop,” she whispered before he sat down. “Let me…study you.”

She pressed her hands against the ridges of his stomach, tracing the dips. She stroked across his sides and all the hard muscles there. She traced over the fascinating and sexy tattoos down his left arm and side. She wasn’t surprised to see they were all of wild beasts and weapons. She heard his breath catch, and she liked that.

“You’re…not real,” she said.

“I’m real.” His voice was so deep, she could barely make out the words.

“You’re perfect. No fat on you, just big, with all these muscles.” She kept exploring him, scraping her nails down his muscled thighs. She felt him tense.

She looked up at him. “Take off your trousers.”

He didn’t move, so she grabbed the fastening herself.

Nero’s hands closed over hers. “Winter. My control is…far lower than usual.”

His words sent a thrill through her. She, tiny, blind Winter from Earth, was driving this big barbarian gladiator beyond his iron-hard control.

“Don’t worry,” she murmured. “I’ll be gentle with you.”

He made a growling sound, and she wrenched open the fastenings. He helped her shove his trousers down.

A long, large cock sprang free, right in front of her. Oh, Jesus.

Eagerly, she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him. She wondered how something could be so hard and so soft at the same time. As she kept tugging on him, he groaned.

Curious, she leaned forward, licking the swollen mushroom head of him. She tasted musk and man, and her desire flared again.

He made a snarling sound and it excited her.

“Take me, Winter. Suck my cock into your mouth.”

Her belly clenched and she opened her mouth around him. His hand slid into her hair and she let him guide her. She ran her tongue along his length, opening her mouth wider to take more of him. Her eyes watered as she adjusted to the size of him, but as she sucked harder, he groaned.

Winter felt like a temptress. She, Winter Ashworth, was driving big Nero Krahn out of his mind.

“Grip me harder, Winter.” His words were guttural. “Take me deeper.”

She followed his directions and looked up at him. His big body was trembling, perspiration sheening his skin. She bobbed her head, sucking him harder. She moaned around him and felt his fingers tighten in her hair.

Suddenly, she found herself pulled off him and shoved back onto the pillows.

She looked up as her big barbarian loomed over her, his big body pinning hers to the cushions.

***

Nero was on the edge.

He wasn’t used to desire like this. So all-consuming and battering against his control.

He liked to tussle with a woman when it suited him. But it was usually fast and to the point. Not all this slow exploration, this driving need inside him that was louder than his heartbeat.

Defend. Protect. Claim. He wanted to stamp his claim on Winter, so everyone, including her, would know who she belonged to.

But she didn’t want or need that. She was a woman still finding her feet in this new world that was now her home. She’d asked for friendship and sex. That was all.

Still, barbarian blood ran in his veins.

“Mine.” He settled between her slim legs. “You’re all mine tonight.”

She arched up into him. “Yes.”

“I want to make you scream, Winter.”

“Please.”

He shoved her thighs apart, running his fingers over her. She was so soft and wet for him, the slickness of her juices coating her, preparing her for him. The scent of her arousal was lodged deep in his senses. “I can’t wait to feel you squeeze around me.”

Nero pulled back just enough and circled his cock. He rubbed the head of it against her, running it against her slick folds. It looked so big and brutish against her smooth skin and pretty curls.

He notched his cock against her, then lifted his gaze to her face. He wished he could see what the real color of her eyes was, but that milky white had become so familiar to him. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t read anything from her eyes, because her pretty face was so expressive. Everything she felt skittered across her features and, right now, the hungry, flushed look on her face said it all.

He pushed inside her. As her warmth closed around him, he gritted his teeth. He wanted to slam inside her, but he knew he was too big. He had to take care of her. Protect her. Even from himself.

“Oh… So big.” Her moan was long and loud.

“You can take me.” He kept pushing inside her. He needed to bottom out in her warm depths.

She reached up, her hands gripping his shoulders. Then her nails scratched down his back. She whimpered.

“Relax,” he said. “Take me.” He felt a primal hunger in him, beating against his control. Take. Go deep. Brand her.

“I am.” She moved under him, trying to shift her hips up to meet him. “Move, Nero.”

He shifted, rolling them so he was on his back and her on top. She moaned, resettling astride him. She lifted her hips, then sank down on his cock. She moaned.

“I like this,” she said huskily.

He liked it, too. There wasn’t a prettier sight than Winter’s sweet breasts jiggling as she moved above him. “Ride me, Winter.”

She circled her hips, then moved. Up and down, she pressed her hands against his chest, driving her hips down on him.

“Take all of me.”

“There is so much of you,” she said with another moan.

By the blade, he loved watching his cock slide inside her tight, hot body. He reached out and found her clit, rubbing it hard. “That’s it, Winter. You’re so sweet and hot.”

She moved faster, her pale skin flushed. “I’m going to come,” she cried.

“Come.”

And suddenly her body started shaking and she squeezed down on his cock.

Drak. His control broke. Nero reared up and pushed her back into the cushions. He spread her legs, shoving her knees up to her chest, and slammed back into her.

She let out a long moan. “Yes! Move, Nero.”

He obeyed, and started thrusting into her. Hard and unforgiving. He tilted her hips to a better angle, his cock sliding deep. “You crashed into my life, Winter. It was just how I liked it, but you turned everything upside-down. I feel like I’ve wanted you forever.”

She was making small, husky noises beneath him. As lost in the desire as he was.

Nero reached down and found her hands. He pressed them above her head, interlocking their fingers. His gaze was locked on her face, watching every emotion. He kept thrusting into her and her hips arched up to meet his. She took everything he gave her and wanted more.

When she came again, it was his name torn from her lips. Brutal sensations slammed into Nero. His thrusts lost any sense of rhythm, and he felt his own release sliding up his spine. It exploded and he came with a roar, spilling himself inside Winter.

He collapsed beside her, and pressed his face against her neck, drawing in the scent of her. “Mine.”

Chapter Twelve

Winter woke to the sounds of people moving outside her tent, and with her cheek pressed to warm skin. She blinked and realized she was wound around Nero.

Nero. Oh, God.

She blinked again and remembered all the things they’d done to each other. She bit down on her lip. So many dirty, sexy things. He shifted beneath her, one big hand clenching on her thigh. He slid her leg up and she felt the press of a hard cock against her skin.

“Awake?” His voice was a sleepy rumble. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Good.” He rolled her off him, until she was pressed facedown on the cushions. Before she could say anything, he was behind her, his hands clamping on her hips and raising them.

His thighs brushed the back of hers, and then she felt the prod of his cock between her legs. She bit back a cry, and then he slid inside her.

A moan was ripped from her throat. She was a little tender from their night of lovemaking, and he felt huge.

He thrust into her, finding a steady rhythm. One big hand slid over her hip and down her belly. A second later, his finger found her clit.

“You’re…obsessed,” she managed to get out. He’d spent a lot of time playing with the tiny nub.

“So fascinating.” He rolled it between his fingers, making sensations arrow through her. She jerked against him. “Such a small thing that’s capable of great things.”

Winter managed a strangled laugh.

“It’s a bit like you,” he added.

His thrusts increased, and she felt twinges of sensation spill through her. She pushed back against him, meeting each thrust, hearing the slap of flesh. Oh, God.

“So tight. You love having me deep in your body, don’t you, Winter?”

“Yes.”

“You love being stretched around me.” His fingers moved, touching where he was spearing into her.

“Yes!”

Everything blurred. Nero was fucking her hard, harsh breaths escaping his chest. His finger came back to her slick clit, and, on the next thrust, her orgasm hit her so hard, she wasn’t sure she was going to stay conscious. She turned her head and bit into the cushion beneath her.

When Nero’s groan echoed above her, Winter felt a strong sense of rightness wash over her. His weight came down on her, pinning her to the pillows, and she’d never felt so good.

They lay there on the pillows, both of them breathing heavily. She rolled into him, pressing her face against his hard chest. She breathed in the woodsy scent of his skin.

“The camp’s waking up,” she said quietly.

“We should get ready.” His hand stroked down her back. “Galen will come looking for us if we’re late.”

“And the sooner we get moving, the sooner we find Dayna and Mia.” Reluctance making her move slowly, Winter rolled out of the cushions and away from his warmth. She missed it instantly.

Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. “Winter.”

She looked back. He lay there on the pillows, looking nothing like a desert king or sultan. He was a warrior to the bone. A conquering warrior claiming his spoils of war.

His hand slid up to her cheek, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. “I don’t have the words to describe last night.”

She flushed. “I know what you mean. All I can manage is…wow.”

A crooked smile. “Wow works.”

Keep it cool, Winter. “Right. Well, you need to get your lazy barbarian butt out of bed.” She stood up and tried to ignore the fact that he’d be looking at her bare ass. She headed over to the cordoned off area to wash and dress.

She ran some water in the small tub, and quickly stepped in and washed up. As she dragged the cloth between her thighs, she felt sore and swollen.

“We can eat here. There are a few snacks.” She arched her neck and raised her voice. “Do you want something to drink?”

“D’jar.”

Winter grimaced. D’jar was a drink that tasted like black sludge. It was like week-old coffee mixed with tar. She guessed barbarians drank it three times a day just to prove how badass they were.

She dried off and pulled on fresh clothes. As she pushed the curtain aside, a very naked Nero brushed past her. She headed to the small table with the drinks and food, and started brewing the d’jar in a small pot on a burner. Nero didn’t bother to close the curtain, and she had a perfect view of him as he washed.

Mesmerized, she watched rivulets of water slide over his muscles. She watched one small stream slip over the washboard abs.

“Winter?” His voice was amused. “I think the d’jar is ready.”

She jerked and saw the pot was close to overflowing. “Right.”

She poured the drink for him, and some juice for herself. He was dressing now, pulling on his trousers. She hated seeing all those muscles covered up. Her mouth went dry, her head filling with delicious memories of exploring those muscles.

“Winter, you keep looking at me like that, we’ll be late,” he said. “Galen will storm in here and get a view of me fucking you.”

Shaking her head, she finished making the drinks and preparing a plate of breakfast snacks—some sweet rolls, meats, fruits, and nuts. She popped some nuts in her mouth, and then made short work of packing her bag and med kit.

“Here, I have something for you.” Nero stepped up beside her, and started wrapping some fabric around her neck. “You lost the other scarf in the fight with the swarm.”

She fingered the piece. It felt like the softest silk.

“The edges are trimmed with balica fur,” he told her. “I know you enjoy feeling different textures.”

She felt the downy fur now, wondering what color it was. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve seen the way you stroke different fabrics and surfaces.” He smiled. “It’s fueled a few fantasies.”

He’d noticed the tiniest thing about her. She took a hasty sip of her juice. Keep it cool, Winter.

“I can feel that the suns will be scorching today.” Nero pulled the fabric up over her head. “This will help protect that pale skin of yours.” He stroked her skin. “I would hate to see it burned.”

Her breath hitched. God, how could she want him again?

He pressed a slow, hard kiss to her lips. “After this mission, I look forward to you using me for sex again.”

She licked her lips. “Me, too. I have lots of other things I want to do.”

His fingers tightened on her. “I look forward to them.”

They finished packing up and drank their drinks together.

It felt so…normal. She could almost forget that she was in a desert oasis on an alien planet, on the far side of the galaxy, drinking with a barbarian gladiator who’d been inside her all night.

Winter’s hand shook before she firmed it. She’d made a promise to herself that she’d make a life here, that she would enjoy herself. Nero would be a part of that.

But for now, her friends were her focus.

When they stepped outside the tent, it was still early, the first of Carthago’s large suns just pulling itself over the horizon. But Nero hadn’t been wrong, it was going to be hot. She could already feel the heat in the air.

