Chapter 22
Chapter
22
Fury striking through him like a lightning bolt, Caleb stands sobruptly, that his chair pushes back and falls flat against the stone tiles of his office.
"How the hell was she able to make a call?" he demands.
Tristan looks straight at him. "I let her use my phone."
Enraged, Caleb rounds the desk. Never in his recent life did he think he would have to lay hands on his Beta. Tristan has always been dutiful, diligent, and above all, loyal. For him to have changed so suddenly Has he been enchanted by this troublesome slave?
That singular thought keeps him from punching his Beta.
That woman used similar powers on him... easing his headaches as she has been able to. Caleb doesn't believe in massages and relaxation techniques. They've never worked before.
Magic, however. That would make sense.
The magical trickeries could best any man, Tristan included. With this, Caleb finds forgiveness in his heart.
For now.
As his anger burns away, his curiosity begins to sprout.
"Who did she call?" Caleb says. "Tell me everything"
"The call was placed to Samuel, the soon-to-be Alpha of her pack. Background research on this man have shown that he was once engaged to Harper. Now, instead, he is engaged to her sister, Leah." "A man of poor judgement all around," Caleb says. "This entire family should be avoided."
"There appears to still be love held, at least from Harper's side, Tristan says. "She told this man that she loves him."
Hot white rage spikes fiercely through Caleb's body. His vision flashes red. His teeth begin to elongate with the shift. It takes all he has to hold back his furious wolf.
Closing his eyes, he takes several deep breaths.
Easy, he tells his wolf. This one means nothing to us. We do not care if she loves some whelp.
Besides, it won't matter anyway soon enough. When the bear clan destroys that pack, the newly appointed Alpha will be the
first to fall
Despite Harper's insistence that Caleb is cruel, Caleb does not make this tactical decision with any frivolity. He knows there will be losses, and he mourns for them, even if they are traitorous demons who hide his child from him. However, punishment must be rendered for their treason. That is punishment allies with bringing the bear clan out of hiding only increases the appeal.
That this Alpha will likely die first makes the plan irresistible. Let this slave mourn the loss of this love. Her devotion should only be to her king *Before I could stop her, she attempted to alert Samuel about the encroaching attack," Tristan says. "However. He did not believe her." 11:55 Mon, Nov 18 GG.
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"You are certain?" Caleb says, "We cannot allow word of our knowledge to reach this pack, lest we turn more against us with our indifference."
"He was very dismissive," Tristan replies. "He could have been lying, I suppose. But it seems unlikely. He seems to have severe mistrust of Miss Lovett." "Good Good." Caleb frowns, thinking of the slave, "What a horrible wench. You saw her to the Colosseum?"
"I did."
"Then let us push along her first match Caleb's sour mood turns, thinking of her in the sandy arena, her doe eyes looking up at him in the King's box, begging him to save her. "I cannot wait to hear her pleas for help."
A guard roughly drags my arm through a winding tunnel that seems to coil down deeper beneath the walls of the colosseum. At the base of the tunnel, the hallway widens into a massive room with arching stone ceilings and dusty floors. Makeshift rooms of tied up planks and twine separate the larger room into smaller bed chambers. At the center of square of bedchambers, slaves and gladiators yield crude swords and axes. They strike training dummies made of straw. Guards stand at every column, guns trailed on any with weapons, likely willing and able to shoot at any that try to use the weapons for their escape.
The guard dragging me, shoves me down in the center of this room, directly behind a trio of gladiators training. They are dressed differently than the slaves. Their collars are golden and elaborate. Their clothes are finer made. Two have pieces of metal armor. The third has a helmet that covers most of his face
All three gladiators have bulging muscles ripped with scare.
"What is this then?" The one with the helmet said, his gruff voice slightly muffled.
"Easy, Gold," says one of the other gladiators