They met the others by the tarnids. Winter tried to act normally, like she hadn’t spent the vast majority of the night naked with Nero. No one looked at her with a knowing gaze, or yelled “ah-ha!” at her.

Blaine was attaching saddlebags to his beast. He wore his leather trousers, and a harness across his chest. He looked fine, and none the worse for wear after the night’s attack. He glanced her way and smiled. She smiled back. He didn’t look like a security officer from Earth, anymore. He looked like he belonged here, a gladiator of the House of Galen.

Winter turned and spotted Blue standing not far from the animals, eyeing them with a scowl. He was shifting his feet in the sand. Clearly, he was eager to go.

“Blue? How are you today?”

He lifted those tortured eyes to hers. “I want to go. I want to find Mia.”

“We are going now.” Hesitantly, she reached out, touching his arm. He let her touch him, and didn’t pull away.

“You smell of the barbarian.”

“Oh.” Heat in her cheeks. “Well, I rode with him—”

For the first time, she saw a slight twist of Blue’s lips, like he was trying to smile. “I see the way you look at him.”

She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. “A lot of the time, he drives me crazy.”

“He watches you, too.”

Warmth spread through her belly.

Nero appeared. “Time to mount up.”

Winter was sure her flush deepened. Nero led her to their tarnid, and lifted her onto the back of the beast. A second later, his big body settled in behind hers. Branda had come to see them off, her amazing facial tattoos clear in the morning light. Then Galen and Corsair—on his quick, two-legged beast—led their group out across the drawbridge.

The desert lay ahead—harsh and unforgiving. Corsair turned them to follow a trail only he could see, and headed in the direction of some giant dunes in the distance. Soon the tarnids broke into a quick trot, and they left the Tent City Oasis behind them.

As they rode, the rising suns built the heat to outrageous levels. Winter pulled her head scarf up over her face, thankful for the cover. Soon, she saw the shimmer off heat of the ground. Every now and then, she glanced around, half expecting to see a swarm of robots incoming.

But there was just the clear, pale-blue sky of the hot day.

She enjoyed having Nero’s arms around her and listening to the conversation of the gladiators around her. They joked, teased, talked tactics—they were a family. All brought together by one man. She eyed Galen’s strong form ahead. An enigma, that one. He was the center of his House, and yet, she felt like he also kept himself separate at the same time.

A man who took care of others, took on the troubles of others, and asked very little in return.

“We’re getting close to desert wraith territory,” Nero said.

She looked around and only saw sand. The same thing she’d seen for the last few hours. “How can you tell?”

“Some very faint trails in the sand. They’ve been masked, but I can just make them out.”

Of course, he could.

Soon, she saw Corsair and Galen straighten in their saddles, pointing ahead. She strained to see what had grabbed their attention. It took a few more minutes, but then she saw the rock formations.

She leaned forward, staring at them. Each one was tall and made of bands of twisted rocks. Some forked off, with arms reaching in different directions. She got the impression of a forest made of stone.

Soon, they reached the rocks, and the tarnids passed the first formations. The wind whistled through the rocks and a sense of hushed reverence fell over Winter.

Nero’s arm tightened on her. “The rocks are made of bands of different colors. At the base, they’re very red, then they move through browns and creams.”

She smiled to herself, leaning back against him. Yes, her barbarian could be sweet when it suited him.

“Some of these bands have incredible striations,” he continued. “See that palest band?”

She nodded.

“It’s translucent, almost like glass.”

Suddenly, Blue jogged forward, his head tilted and his hands curled into fists. He made a harsh sound, and then he took off at a fast run, darting through the formations.

“Keep up with him,” Galen ordered.

Nero kicked their tarnid into a fast gallop. Winter held on tight as they sped around the formations, sand flying up behind the tarnid’s hooves.

Ahead, she saw Blue standing still in a small clearing. As Nero jerked the tarnid to a halt, she watched the alien man. He was staring ahead, looking deeper into a section of stone forest, where the rock formations were closer together, the shadows deeper.

Corsair slid off his beast and strode over to Blue. “What do you sense?”

Tension throbbed off Blue. “They’re here.”

Who were here? Winter looked around but only saw rocks and sand. Was he talking about Mia and Dayna?

Suddenly a shape detached itself from one of the rock formations. It flowed toward them.

She blinked. The long, lean form had pale skin, which was decorated with the same pattern as the rocks. But as it got closer, the skin tone changed, deepened, and she saw a long fall of dreadlocked hair.

Winter sucked in a breath. A desert wraith.

Nero went stiff as a board, and she heard the other gladiators mutter. There was the sound of swords sliding against leather as the gladiators all pulled out their weapons. Nero reached up and slid his sword from its scabbard.

As she watched, more tall forms appeared from the rocks, all of them holding spears, and what looked like some type of bow. Her pulse jumped. There were hundreds of them.

“We’re surrounded,” Nero ground out.

***

Nero knew it would be easy for strangers to dismiss the desert wraiths. They were tall, but very lean. And their weapons didn’t look particularly high tech, or advanced.

But he knew they were deadly. This was their terrain, and they knew every inch of it. Combined with their camouflage stealth, it made them very dangerous.

Corsair and Galen stepped forward to face the wraiths. Corsair spoke in an unfamiliar language Nero didn’t recognize. It was musical, soft like the wind, and Nero guessed it was the language of the desert.

The wraiths parted, and a figure sauntered forward. The female wraith had the same patterned skin, small, high breasts left bare, and trousers made of a scaled hide. Her hair was a dark, tangled mass streaked with white pigment. She moved like a hunting cat.

Blaine, Saff, Raiden, and Thorin all slid off their tarnids, tense and ready.

Corsair didn’t look back at them, but spoke quietly. “Stay back, and put your weapons away. Raising a weapon here would be a declaration of war.”

Nero’s hand clenched on the hilt of his sword. Every fiber of his being urged him to keep his weapon, that he needed it to protect Winter.

But when Galen nodded, Nero reluctantly slid the blade back in his scabbard.

The female studied Corsair, then spoke in the same musical language. A moment later, Corsair inclined his head.

“What did she say?”

“She complimented me on my morloch.” Corsair nodded at his two-legged animal. “The creatures don’t trust easily.”

Without warning, the desert wraiths all turned and disappeared back into the rock formations.

“We are to follow,” Corsair said. “The tarnids stay here.”

Nero looked unhappily at Lore. His fight partner didn’t look any happier about this development.

“Let’s go,” Galen said.

Nero slid off and looked up at Winter. “Winter—”

“If you are about to suggest I stay here, then you may as well stop now and save your breath.”

He heaved out a breath. It was the response he’d expected, but he’d had to try. He helped her down, and together, the members of the House of Galen followed Corsair into the stone formations.

They followed a narrow, winding path, and eventually came to another clearing. Here, an amphitheater had been cut into the rocky ground. Most of the wraiths were seated, watching and waiting.

The female leader stood in the center, waiting patiently for Galen and the others to join her. When they did, she used her spear to draw two circles in the sand. Then she stepped inside one and gracefully squatted inside it. She gestured.

Galen stepped into the second circle and squatted down.

An older male wraith stepped forward, carrying an animal skin and two cups. He poured whatever liquid was in the skin into the cups and handed them to the woman. She looked up, and Nero saw she had strange, gray eyes. She stared at Galen, and handed a cup to him.

The next few minutes were silent, as Galen and the woman sipped from the cups. Galen didn’t drop dead from poisoning, or react in any way, but Nero knew Galen had a high tolerance to poison—he’d been raised as a royal bodyguard, so testing food was a job requirement.

“We saw your women.” This time the leader spoke in a language their translation implants knew. “One with hair like the midday sun, and another with hair like this rock.” The woman pointed to a brown rock nearby.

“They were alive?” Galen asked. “Healthy?”

The wraith nodded. “But they were not happy.”

“They were taken against their will by this Catalyst.”

The wraith’s face didn’t change, but Nero got the impression the man’s name made her very unhappy. “He is a man who does not respect the desert.” Her voice was low and smooth, but Nero felt a faint chill. “He does not live with the desert, he brings his machines and equipment and forces the land to bend to his will.” Something dark flashed in her eyes. “He came here to hide his atrocities. He lives at the edges of our territory, and ventures in when it suits him. I also believe he is responsible for several of our people vanishing.”

“You know where he lives?” Galen asked. “Is that where he took our women?”

The wraith was silent, swirling her cup. She lifted it to her lips and drank. “The desert wind brings us many tales.”

Winter made a frustrated sound, and slipped away from Nero. He reached for her, but she dodged his hand, and strode forward.

Instantly, desert wraiths appeared, aiming their spears at her. Nero yanked out his sword and stepped in front of her. He heard his fellow gladiators draw their weapons too.

Winter sidestepped around him. “I’m not planning to hurt anyone. I just want to say that my friends are out there. Alone and afraid.”

The wraith leader’s gray gaze settled on Winter.

“We aren’t from your world. The Thraxians abducted us, kept us captive, and these people saved us.” Winter gestured at Galen and the gladiators. “We can never go home.” Her voice hitched. “But I will not let my friends be hurt or abused. They have a right to live. Please, do you know where they are?”

The wraith leader looked at her for a long time. “We saw the women with Catalyst. They were passing through our territory. Whether they are still with him now—” the woman held out her long-fingered hands “—I do not know.”

“Where is he?” Galen asked. “We will search his home and see if our women are there.” He paused. “We will also look for your people.”

“He has a lair, just outside the western border of our territory.” The woman frowned. “I warn you, it is a dangerous place. We have attempted to infiltrate it…but it is protected by strange and deadly technology. I have lost many fighters.”

“Could you draw us a map?”

The desert wraith shook her head, and Nero frowned.

But then the woman set down her cup and stood. “We will take you there.”

Chapter Thirteen

The large, flat-topped mountain rose up from the desert floor against the backdrop of the setting suns.

Heat radiated off the sand, and Winter stared at the mesa. Somewhere there, Mia and Dayna were being held.

A group of desert wraiths, led by the woman, ran ahead of their tarnids. They flew across the sand, running with a light, fluid gait. Blue followed behind them, watching them like a guard dog waiting for an attack.

The mountain got closer. It was made of darker rock, and looked as though it had been thrust up out of the sand. Overhead, birds wheeled around on thermals at a dizzying height.

“There.” The desert wraith leader pointed to one end of the mountain.

Galen held up a hand, and they all pulled their tarnids to a halt. Winter scanned the cliff face and finally saw it. A structure clinging to the side of the hill.

Wow. She hated whoever this Catalyst was, but this place was striking.

It was made of shiny metal and glass. There were different shapes attached to the side of the mountain—cubes, spheres, discs, and cylinders. Several were butted up against each other, while others were linked by covered walkways. She saw lights glowing in all the windows.

“Who is this guy?” she murmured.

But more importantly, what had he done with Dayna and Mia?

“I don’t give a drak,” Nero said darkly. “He preys on others, and enslaves them. He will pay for that.”

“What did you encounter when you tried to get in?” Galen asked.

The desert wraith stared at the lair, before looking back at the imperator. “Metal beings, enhanced guards with armor and weapons, glowing lights that burned and cause pain.”

“What does he do with all these people he takes?” Winter asked.

The leader shook her head. “We do not know.”

A shiver skittered down Winter’s spine.

“We’ll know soon,” Galen said. “And it will stop.”

“There’s a path up the hill there.” Raiden pointed, his brow furrowed. “But he’ll see us coming.”

Nero stood quietly, studying the structure and the surroundings. Winter watched his face and could almost feel him thinking, assessing.

“We come up from beneath it,” he said.

The gladiators all turned, studying the cliffs below the structure.

“The climb isn’t too far to the lowest level of the building.” Galen’s tone was considering. “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Winter blinked and stared at the cliff face. It looked pretty hard to her.

“Let’s do it,” Thorin said, clapping his big hands together.

Galen spun to face Corsair. “I need you to stay here with the tarnids.”

The caravan master’s face hardened. “I can fight just as well as your gladiators.”

“I know.”

A dangerous look crossed Corsair’s usually relaxed features. “I want to help take this sand sucker down.”

“But I need you here,” Galen said. “To be ready to get us out of here when we return…to raise the alarm if we don’t make it out. You need to contact Harper back at the House of Galen. She’ll know what to do.”

A muscle worked in Corsair’s jaw. He cursed, then gave a curt nod. “Fine.”

Winter turned back to the rock face. It wasn’t completely vertical, thankfully, and there were lots of ledges along it. She drew in a deep breath. She had to do this, for Dayna and Mia.

Nero gripped her shoulder. “You can stay here with Corsair and the tarnids.”

She glared at him.

He smiled. “I knew that would be your response. And…I understand. I’m sorry that I ever made you believe I thought you were weaker. You’re one of the strongest women I know.”

His gruff words sent warmth spreading through her. God, this hard-headed barbarian had gotten under her skin. She grabbed his hands, trying to find some words. No, not just under her skin but into her heart. Oh, God.

His smile widened. “Finally, I’ve rendered you speechless.”

She laughed. Her barbarian gladiator had made another joke. “It won’t last long. Enjoy it.”

“I do want to protect you, Winter,” he said. “You’ve suffered enough.”

“So have Dayna and Mia.”

He gripped her hand. “I’ll be right by your side the entire time.”

As the gladiators grabbed their weapons and supplies, the wraith leader stepped forward. “We cannot climb the mountain. We have already sacrificed too many to Catalyst’s lair.”

“I understand,” Galen said. “Thank you for your help.”

“If you see our people—”

The imperator nodded. “We will free them.”

Winter grabbed her small backpack, her medical supplies, and her knife. Their group moved to the base of the cliff. Raiden and Thorin went first, and started climbing. They moved up the rocks with speed and precision. Blue sped up the rocks, leaping from ledge to ledge with powerful jumps.

“Ready?” Nero asked.

Winter dragged in a deep breath and pressed her palms to the rock. It was close to burning hot under her skin. She pressed her boot into a crack and started up. Nero moved beside her, making it look easy, while she felt clumsy. Blaine and Saff moved past them, looking athletic and like they were having fun.

“Race you to the top, Earth man,” Saff called out.

“You’re on,” Blaine returned.

Winter ignored them and stubbornly continued upward. Just as her muscles started to burn from exertion, they reached the top. Nero reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her up onto a small plateau. Ahead, was the lowest metal cylinder of Catalyst’s lair.

She looked up, taking in all of the structure looming above them. It looked like a piece of modern art. As she studied the building, she saw a door slide open on the lowermost cylinder.

“Look,” she said.

The gladiators all spun, drawing their swords and weapons. Several large robots stepped out of the doorway. They were all carrying large axes.

Uh-oh. Winter guessed that Catalyst knew they were here.

***

Nero reached up and drew his sword.

He studied the incoming robots. They were fighting robots, like the ones they sometimes faced in the arena. Big, sturdy, with a humanoid shape.

Around him, his friends all held their weapons, ready and waiting.

Nero glanced back at Winter. “Stay back and stay clear of the fight.”

She nodded. “Stay safe, barbarian.”

“For freedom and honor,” Galen called out.

Two things that had become vital to Nero since he’d come to Carthago. He raised his voice with his fellow gladiators. “For freedom and honor.”

Nero rushed forward with his friends. The robots stomped toward them.

Going in low, Nero swung his sword, smashing his weapon into the robot’s knees. Lore was beside him, going high. Nearby, Thorin gave a loud roar and crashed his huge axe down into another robot. Raiden leaped high into the air and came down swinging his sword. Kace was rushing forward, his staff spinning, and Galen was one step ahead of him with his sword raised. Saff and Blaine attacked the robot to the far left, working together with deadly accuracy.

A robot swung its giant arms and Nero ducked. His fight partner grabbed something off his belt and threw it in the air. A second later, dark smoke exploded around the robots. They went still, the smoke clearly playing havoc with their systems.

Nero kept fighting, attacking the robot’s knees again. Metal crunched, and one leg went out from under it. It crashed down on one knee, lights blinking. Nero spun and sliced the robot’s head off.

It was just like being in the arena. The only thing missing was the roar of the crowd.

A robot loomed up out of the smoke, raising a giant axe. As the weapon slammed down, Nero rolled to the side.

Boom. The blow sent rock flying up. The robot lifted the axe, and Nero jumped to his feet. A dark figure leaped over Nero and attacked the robot.

Galen fought with power and skill, dodging the robot’s swings. He swung onto the robot’s back and with a hard swipe of his sword, opened up the robot’s head, sparks flying.

If Galen ever went back into the arena, he’d be a force to be reckoned with.

Nero saw another shadow dart past him. Blue. The man leaped onto another robot and tore the machine’s chest open with his bare hands and a chilling roar.

Turning, Nero saw Lore attacking another robot. Nero waded in to help. As Lore attacked from the back, Nero skewered the robot with his sword.

“Nero!” Lore yelled. “Behind you.”

Yanking his sword out, Nero turned. Another robot, far larger than the others, lumbered out of the building. As it walked, the ground vibrated beneath it. It towered over them and lifted two massive arms. Whirling blades were attached to the ends.

Grimly, Nero studied it, looking for weak points.

He saw it zero in on Lore. Nero’s partner bounced on his feet, holding up his sword.

As the blades whirled, Lore danced between them. He slashed at the robot several times. The last time, he wasn’t quite fast enough.

One of the spinning blades caught him, slashing him across the chest. Blood sprayed.

Lore, face twisted in pain, fell to the ground. He reached out a hand, touching the robot’s foot. Flames ignited up Lore’s arm as he used the power he’d been born with. The robot didn’t seem affected, but Nero saw the metal of its foot turning bright orange as it heated up.

Nero leaped over a downed robot and rushed in. He ducked under the sharp blades, and drove his sword against the softened, hot metal of the robot’s foot.

The metal collapsed, and the robot started to fall over, teetering for a second.

Drak. Nero grabbed Lore and dragged him out of the way. “Watch out!”

He saw Saff and Blaine glance up and leap out of the path of the falling robot. The machine slammed into the ground, blades still spinning and kicking up dirt.

Lore stayed sprawled on the ground, his chest bleeding profusely.

“Made a drakking mess of yourself,” Nero growled.

Lore winced. “Madeline is not going to be happy.”

A small figure darted over to them. Nero lifted his sword, then cursed.

Winter.

“I told you to stay back,” he ground out.

“I’ll help him.” She was already opening her backpack.

A mechanical sound, and Nero spun. The robot was trying to drag itself toward them, those dangerous blades still a risk.

“Go,” she told him, already swiping a cloth at Lore’s bloody chest.

Nero turned and attacked the damaged robot. Protect Winter. The words echoed in his head. Like a machine, he tore into the robot, slicing at every weak point.

A moment later, Nero straightened, panting. The blades were slowly stopping, the blinking lights now dark.

He spun. Another smaller robot was advancing on Winter, axe raised.

“Winter!”

At his shout, she turned and saw the robot bearing down on her. Instead of running, she threw herself over Lore’s prone form.

Drak. Nero burst into a run, pushing his body for all the speed he could muster. He leaped at the robot, swinging and slashing.

He wouldn’t let it touch Winter.

He sliced the machine’s arms off. One. Then the other. Its axe fell to the ground. His mind a red haze of rage, he kicked the robot, and it tumbled to the ground. He hacked one of its legs off at the knee, and then jumped onto its chest. He raised his sword, aiming it down, gripping the hilt with both hands. He jammed it into the robot’s chest. He raised his sword and then kept stabbing. Over and over.

“Nero?” Galen’s voice. “Nero?”

He ignored his imperator and kept attacking. He had to destroy it. He had to protect Winter.

“Nero, it’s destroyed.” This time it was Winter’s voice.

He paused and blinked. He stared down at the twisted, mangled metal beneath him. It barely resembled the robot it had once been.

He looked up. Winter stood in front of him, and Lore was beside her. His fight partner was smeared with blood, but a stark, white bandage crossed his chest, and otherwise, he looked fine.

“I think you killed it,” Lore said with a smile.

Nero stepped off the robot, and strode over to Winter. The savage urge inside him needed to know she was okay. The hunter in him needed to feel his woman’s heartbeat and her sweet warmth.

He saw her eyes widen. He slid his sword back into its scabbard, then snatched Winter off her feet. He slammed his mouth down on hers.

Chapter Fourteen

Winter threw her arms around Nero and held him close as he kissed her. It was hard and punishing and, far too soon, it was over.

“Wait.” Saff looked first at Winter and then Nero. “You two are—?” She waved a hand between them.

Lore grinned. “Sneaky, my man.” He slapped Nero on the shoulder.

Nero wrapped an arm around Winter. She looked up and saw Galen watching them, shaking his head.

“When we rescued Harper,” Galen said. “I had no idea these people from Earth would turn all my gladiators inside-out.”

“It’s called love, G,” Raiden said with a smile. “Maybe you should try it?”

“Oh, no,” Winter hurried to tell them. “It’s nothing like that for Nero and me.” She looked up at him and saw his face was unreadable. “I’m just using him for sex.”

She heard chuckles and saw raised eyebrows.

She elbowed Nero. “Tell them.”

Her barbarian just shrugged. “Yes.”

Galen shook his head. “Perhaps we should just focus on finding Dayna and Mia?” His tone was dry.

They all turned. The door the robots had used as an exit was still wide open. As the gladiators moved toward it, Winter felt a shiver of dread.

It was like they were being welcomed inside.

“Anyone get the feeling this is a trap?”

“Yes,” Nero said.

Blue paused in the doorway, sniffing. He scowled and shook his head. Galen gripped the man’s arm and looked inside. He went first, followed by Raiden, Thorin, and Blue.

Winter stepped inside, and took in the round, circular room. Everything was sleek, metallic, and very modern. It looked like a large, open storage area. Bits of equipment were stacked against the walls. And robots. Lots of robots.

They were currently all resting in rows, powered down.

Suddenly, Blue stepped forward, his body vibrating hard. “Mia.”

“She’s here?” Winter asked.

The alien man nodded, clearly agitated. He walked around the room, sniffing. “Mia.” He reached a closed, curved door, and slammed his hands against it. It opened suddenly, and he pushed through it at a run.

The gladiators followed. As they hurried through, they walked into a large room with walls of glass that overlooked the desert. Winter took a second to appreciate the beautiful view below. She could see the clear outlines of the setting suns in the distance.

This room was filled with tables and chairs, and a kitchen area was located along the back wall.

“This looks like living quarters,” she murmured.

“Keep moving,” Nero said. Ahead, Blue was already pushing through another door.

They moved down a long corridor. It was lined with a series of closed doors, and Raiden and Thorin slammed each one open. All were small, compact bedrooms. By the looks of the neatly made beds and lack of belongings, no one was using them.

Blue led them out onto a walkway made entirely of glass. Winter gasped, staring down at the rock below and the darkening sky overhead. Night was falling.

“Where is everybody?” she asked.

“I detect several scents,” Nero said. “But they’re old. And there aren’t any other signs of recent use.”

The walkway led them to a disc-shaped structure that reminded her of a flying saucer. When they stepped into this one, she saw Blue circling the room, sifting through things, and sniffing the air.

This space was filled with computers. She moved over toward Blue, as the other gladiators fanned out, searching the room. Concentric rings of desks had high-tech screens built into them. The screens were on, all of them showing a screensaver with a logo in the center. It was some sort of flame.

Suddenly, there was a huge bang.

Winter’s heart jumped into her throat and she spun. A huge metal wall had slammed down from the ceiling, cutting the room in half. Galen, Raiden, Thorin, and Kace were on the other side.

“What the hell?” Blaine said from the windows.

“Drak.” Nero moved over to look at the wall.

Winter looked up. The ceiling was seamless, with no hint of where the wall had come from.

Bang. Another wall slammed down, cutting off Saff and Blaine.

“Winter!” Nero shouted. She turned, her gaze meeting his. He and Lore were already moving in her direction. Another wall slammed down, blocking them from her.

Shit. Winter looked around and saw that she and Blue were trapped in a small, box-shaped space. She turned, bumping against the computer desk beside her.

Blue went wild, slamming his body against the metal wall.

God, this must feel like being back in a cage. “Blue? Blue, please calm down.”

She approached him slowly.

“The others will find a way out.” She kept her tone calm. “We won’t be stuck here.” She hoped to God she wasn’t lying. “Please don’t hurt yourself.”

He stopped banging, his chest heaving. “Get out of here.”

“We will.” She thumped her fist on the metal wall. “Nero?” She couldn’t hear anything coming from the other side, so she figured the walls were soundproofed.

She moved along the walls, running her hands over the smooth, slick surface. She couldn’t find any joints, or seams, or doors. Nothing.

Trapped. She stared at the metal walls, and her memories crashed in. The cold, threatening walls of the Thraxian lab. The freezing temperatures, the harsh smells, the pain. She doubled over, pulling air into her tight chest.

“Winter?”

Blue’s gravelly voice. She looked up and saw he was watching her, concern on his face. God, the man who’d spent a lifetime being imprisoned and tortured was trying to comfort her.

“I’m okay.” She slammed a lock down on the memories. She turned in the tight space, trying to come up with some sort of plan. The only thing in there was the computer.

She moved to the comp and touched the screen. The flame logo disappeared and alien text filled the screen. Great. Her lingual implant meant she could understand alien languages, but she couldn’t read any. She tapped a few more buttons and sighed.

Then the display blinked, the symbols disappearing. Then, new words appeared on the screen. She went still. These words were in English.

Touch the buttons on the screen in this sequence.

Was this a trap? Winter worried her bottom lip, staring at the screen. She weighed up her odds and realized that she had little to lose and no other options.

More words appeared. Quickly, before Catalyst catches you.

Winter reached out and touched the buttons on the screen in the directed order.

“Thanks.” A woman’s voice came through the computer speakers. “I can help you escape.”

Blue growled and Winter blinked. She heard a distinct Southern twang in the woman’s voice. “You’re human?”

“I am. I hacked into Catalyst’s system. I’m Ryan.”

“I’m Winter. Are you from Fortuna Station?”

“Yes. I was a systems specialist on the station. I kept all the tech systems running.”

“You were taken by the Thraxians?”

“Yes. Look, we don’t have a lot of time. I’m working to free you and your friends.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Once I get these walls to retract, you need to get to the next section of Catalyst’s place. The system shows that your friend Mia is being held there.”

“Ryan, where are you? Are you in another part of the building?”

There was a long pause before the woman spoke. “No, I’m not there. I’ll explain later.”

Winter pressed her hands against the desk. “What about Dayna? My other friend? Is she with Mia?”

“I’m sorry, Winter. Mia is the only human showing, apart from yourself and another of the gladiators who came with you.”

Winter closed her eyes. Where the hell was Dayna? She pressed her hands together. For now, she had to focus on freeing Mia.

“Okay, are you ready?” Ryan asked.

“Ready.”

There was a beep, and one of the metal walls shot back up into the roof. Winter swallowed a gasp.

And came face-to-face with an enraged Nero. His face twisted in desperate anger.

Winter ran straight to him, dimly aware of all the other walls shooting back up into the ceiling. The rest of their group crowded in close.

Nero wrapped his strong arms around her, and instantly, she felt safe. “We have to go. I know where Mia is.”

***

Nero stayed close to Winter, not wanting to risk losing her again.

He didn’t trust this place of Catalyst’s, with its slick metal surfaces and technology.

They headed out of the computer room, Winter rushing ahead. She’d promised to explain how she’d released the walls later. But right now, they had to get to Mia.

They moved into another glass walkway. This one was wider, and the glass was covered in a wire-mesh frame.

He was studying it as they walked through it. It was on an angle, leading them up to the next room. That’s when he saw the mesh charge up, electricity skating over it.

“Watch out!” Nero yelled. “The mesh just energized.”

He scooped Winter up and saw a blue laser arc across the walkway ahead of them, at about knee level. It moved toward them.

Nero leaped over it, and heard his friends doing the same.

Another streak of laser, chest height this time and moving fast. Holding on tight, he ducked under it.

More came at them, faster and faster. Nero spun, jumped and dodged.

Finally, he reached the end of the walkway and dived into the next room.

“Get them,” an electronic voice shouted.

Nero’s head snapped up. Laser fire sprayed the wall above them and he dived, covering Winter with his body.

Ahead, he saw a group of armed guards wearing familiar silver armor.

“Cyborg guards,” he shouted as his friends rushed into the room.

“Let’s do this,” Galen yelled. “Take them down.”

The imperator charged past Nero, using his sword to deflect the laser fire. Raiden, Thorin, and the others were right behind him.

“Stay here,” Nero told Winter. “And stay down.” He spied Blue and pointed at Winter. “Protect her.”

He waited a beat, saw the blue alien crouch protectively in front of Winter. Then Nero rushed to join his friends, swinging his sword.

He struck one of the cyborgs in the shoulder. The guard spun, and Nero knocked the laser weapon out of the man’s hand. Nero thrust his head forward, his forehead crashing into the visor covering the man’s face. It cracked into splinters. Then Nero slammed his fist through the broken visor and the guard jerked before flopping to the floor.

Soon, the gladiators had overpowered the guards.

Raiden and Thorin made short work of trussing up the cyborgs, leaving them on the ground, tied together.

Nero turned back and saw Winter and Blue moving forward. The blue-skinned alien growled.

“Mia is close,” he said.

Nero scanned the room beyond the guards. The space was completely empty. No furniture, no computers, nothing. There were just huge glass windows that revealed the night-drenched desert below.

“There’s nothing here.” Nero studied the shiny floor, and saw no tracks or marks.

Winter shoved forward. “She’s supposed to be here.”

Blue sniffed again, a scowl on his face. “I can scent Mia.”

All of a sudden, a blinding blue light flashed through the room.

Drak. Was it another laser security weapon? Nero had to get to Winter.

But as Nero tried to move, he realized his feet were stuck to the floor. He tried to shift his legs but they weren’t budging. The blue light was somehow holding them in place.

“I can’t move,” Winter said.

“We’re all stuck,” Galen growled. “It’s some sort of energy field that’s locked us down.”

The blue light grew brighter, spearing into Nero’s eyes. He felt a pain growing in his head and gritted his teeth. It was like a vise clamping down on his skull. He looked over and saw others grimacing as well. Winter’s eyes had gone wide and she was panting.

“Fuck,” Blaine bit out.

“What’s happening?” Saff asked.

Thorin gave a loud, enraged roar, scales flickering over his skin.

Suddenly, Winter screamed.

Nero saw she’d thrown her head back, and he thrashed against the force holding him. He needed to get to her. His muscles strained against the restraint, sweat beading on his forehead, but he couldn’t move.

“Leave me alone,” Winter cried out. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her eyes staring ahead. “Stay away from me!” She screamed again like she was in agony, her back arching.

That sound tore through Nero. What could she see? What was happening to her?

Suddenly, Nero felt a pressure in his head, like something trying to burst open his skull. Memories poured through his head like someone had opened floodgates.

He was a child again, dragged from his bed and tossed out in the cold for his harsh warrior training. His father’s shouts, the loud boom of the warlord as he’d berated Nero for not being strong enough. His siblings being dragged away by the slavers. Pain tore through him. Then all he saw was his father’s harsh face as he handed Nero over to the slavers. Those frenzied weeks locked in a tiny, metallic cell on the alien ship. His first time stepping into the Kor Magna Arena—afraid, angry, and hurting.

Then other images cascaded through his head. He saw himself holding Winter’s small form nestled in his arms on a tarnid. Him telling her she was weak.

“No.” That last memory made him grit his teeth. He didn’t believe that.

Another image. This one was of Winter, tears tracking down her cheeks, as she turned and walked away from him.

He tried to reach for her, but he could feel he was losing her. “Winter. No!”

Suddenly, Nero realized that he loved her. She had a strength he was in awe of. With her quick words and determined attitude, she’d cracked through the shell around him. The day his father had thrown him away, Nero had locked his heart away.

But Winter hadn’t just freed it, she had it wrapped in her small hands. She was his heart.

And she was leaving him. Just like everyone else who had mattered in his life had left him.

He heard a pained scream, and this time, he realized it was his own.

Chapter Fifteen

Winter felt the Thraxian doctor sticking things in her eyes. She felt the straps tying her to the lab bench. She was screaming, but she knew it never made them stop.

Then, she felt her body falling. She hit the ground on her hands and knees.

Disoriented, she heaved in air. She was sweating and she couldn’t see. She blinked and slowly, the room around her came into blue-hued focus.

She could see. She stared at the metal and glass, at the muscled bodies slumped on the floor around her.

She wasn’t in the Thraxian lab! She was in Catalyst’s desert lair.

She was with the House of Galen.

Fighting through the fading pain in her head, she focused on the gladiators. They were all lying on the floor, panting, their faces contorted.

Suddenly, a large hand reached for her and she reared back, faded memories of the Thraxians in her mind.

“Shh, Winter. It’s me. You’re safe.”

Nero’s rugged face appeared, and instantly her panic eased. She grabbed his hand and held on. “Nero.”

He let out a ragged breath, his arms closing around her. His lips touched her temple in a quick kiss.

“I…” Her chest hitched. “I was back in the Thraxian lab.”

“And I relived when I left Symeria.”

God. It seemed everyone had been forced to relive their worst memories.

“Everyone okay?” Galen asked.

Winter looked up and saw that Galen’s jaw was set in a hard line. She wondered what Galen had relived. She turned her face into Nero’s neck, pulling in the scent of him, waiting for her nerves to settle.

“Winter? Are you okay?” Ryan’s disembodied voice. “It took me a while to disable the field.”

Around Winter, the gladiators all stiffened and lifted their weapons.

Winter scrambled to her feet. “It’s okay. That’s Ryan. She’s another survivor from Fortuna Space Station. She helped us earlier by releasing the walls.”

“Ryan Nagano?” Blaine asked, frowning. “From the tech team?”

“That’s right,” Ryan answered. “I think we met once, Blaine, although you probably don’t remember. They kept us tech gurus locked in the bowels of the control room.” There was wry amusement in her tone.

“Glad you made it, Ryan,” Blaine said.

“Ryan, I’m Galen. How are you helping us?”

“I managed to hack into Catalyst’s system,” the woman answered. “But he knows I’m in and he’s working hard to lock me out.”

Winter pressed her palms to her trousers. “Ryan, we didn’t find Mia.”

“What?” A frown in Ryan’s voice. “She’s right there. The system says she’s in the same room as you.”

“Ryan, where are you?” Winter asked.

The woman’s sigh came through clearly. “I’m not there. I’m nowhere near you.”

Winter frowned. “Where are you? We’ll come for you.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.” A hesitation. “I’m at a place called Zaabha.”

There were gasps all around.

“The desert arena?” Winter asked. It was where she’d been headed when she’d been snatched from the House of Galen.

“Yes.”

“Are they forcing you to fight?” Nero asked.

“No, thank God,” Ryan answered. “They realized my tech skills, and now I’m locked in with the arena’s comp systems, forced to keep things running here. Look, don’t worry about me right now. Mia is who matters.”

“There’s no one here in this space,” Galen said. “The room is empty.”

“It can’t be.” Ryan’s voice was sharp. “The system says she’s there, along with twenty other individuals. And that’s in addition to your group. I can see a huge energy signature coming from that room.”

Winter frowned, studying the empty space. She walked forward and reached out.

Suddenly light rippled, as though she’d touched water. “There’s some sort of energy wall here. It’s concealing something!”

“Hang on,” Ryan said. “It must be some sort of holographic camouflage. I’ll see if I can shut it down.”

“Ryan,” Galen said. “Where is Catalyst?”

“I don’t know. He masks his signature.”

Galen frowned. “I know he has more robots. Does he have more cyborg guards?”

“Yes. But I have a program running…I’m trying to shut them all down.”

The energy wall shimmered again, and suddenly, it was gone.

Shock knocked into Winter like a sharp flash. She heard Nero and the others curse. Nero moved in close behind her, wrapping an arm around her.

Winter raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh, God.”

Twenty bodies were all suspended in the air on their backs, cords and leads holding them in place. She looked up and saw the ceiling soared high up above, all the wires snaking upward, disappearing into the darkness above.

Galen strode forward. “What the drak?”

“Winter?” Ryan said. “What is it?”

Suddenly, Blue let out a loud roar. He raced through the bodies, heading toward the small form of a blonde woman who hung there, so pale and still.

Winter pressed her knuckles to her mouth. She could see Mia’s body was nearly naked, just a strip of fabric across her breasts and a loincloth around her hips. Small suction cups covered her body, joined her to the metallic leads.

Blaine and Kace leaped forward, grabbing Blue, both of them straining to hold him in place as he struggled against them.

“Ryan, Mia’s here and lots of others…” Winter’s voice was shaking. “They’re all attached to a whole bunch of cables.”

“What?” Ryan breathed.

Winter scanned all the still bodies. There were several different alien species, including several with the patterned skin of desert wraiths.

“What is this Catalyst doing to them?” Nero asked.

“Dammit.” Ryan’s voice was shaky. “I’ve broken through into some of his deeper-encrypted files. He’s…using them to power his computer system.”

Winter spun. “What?”

“He’s tapping into their brainwaves…I don’t understand it all.”

“I don’t care what the drak he’s doing,” Galen bit out. “Can we disconnect them?”

“I think so,” Ryan replied. “There could be brain damage to those who’ve been plugged in the longest, but I honestly don’t know for sure.”

“We’ll disconnect them.” Without saying another thing, Galen drew his sword. He strode over to Mia and sliced through the cables attached to her.

As her body dropped, Blue raced forward and caught her in his arms. He curled his body protectively around hers.

Winter hurried over to her friend. Blue growled, taking a step back.

“You need to let me check her,” Winter said.

Nero stepped nearer, staying close to Winter, and watching Blue carefully. “Let her help Mia.”

A muscle ticked in Blue’s jaw, then he reluctantly loosened his hold on Mia. He sank to the ground, cradling Mia in his lap.

Winter crouched down beside him, dimly aware of the other gladiators cutting down the remaining victims. Quickly, Winter checked Mia’s vitals.

“Her breathing seems steady, and her pulse is strong. Despite her unconsciousness, physically, she seems fine.”

“Free them all,” Galen ordered.

The House of Galen gladiators were busy laying the bodies down on the floor. Soon, all the captives were free, none of them conscious.

The lights flickered.

Winter stood. “Ryan, something’s going on with the lights.” Silence. “Ryan?”

There was still no answer.

“Ryan?”

“What have you done?” A booming, angry male voice echoed through the space.

A door on the far side of the room slid open. The gladiators all stood, lifting their swords.

Winter’s gut clenched. A humanoid male stepped inside.

He was as tall as the gladiators and at first, she thought he was wearing body armor like his cyborgs. But as her gaze ran over him, she realized that wasn’t the case.

His lower body up to mid-chest was metallic and it looked like his organic upper half was plugged into the synthetic lower half. His organic skin was a mottled pale color and several cords snaked into his skin, including his bald scalp.

One of his eyes glowed brightly and she guessed it would be neon green.

“Catalyst,” Galen said.

“Yes. This is my place. My property. And you have come here and destroyed what is not yours.” He took a few steps closer, the floor vibrating with each one of his paces.

“They are people, asshole,” Winter bit out. “You can’t own a person. You have no right.”

The man shot her an arrogant look. “I do as I please. I am a genius.” He held his arms out, light gleaming off his enhancements. “I use my superior intelligence to test, experiment, discover great things. To invent new technology to enhance our lives and to improve on our frail bodies.” His gaze swept over Winter. “I see your vision is impaired and subpar. Imagine a world where that can be rectified. Where all imperfections can be fixed and all beings can achieve flawlessness.”

“She doesn’t need to be fixed, you crud-spawn,” Nero spat.

Nero’s words warmed her insides. With a smile, she looked back at Catalyst. “My barbarian is right. My imperfections are a part of me. My vision doesn’t make me better or worse than someone else, or more or less useful. I’m just me and I’m fine the way I am.” She wrinkled her nose. “So you can take your perfection and shove it.” She waved a hand at the still bodies laid out nearby. “You have no right to do this to another living being.”

“My genius gives me the right,” Catalyst declared arrogantly.

Winter couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

He was no different than the Thraxians. They used their superior strength and technology to overrun people. Catalyst believed his intellect allowed him to do the same thing.

“These people and their brains, they power my systems and allow for more complex functions.” His gaze bored into Winter. “And do you know what I discovered from your small, blonde friend?” An ugly smile stretched his lips. “I discovered that human brains from Earth are especially efficient and powerful when plugged into my system.”

“This ends now,” Nero growled.

Catalyst made a scoffing sound. “You think a thuggish barbarian gladiator can stop me?”

“Yes, he can,” Galen said in an ice-cold tone. “Because he stands with me. He stands with the House of Galen. And that woman whose brain you covet, she is House of Galen, too. She isn’t yours, she’s mine.”

Catalyst’s eyes flared brightly. “You want a fight?” His voice was now flat and metallic. “I will give you a fight you cannot survive.”

Flames ignited from the bottom of his armor, and he launched himself forward in an attack.

Winter backed up a step, and a second later, Nero tackled her, and knocked her out of the way.

With Nero’s weight on top of her, Winter couldn’t see what was going on. She heard laser fire, shouting, metal striking metal.

“Get him down.” Galen’s deep voice echoed across the room.

“Stay down, Winter,” Nero growled. “I need to help.”

“Nero—” She grabbed his arm. “Stay safe.”

His gaze burned into her. “I can’t promise that. I will keep you safe and protect you with my life.” With those words, his weight lifted off her, and he was gone.

She raised her head, and saw the gladiators converging on Catalyst. In front, Raiden and Galen were deflecting laser shots with their swords.

Catalyst pressed something on the chest plate of his armor, and copies of him blinked into existence around the room.

Winter’s mouth dropped open. They looked identical, and there was nothing to give the holographic copies away. The five Catalysts all drew swords that glowed with a spark of blue electric energy. They rushed forward, attacking the House of Galen gladiators.

“Focus on the real Catalyst,” Galen yelled.

Winter skittered back against the wall and watched the gladiators fighting. Across the space, she saw Blue backing Mia away from the fight.

Nero charged into the fray with a roar, swinging his giant sword. Catalyst and his copies were fast, almost blurring as they ducked and dodged. But Galen calmly yelled out orders, and as the gladiators boxed the real Catalyst in, she realized they had something Catalyst would never understand.

They were working as a team.

Where one had a weakness, another had the skill to compensate. When one fell back, another rushed forward to attack. She watched Nero charge in high, working with Lore who was moving his weapon low.

Thorin and Raiden finally managed to pin the man, slamming him against the wall. Galen moved, striking fast. He sank his sword into Catalyst’s shoulder, the blade slicing through mottled skin.

Catalyst screamed, struggling wildly. Electricity arced over his metallic half, knocking the three gladiators back.

Catalyst stepped forward, his face a terrible mask. “I want your humans!”

He turned his head and his glowing gaze settled on Winter. He charged in her direction.

Oh, God. Winter had nowhere to go, and no weapon to fight him with. Using her small knife would be like facing a charging lion with a toothpick.

A big figure rushed in from the sidelines. Nero slammed into Catalyst, and the two of them crashed into the floor.

The two men rolled, straining against each other.

“She is mine,” Nero gritted out.

“Not for much longer, barbarian.”

Catalyst rolled, gripped Nero’s head and slammed it into the floor.

“No!” Winter screamed.

Catalyst leaped to his feet, his lower armor dented in places. He ran to a control panel on the wall and thumped his fists against the controls.

Blinding white light shot through the room.

Pain speared into Winter’s eyes. She threw her hands over her face, dropping to her knees. The explosion of white slowly faded, but the searing pain didn’t. It burned, drilling into her skull.

She heard pained groans, and dropped her hands. She could barely see through the bright light, but she saw the shapes of all the gladiators on the ground, writhing.

Nero was on his knees, his face twisted in a grimace. He was crawling toward Catalyst, tears streaming down his face.

Saff and Blaine were curled around each other. Thorin had his palms pressed to his face, an agonized roar tearing from his throat. Raiden, Galen, Lore and Kace were all struggling.

When she looked at Nero again, Winter saw a bloody tear slide down his cheek.

He’d die for her. She knew deep inside that he would keep after Catalyst, fighting to protect her, no matter what. Her loyal, protective barbarian would give his life for her.

She wouldn’t lose him.

Winter pushed to her feet, locking her knees to fight the dizziness and pain. She’d already lost everything that mattered to her when the Thaxians had destroyed her life. She wouldn’t lose her barbarian as well.

As Nero lunged at Catalyst, tackling the man to the ground, she yanked the knife from her belt. She took a step toward where Nero and Catalyst struggled. The white light was still pulsing through the room.

She knew what she had to do. She reached up and tore her vision device off. In the blessed darkness, she used the sounds of the fight to keep moving toward Catalyst.

“Winter, no!” Nero’s shout. “Stay back.”

She ignored him. She had to protect Nero. She had to protect her friends.

She lifted her knife and, trusting her instincts and her hearing, she leaped at the madman.

“Get off me!” the man yelled.

Her knife sank into flesh and Catalyst screamed.

She jabbed it into him again. She gritted her teeth against his screams, and the slippery blood coating her hands. She felt him toppling over backward, and she fell with him.

“Winter!”

Beneath her, the man’s struggles turned sluggish.

“We will die together, human,” Catalyst said, his voice a gurgle.

“Screw you, asshole.”

She felt his hand moving, groping for something.

She stabbed at him once more, but then a giant, explosive force knocked her off him. Winter felt herself flying, the room a whirl of gray shadows. Then she slammed into something hard and hit the floor.

Pain speared through her chest and as she fought to take a breath, unconsciousness dragged her into darkness.

Chapter Sixteen

Nero fought back the nausea and agony as he crawled toward Winter’s prone body. His vision was blurry after whatever the drak the light weapon was that Catalyst had used.

He ignored the man’s motionless body. He had to get to Winter.

Around him, his friends were starting to get unsteadily to their feet. Galen stood with one hand pressed to the wall, Raiden was shaking his head, and Thorin, who had very acute eyesight, was vomiting in a corner.

Winter. She was collapsed on the floor across the room. Nero got up, stumbling over to her. He dropped down beside her and pulled her into his arms.

She was covered in blood, but he hoped to the stars it wasn’t hers. Her eyes were open and, when he looked into her face, he hissed in a breath. Her eyes were no longer white but glowing a bright silver.

She smiled at him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he growled.

“I shouldn’t have saved you?” She reached up, her bloody palm cupping his cheek. “I shouldn’t have saved the barbarian I’ve fallen in love with?”

Nero felt a burst of emotion in his chest. “I… I haven’t ever loved a woman, Winter.”

“I’ve never loved a barbarian gladiator. Believe me, you didn’t make it easy, at first.”

He pressed his hand over hers. “I love you, Winter. For me, you are warmth at the end of the hunt. You hold my heart.”

Her smile widened. “Oh, that sounds so lovely.” But her face went pale, her smile fading. “Be safe, my barbarian.” She slumped in his arms.

“Winter? Winter?” Panic sped through him. He leaned down, pressing his head to her chest. He heard the beat of her heart and the puff of her breath. She was alive.

He scooped her up and got to his feet.

“She okay?” Lore asked.

“I don’t know.” Nero locked his panic down. “I don’t know.”

“She saved us all,” his partner said. “Scary brave these women of Earth.”

Nero looked down at Winter’s face. “She has to be okay.”

Galen appeared, Raiden beside him. “We’ll get her back to the healers.”

Nero nodded, ready to leave this horrible place. He looked over and saw that Blue was carrying the still-unconscious Mia.

A static-filled, female voice broke through the room. “…I have…all shut down. No more…or guards.”

Ryan’s voice. Her message was garbled, but from what Nero could make out, the woman had shut down all of Catalyst’s defenses.

Her voice cut off. She was gone.

“Raiden, Thorin, and Kace,” Galen said. “I need you to stay here and protect these victims. Once I reach Kor Magna, I’ll organize a team, including healers, to come back here, and help get these people out of here and back to their homes.”

Raiden nodded. “Consider it done, G.”

“Saff and Blaine, bring Catalyst.”

Nero’s head snapped up. “He’s not dead?”

The small smile that crossed Galen’s face was scary. “I have something better planned for him.”

As Galen led the rest of their group back through Catalyst’s lair, Nero moved on autopilot, carrying Winter carefully. Saff and Blaine dragged a complaining Catalyst between them.

“Shut your mouth,” Blaine snapped. “Or I’ll do it for you…with my fists.”

Saff grinned at him. “My man is so badass.”

Nero knew it wasn’t that long, but it felt like an eternity had passed when they finally reached the tarnids.

Corsair strode forward, his gaze running over them. “Drakking hell.”

“We need to get back to Kor Magna,” Galen said. “Fast.” He looked around. “Are the wraiths still here?”

“I haven’t seen them.”

“We are here.” The female leader sauntered out of the darkness.

“We found several of your people inside,” Galen said. “My gladiators are with them.” He glanced at Catalyst, whose head was hanging to his chest where he sagged between Saff and Blaine. “I do not know if they suffered long-term damage from what he has done to them.”

The desert wraith’s face hardened. “Thank you, Imperator Galen.”

“I have one more thing for you.” Galen nodded at Catalyst.

The wraith’s face sharpened. She nodded and several wraiths appeared from the shadows.

Catalyst lifted his head, his eyes widening. “No! You can’t leave me with them. They are barbaric.”

The woman moved close to Catalyst and her voice lowered. “I will take pleasure in showing you just how barbaric I can be.”

Nero watched impassively as the wraiths dragged the screaming man into the desert.

Soon, he handed Winter’s limp form to Galen and climbed onto his tarnid. Galen handed Winter up to Nero, and he nestled her safely in his lap. The desert night was surprisingly cool, and he pulled out his fur cloak and wrapped it around her.

She had to be okay. He kicked his tarnid into a trot. She had to be.

***

Vek

The group stopped by a small drinking hole to rest and quench their thirst.

Vek’ker stopped as well, avoiding the ugly beasts the gladiators rode. He moved toward the small pool of water, setting his bundle down by the water’s edge.

He needed to drink, but he didn’t want to leave Mia alone. She’d been alone for weeks, lost and stolen.

Vek leaned down, and drew in a deep breath. The scent of her filled him, and he felt an uneasy, edgy part of him settle. No one was looking, so he carefully stroked her cheek. He found the color of her skin fascinating. So pink compared to his blue.

He felt a spear of longing drive through him. With a grunt, he turned to the water and scooped some into his mouth.

For so long, he’d just been a thing, an animal, a weapon. He’d fought on the whim of his captors in the underground fight rings. He’d tried to remember his life before, but the memories refused to come.

He knew people were shocked he’d survived the fight rings.

Sometimes, he was surprised. He’d been tortured, caged, and caught in vicious fights to the death. He’d had nothing to fight for, nothing to survive for.

Until Mia had stepped on the sand.

He reached down and stroked her arm. She was so soft and small. This tiny woman from a distant planet called Earth had woken something in him. Something he didn’t understand.

He touched her hair. It was the color of the sunlight, and he loved it. He’d lived without the sunlight for so very long. Her eyelashes were surprisingly dark against her skin. He willed her to open her eyes.

He looked over and saw the big gladiator, Nero, cradling his own woman. The man’s face was etched in hard lines. His woman was badly injured.

Vek had seen the way the healer had rushed in and risked her life to save them all. He hoped she recovered soon.

He felt Mia stir, and he froze, looking down at her. She opened her eyes.

She blinked a few times, focusing on his face. A small smile emerged on her lips. “Hello.”

There was no fear. She didn’t look at him like he was an animal.

“Hello, Mia.” He knew his voice sounded growly and rough. But it had been so long since he’d spoken.

Her eyes widened. Confused. “Blue? You’re talking.”

“My name is Vek’ker.”

She reached up, her fingers touching his face, and stroking his ragged beard. “Hi, Vek’ker.”

“I am…I was called Vek.”

“Did you rescue me, Vek?”

There was no fear. No disgust. He’d gotten so used to people being afraid of him. “I will come for you, wherever you are.”

“You don’t even know me,” she said quietly.

“I do.” He breathed deeply again, letting her sweet smell surround him.

“Mia?”

She looked around Blue, and he didn’t need to turn to know that Blaine and Saff had arrived, as he had scented them.

“So glad to see you awake,” Blaine said, crouching. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Groggy.” Mia pushed at her hair. “Like I went a few rounds in a boxing ring.”

“What do you remember?” Blaine asked.

Mia’s brow scrunched. “I remember being abducted from the House of Galen.” Her face turned stricken. “Dayna? Winter? Are they okay?”

Vek fought the urge to wrap himself around her.

“Winter is here. She helped us rescue you.” Blaine’s face hardened.

Mia’s hand grabbed Vek’s. “And Dayna?”

“Still missing.”

Mia closed her eyes. “A man snatched Dayna and me off a desert convoy. I remember screams, weapons fire, then…nothing.”

Vek ran a hand along her back, wanting to soothe her distress.

“The man’s name was Catalyst,” Saff said. “He’s dead.”

“Good.” Mia looked around, and her gaze fell on Winter, lying in Nero’s arms. She stiffened. “Winter?”

“She saved us all,” Vek said. “She was injured.”

“No!”

“She’s hurt but alive,” Blaine said. “We’ll be back in Kor Magna soon. Don’t worry. The healers will help her.”

“Be calm, Mia,” Vek said.

She looked up at him, her eyes a fascinating amber color. She touched his face again. “You need a trim.”

“For you, I will.”

“You’re free now, Vek. Free to go and do whatever you please. To find your family and your home world. I know you feel grateful to me, but—”

He shook his head. Gratitude was one emotion he felt, but there were so many things churning inside him for this woman. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be separated from her.

“Shh.” She gripped his jaw, making him look back at her. “I can see the panic on your face. Whatever happens, you have a home at the House of Galen.”

He nodded. But the only place he wanted to be was with Mia.

She sat up, looking across the desert. He saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “Dayna is out there, somewhere. All alone. We have to find her.”

Whatever his Mia wanted, he would get it for her. “I vow that I will find her.”

Suddenly, Mia sagged. “I’m tired.” She pressed her face against his chest and held on to him.

That simple trust broke him. He held her tight, and knew that he would die to deliver on his promise to find her friend.

Chapter Seventeen

Nero stared out the window. He looked down at the training arena without really seeing the gladiators training below.

They’d been back at the House of Galen for two days. Winter hadn’t woken.

He’d stayed by her side in Medical, and now she rested in his bed, in his room. The healers had said there was nothing more they could do, and that it was up to her now.

She was a fighter, his Winter. She would wake. If she didn’t…

He heard the door, and a second later, Galen stepped up beside him.

“You need some rest,” Galen said.

“I’ll rest when she is awake.”

“You’re not eating or sleeping—”

“Lore forces food into me. I nap in the chair.” Nero turned back to look at the bed. She looked so small nestled in it, covered by his furs. So still and so beautiful.

Nero was desolate inside. She’d risked her life to save him and the others. Somehow, this small woman had thawed the cold recesses of his body, his heart, his soul.

If she didn’t wake…

“When I first met her, I told her she was weak.” Nero choked on the words. “I had no idea what real strength was until I met her. She taught me about having the courage to truly risk yourself.” He met Galen’s gaze. “Not your body, but…” He pressed his fists to his chest.

Understanding filled Galen’s eyes.

“What if she doesn’t wake up?” Nero finally voiced the deepest fear inside him.

Galen reached out and touched his shoulder. “She’s a fighter, Nero. She survived the Thraxians, the Srinar, the fight rings, the desert, Catalyst. She’ll survive this, too. You’ve given her something to fight for.”

“I don’t deserve her.”

Galen snorted. “Probably not. So, are you going to give her up, then?”

“No,” Nero growled.

The tiniest flicker of a smile appeared on Galen’s lips. “All these women of Earth have grit. She’ll wake up.”

“Maybe there is an Earth woman for you,” Nero said.

Galen slapped him again, harder this time. “Hold your tongue, gladiator, or I’ll challenge you. I have enough people to look after without a female causing chaos in my life.”

Nero managed a smile. Galen didn’t know that every second of the chaos was worth it.

“Nero?”

The quiet, weak voice came from the bed. Hearing it made his heart leap. He spun, closing the distance in quick strides.

She was awake and looking at him.

Nero pressed one knee to the bed. “Winter.” He cupped her cheeks.

She blinked lazily. “Hey, barbarian.” She reached out and touched his stubbled jaw. “You need to shave. And your purple eyes are more beautiful than I’d imagined.”

He blinked. He realized she wasn’t wearing her vision device. It was sitting on the bedside table. “You can see?” Now he noticed that while one of her eyes was still milky white, the other was a brilliant blue.

She blinked rapidly. “I…I can see from my right eye.” She squeezed his hand. “I can see you. In color.”

Nero leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. She kissed him back, responding to him instantly, and he pulled in the taste of her. Of the woman who had been born for him alone.

***

Winter strode out of Medical in a swish of skirts.

She found Nero waiting for her in the hall, leaning against the stone wall. God, she’d never tire of looking at him—bronze skin, dark hair, those intense and so beautiful purple eyes.

He straightened. “What did they say?”

“Clean bill of health.” She held her arms out and did a twirl. “They aren’t exactly sure what Catalyst’s light weapon did to mw, but it zapped some of the nerves in my right eye, and it is now fully functional…” Her smile dimmed a little. “My left eye is unlikely to recover. But I’m okay with that, I can see pretty well with one, and I can use the vision device, if I need to. I’m luckier than most.”

He moved fast, sweeping her into his arms. Her feet dangled off the ground, and she gave a surprised laugh.

“I love you as you are,” he said gruffly.

Winter went still against him. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of you telling me that.” She let her gaze roam his rugged face.

His hold on her tightened. “I told you endless times as we left Catalyst’s lair, and when you were resting in my bed.”

“It doesn’t count if I’m unconscious, Nero.”

“Then I’ll have to tell you again and again. Every day, for the rest of my life.”

She pressed her forehead against his. “I’d like that. I love you too, Nero. So much.”

“This entire place is filled with besotted gladiators and kissing couples,” a grumpy voice said.

They both turned. Zhim was scowling at them. Winter thought the information merchant looked tired, and his dark hair was mussed, like he’d been running his hands repeatedly through it.

“What has you in such a good mood?” Nero set Winter back on her feet.

Zhim shoved his hands in his pockets. “Galen asked me to find this human woman who helped you in Catalyst’s lair.”

“Ryan?” Winter’s heart skipped a beat. “Have you found her? Or the location of Zaabha? Or any leads on Dayna?”

Zhim’s mouth twisted. “No. There has been no information on Dayna, and trying to find Zaabha is like chasing a myth. There is so much fiction mixed with crumbs of fact. It makes it hard to separate the two.” He ran his hand through his hair. “And I’ve tried to make contact with this Ryan.”

“And?”

“No success yet.” A gleam entered the man’s fascinating, multicolored eyes. “But I’m not giving up. I am the best.”

Winter smiled, and caught Nero rolling his eyes. “Thank you, Zhim.”

“We will leave you to it, information merchant.” Nero wrapped his arm around Winter. “We have other things to do.”

As he yanked her down the hall, she managed to wave goodbye to Zhim. She found herself practically jogging to keep up with Nero’s long strides.

“What’s the rush, barbarian?” She was breathless.

He tugged her into his bedroom. Their room, she amended. He’d given the order earlier that she was moving into his room.

He slammed the door closed behind them, and then backed her up against the wood. When his hands bunched in her skirts, pushing the fabric up, she gasped. Desire was damp heat between her legs.

“The rush is that I need you.” His voice was deep and gruff. “You finally have clearance from Medical, and now I need to be inside you.”

She felt the air swirl around her bare legs. “Oh. Well, then.”

He pushed her skirts to her waist, and soon his fingers were tearing her underwear away. He kissed her hard and she sank her hands into his hair, undulating against him. She felt the hard press of his cock against her belly.

He made a growling sound, his arms wrapping tightly around her. Suddenly, she found herself hauled across the room. He spun her around and pushed her against the back of the large leather couch in the center of the room.

The next second, she found herself bent over the back of the couch, her skirts pushed up over her back, and her bare bottom exposed. Big, callused palms caressed one cheek, then the other.

Then thick fingers delved between her legs, making her cry out.

“So pretty and wet.”

She heard the rustle of leather behind her, and knew he was opening his trousers. Anticipation was sharp, like a blade. A second later, he thrust into her.

His hands clamped onto her hips, and then he was thrusting inside her with hard, measured thrusts.

She pushed back against him. “I’m not fragile or weak, remember, Nero.”

“No. You’re mine.”

“Then give it to me harder, Nero. Faster.”

With a groan, he did as she asked. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. God, he was so big and thick. She heard the husky little cries escaping her throat.

“Be mine,” he growled against her ear, his big body covering hers. “Be my mate, my partner, my woman, my heart.”

Warmth swelled in her chest. “Yes.”

“I have no clan, no kingdom—”

“I only want you, Nero.” She turned her head, their lips meeting. “I have nothing to offer you but myself and my love.”

He thrust into her a few more times and, a moment later, Winter came, her orgasm shooting through her like an explosion. She felt Nero’s fingers clamp on her hips, and then he was spilling himself inside her with a rough groan.

His mouth found hers, and he kissed her, wildly. Just the way a conquering barbarian should kiss.

When Winter could think again, she was still bent over the couch, trying to pull air into her laboring lungs. Her barbarian moved, scooping her up into his arms. He carried her to the bed and set her down. He started stripping her clothes off.

“I want to see you,” he said. “And I want to have you again.”

Her gaze dropped to the long cock that was already hardening once more. She lay back on the covers and smiled. “No complaints from me.”

He pressed a knee to the bed, his big, naked body looming over her. “I’m glad you used me for sex, Winter.”

“I’m pretty happy with how it worked out, too.” She helped him push his harness off his broad chest. “I think I’ll keep using you for sex. For the rest of our lives. Now, less talking and more action.”

He leaned down, a smile on his face. “Anything for you.”

–

I hope you enjoyed Winter and Nero’s story!

Galactic Gladiators continues with BEAST, starring wild blue alien warrior Vek, coming late-2017. For more action-packed romance, read on for a preview of the first chapter of Marcus, the first book in my bestselling Hell Squad series.

Don’t miss out! For updates about new releases, action romance info, free books, and other fun stuff, sign up for my VIP mailing list and get your free box set containing three action-packed romances.

Click here to get started: www.annahackettbooks.com

Preview – Hell Squad: Marcus

Her team was under attack.

Elle Milton pressed her fingers to her small earpiece. “Squad Six, you have seven more raptors inbound from the east.” Her other hand gripped the edge of her comp screen, showing the enhanced drone feed.

She watched, her belly tight, as seven glowing red dots converged on the blue ones huddled together in the burned-out ruin of an office building in downtown Sydney. Each blue dot was a squad member and one of them was their leader.

“Marcus? Do you copy?” Elle fought to keep her voice calm. No way she’d let them hear her alarm.

“Roger that, Elle.” Marcus’ gravelly voice filled her ear. Along with the roar of laser fire. “We see them.”

She sagged back in her chair. This was the worst part. Just sitting there knowing that Marcus and the others were fighting for their lives. In the six months she’d been comms officer for the squad, she’d worked hard to learn the ropes. But there were days she wished she was out there, aiming a gun and taking out as many alien raptors as she could.

You’re not a soldier, Ellianna. No, she was a useless party-girl-turned-survivor. She watched as a red dot disappeared off the screen, then another, and another. She finally drew a breath. Marcus and his team were the experienced soldiers. She’d just be a big fat liability in the field.

But she was a damn good comms officer.

Just then, a new cluster of red dots appeared near the team. She tapped the screen, took a measurement. “Marcus! More raptors are en route. They’re about one kilometer away. North.” God, would these invading aliens ever leave them alone?

“Shit,” Marcus bit out. Then he went silent.

She didn’t know if he was thinking or fighting. She pictured his rugged, scarred face creased in thought as he formulated a plan.

Then his deep, rasping voice was back. “Elle, we need an escape route and an evac now. Shaw’s been hit in the leg, Cruz is carrying him. We can’t engage more raptors.”

She tapped the screen rapidly, pulling up drone images and archived maps. Escape route, escape route. Her mind clicked through the options. She knew Shaw was taller and heavier than Cruz, but the armor they wore had slim-line exoskeletons built into them allowing the soldiers to lift heavier loads and run faster and longer than normal. She tapped the screen again. Come on. She needed somewhere safe for a Hawk quadcopter to set down and pick them up.

“Elle? We need it now!”

Just then her comp beeped. She looked at the image and saw a hazy patch of red appear in the broken shell of a nearby building. The heat sensor had detected something else down there. Something big.

Right next to the team.

She touched her ear. “Rex! Marcus, a rex has just woken up in the building beside you.”

“Fuck! Get us out of here. Now.”

Oh, God. Elle swallowed back bile. Images of rexes, with their huge, dinosaur-like bodies and mouths full of teeth, flashed in her head.

More laser fire ripped through her earpiece and she heard the wild roar of the awakening beast.

Block it out. She focused on the screen. Marcus needed her. The team needed her.

“Run past the rex.” One hand curled into a tight fist, her nails cutting into her skin. “Go through its hiding place.”

“Through its nest?” Marcus’ voice was incredulous. “You know how territorial they are.”

“It’s the best way out. On the other side you’ll find a railway tunnel. Head south along it about eight hundred meters, and you’ll find an emergency exit ladder that you can take to the surface. I’ll have a Hawk pick you up there.”

A harsh expulsion of breath. “Okay, Elle. You’ve gotten us out of too many tight spots for me to doubt you now.”

His words had heat creeping into her cheeks. His praise…it left her giddy. In her life BAI—before alien invasion—no one had valued her opinions. Her father, her mother, even her almost-fiancé, they’d all thought her nothing more than a pretty ornament. Hell, she had been a silly, pretty party girl.

And because she’d been inept, her parents were dead. Elle swallowed. A year had passed since that horrible night during the first wave of the alien attack, when their giant ships had appeared in the skies. Her parents had died that night, along with most of the world.

“Hell Squad, ready to go to hell?” Marcus called out.

“Hell, yeah!” the team responded. “The devil needs an ass-kicking!”

“Woo-hoo!” Another voice blasted through her headset, pulling her from the past. “Ellie, baby, this dirty alien’s nest stinks like Cruz’s socks. You should be here.”

A smile tugged at Elle’s lips. Shaw Baird always knew how to ease the tension of a life-or-death situation.

“Oh, yeah, Hell Squad gets the best missions,” Shaw added.

Elle watched the screen, her smile slipping. Everyone called Squad Six the Hell Squad. She was never quite sure if it was because they were hellions, or because they got sent into hell to do the toughest, dirtiest missions.

There was no doubt they were a bunch of rebels. Marcus had a rep for not following orders. Just the previous week, he’d led the squad in to destroy a raptor outpost but had detoured to rescue survivors huddled in an abandoned hospital that was under attack. At the debrief, the general’s yelling had echoed through the entire base. Marcus, as always, had been silent.

“Shut up, Shaw, you moron.” The deep female voice carried an edge.

Elle had decided there were two words that best described the only female soldier on Hell Squad—loner and tough. Claudia Frost was everything Elle wasn’t. Elle cleared her throat. “Just get yourselves back to base.”

As she listened to the team fight their way through the rex nest, she tapped in the command for one of the Hawk quadcopters to pick them up.

The line crackled. “Okay, Elle, we’re through. Heading to the evac point.”

Marcus’ deep voice flowed over her and the tense muscles in her shoulders relaxed a fraction. They’d be back soon. They were okay. He was okay.

She pressed a finger to the blue dot leading the team. “The bird’s en route, Marcus.”

“Thanks. See you soon.”

She watched on the screen as the large, black shadow of the Hawk hovered above the ground and the team boarded. The rex was headed in their direction, but they were already in the air.

Elle stood and ran her hands down her trousers. She shot a wry smile at the camouflage fabric. It felt like a dream to think that she’d ever owned a very expensive, designer wardrobe. And heels—God, how long had it been since she’d worn heels? These days, fatigues were all that hung in her closet. Well-worn ones, at that.

As she headed through the tunnels of the underground base toward the landing pads, she forced herself not to run. She’d see him—them—soon enough. She rounded a corner and almost collided with someone.

“General. Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No problem, Elle.” General Adam Holmes had a military-straight bearing he’d developed in the United Coalition Army and a head of dark hair with a brush of distinguished gray at his temples. He was classically handsome, and his eyes were a piercing blue. He was the top man in this last little outpost of humanity. “Squad Six on their way back?”

“Yes, sir.” They fell into step.

“And they secured the map?”

God, Elle had almost forgotten about the map. “Ah, yes. They got images of it just before they came under attack by raptors.”

“Well, let’s go welcome them home. That map might just be the key to the fate of mankind.”

They stepped into the landing areas. Staff in various military uniforms and civilian clothes raced around. After the raptors had attacked, bringing all manner of vicious creatures with them to take over the Earth, what was left of mankind had banded together.

Whoever had survived now lived here in an underground base in the Blue Mountains, just west of Sydney, or in the other, similar outposts scattered across the planet. All arms of the United Coalition’s military had been decimated. In the early days, many of the surviving soldiers had fought amongst themselves, trying to work out who outranked whom. But it didn’t take long before General Holmes had unified everyone against the aliens. Most squads were a mix of ranks and experience, but the teams eventually worked themselves out. Most didn’t even bother with titles and rank anymore.

Sirens blared, followed by the clang of metal. Huge doors overhead retracted into the roof.

A Hawk filled the opening, with its sleek gray body and four spinning rotors. It was near-silent, running on a small thermonuclear engine. It turned slowly as it descended to the landing pad.

Her team was home.

She threaded her hands together, her heart beating a little faster.

Marcus was home.

***

Marcus Steele wanted a shower and a beer.

Hot, sweaty and covered in raptor blood, he leaped down from the Hawk and waved at his team to follow. He kept a sharp eye on the medical team who raced out to tend to Shaw. Dr. Emerson Green was leading them, her white lab coat snapping around her curvy body. The blonde doctor caught his gaze and tossed him a salute.

Shaw was cursing and waving them off, but one look from Marcus and the lanky Australian sniper shut his mouth.

Marcus swung his laser carbine over his shoulder and scraped a hand down his face. Man, he’d kill for a hot shower. Of course, he’d have to settle for a cold one since they only allowed hot water for two hours in the morning in order to conserve energy. But maybe after that beer he’d feel human again.

“Well done, Squad Six.” Holmes stepped forward. “Steele, I hear you got images of the map.”

Holmes might piss Marcus off sometimes, but at least the guy always got straight to the point. He was a general to the bone and always looked spit and polish. Everything about him screamed money and a fancy education, so not surprisingly, he tended to rub the troops the wrong way.

Marcus pulled the small, clear comp chip from his pocket. “We got it.”

Then he spotted her.

Shit. It was always a small kick in his chest. His gaze traveled up Elle Milton’s slim figure, coming to rest on a face he could stare at all day. She wasn’t very tall, but that didn’t matter. Something about her high cheekbones, pale-blue eyes, full lips, and rain of chocolate-brown hair…it all worked for him. Perfectly. She was beautiful, kind, and far too good to be stuck in this crappy underground maze of tunnels, dressed in hand-me-down fatigues.

She raised a slim hand. Marcus shot her a small nod.

“Hey, Ellie-girl. Gonna give me a kiss?”

Shaw passed on an iono-stretcher hovering off the ground and Marcus gritted his teeth. The tall, blond sniper with his lazy charm and Aussie drawl was popular with the ladies. Shaw flashed his killer smile at Elle.

She smiled back, her blue eyes twinkling and Marcus’ gut cramped.

Then she put one hand on her hip and gave the sniper a head-to-toe look. She shook her head. “I think you get enough kisses.”

Marcus released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“See you later, Sarge.” Zeke Jackson slapped Marcus on the back and strolled past. His usually-silent twin, Gabe, was beside him. The twins, both former Coalition Army Special Forces soldiers, were deadly in the field. Marcus was damned happy to have them on his squad.

“Howdy, Princess.” Claudia shot Elle a smirk as she passed.

Elle rolled her eyes. “Claudia.”

Cruz, Marcus’ second-in-command and best friend from their days as Coalition Marines, stepped up beside Marcus and crossed his arms over his chest. He’d already pulled some of his lightweight body armor off, and the ink on his arms was on display.

The general nodded at Cruz before looking back at Marcus. “We need Shaw back up and running ASAP. If the raptor prisoner we interrogated is correct, that map shows one of the main raptor communications hubs.” There was a blaze of excitement in the usually-stoic general’s voice. “It links all their operations together.”

Yeah, Marcus knew it was big. Destroy the hub, send the raptor operations into disarray.

The general continued. “As soon as the tech team can break the encryption on the chip and give us a location for the raptor comms hub—” his piercing gaze leveled on Marcus “—I want your team back out there to plant the bomb.”

Marcus nodded. He knew if they destroyed the raptors’ communications it gave humanity a fighting chance. A chance they desperately needed.

He traded a look with Cruz. Looked like they were going out to wade through raptor gore again sooner than anticipated.

Man, he really wanted that beer.

Then Marcus’ gaze landed on Elle again. He didn’t keep going out there for himself, or Holmes. He went so people like Elle and the other civilian survivors had a chance. A chance to do more than simply survive.

“Shaw’s wound is minor. Doc Emerson should have him good as new in an hour or so.” Since the advent of the nano-meds, simple wounds could be healed in hours, rather than days and weeks. They carried a dose of the microscopic medical machines on every mission, but only for dire emergencies. The nano-meds had to be administered and monitored by professionals or they were just as likely to kill you from the inside than heal you.

General Holmes nodded. “Good.”

Elle cleared her throat. “There’s no telling how long it will take to break the encryption. I’ve been working with the tech team and even if they break it, we may not be able to translate it all. We’re getting better at learning the raptor language but there are still huge amounts of it we don’t yet understand.”

Marcus’ jaw tightened. There was always something. He knew Noah Kim—their resident genius computer specialist—and his geeks were good, but if they couldn’t read the damn raptor language…

Holmes turned. “Steele, let your team have some downtime and be ready the minute Noah has anything.”

“Yes, sir.” As the general left, Marcus turned to Cruz. “Go get yourself a beer, Ramos.”

“Don’t need to tell me more than once, amigo. I would kill for some of my dad’s tamales to go with it.” Something sad flashed across a face all the women in the base mooned over, then he grimaced and a bone-deep weariness colored his words. “Need to wash the raptor off me, first.” He tossed Marcus a casual salute, Elle a smile, and strode out.

Marcus frowned after his friend and absently started loosening his body armor.

Elle moved up beside him. “I can take the comp chip to Noah.”

“Sure.” He handed it to her. When her fingers brushed his he felt the warmth all the way through him. Hell, he had it bad. Thankfully, he still had his armor on or she’d see his cock tenting his pants.

“I’ll come find you as soon as we have something.” She glanced up at him. Smiled. “Are you going to rec night tonight? I hear Cruz might even play guitar for us.”

The Friday-night gathering was a chance for everyone to blow off a bit of steam and drink too much homebrewed beer. And Cruz had an unreal talent with a guitar, although lately Marcus hadn’t seen the man play too much.

Marcus usually made an appearance at these parties, then left early to head back to his room to study raptor movements or plan the squad’s next missions. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Great.” She smiled. “I’ll see you there, then.” She hurried out clutching the chip.

He stared at the tunnel where she’d exited for a long while after she disappeared, and finally ripped his chest armor off. Ah, on second thought, maybe going to the rec night wasn’t a great idea. Watching her pretty face and captivating smile would drive him crazy. He cursed under his breath. He really needed that cold shower.

As he left the landing pads, he reminded himself he should be thinking of the mission. Destroy the hub and kill more aliens. Rinse and repeat. Death and killing, that was about all he knew.

He breathed in and caught a faint trace of Elle’s floral scent. She was clean and fresh and good. She always worried about them, always had a smile, and she was damned good at providing their comms and intel.

She was why he fought through the muck every day. So she could live and the goodness in her would survive. She deserved more than blood and death and killing.

And she sure as hell deserved more than a battled-scarred, bloodstained soldier.

Hell Squad

Marcus

Cruz

Gabe

Reed

Roth

Noah

Shaw

Holmes

Niko

Finn

Devlin

Theron

Hemi

Treasure hunters, dangerous desert planet, wild beasts, and deadly thieves—the only thing standing between her and danger is one lethal man who might be more dangerous than them all.

With a secret map in hand, astro-archeologist Dr. Lexa Carter is excited for an expedition to a lawless desert planet in search of an invaluable old Earth artifact. She finally has her chance to prove herself to her disapproving family. But instead of adventure, she finds herself in the middle of treasure hunters, feral beasts, dangerous enemies and wild sandstorms. And her unwelcome protector is her museum’s mysterious—and frankly arrogant and annoying—new head of security, Damon Malik.

After years as a galactic spy, Damon Malik just wants a quiet job where no one tries to kill him. Instead of easy work in a museum full of artifacts, he finds himself on a backwater planet babysitting the most infuriating woman he’s ever met. Lexa might be smart and gorgeous, but Damon knows trouble when he sees it.

She thinks he’s arrogant. He thinks she’s a trouble-magnet. But among the desert sands and ruins, their treasure hunt—led by a young, brash treasure hunter named Dathan Phoenix—takes a dark turn. Someone doesn’t want them to find the treasure and they want Lexa and Damon dead. Damon isn’t sure if he wants to strangle Lexa or kiss her, but they will need to work together to have any chance of surviving among galactic ruins.

The Phoenix Adventures

Among Galactic Ruins

At Star’s End

In the Devil’s Nebula

On a Rogue Planet

Beneath a Trojan Moon

Beyond Galaxy’s Edge

On a Cyborg Planet

Return to Dark Earth

On a Barbarian World

Lost in Barbarian Space

Through Uncharted Space

Also by Anna Hackett

Treasure Hunter Security

Undiscovered

Uncharted

Unexplored

Unfathomed

Galactic Gladiators

Gladiator

Warrior

Hero

Protector

Champion

Barbarian

Hell Squad

Marcus

Cruz

Gabe

Reed

Roth

Noah

Shaw

Holmes

Niko

Finn

Theron

Hemi

The Anomaly Series

Time Thief

Mind Raider

Soul Stealer

Salvation

Anomaly Series Box Set

The Phoenix Adventures

Among Galactic Ruins

At Star’s End

In the Devil’s Nebula

On a Rogue Planet

Beneath a Trojan Moon

Beyond Galaxy’s Edge

On a Cyborg Planet

Return to Dark Earth

On a Barbarian World

Lost in Barbarian Space

Through Uncharted Space

Perma Series

Winter Fusion

The WindKeepers Series

Wind Kissed, Fire Bound

Taken by the South Wind

Tempting the West Wind

Defying the North Wind

Claiming the East Wind

Standalone Titles

Savage Dragon

Hunter’s Surrender

One Night with the Wolf

Anthologies

A Galactic Holiday

Moonlight (UK only)

Vampire Hunter (UK only)

Awakening the Dragon (UK Only)

For more information visit AnnaHackettBooks.com

About the Author

I’m a USA Today bestselling author and I’m passionate about action romance. I love stories that combine the thrill of falling in love with the excitement of action, danger and adventure. I’m a sucker for that moment when the team is walking in slow motion, shoulder-to-shoulder heading off into battle. I write about people overcoming unbeatable odds and achieving seemingly impossible goals. I like to believe it’s possible for all of us to do the same.

My books are mixture of action, adventure and sexy romance and they’re recommended for anyone who enjoys fast-paced stories where the boy wins the girl at the end (or sometimes the girl wins the boy!)

For release dates, action romance info, free books, and other fun stuff, sign up for the latest news here:

Website: AnnaHackettBooks.com

Table of Contents

What readers are saying about Anna’s Science Fiction Romance

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Preview – Hell Squad: Marcus

Also by Anna Hackett

About the Author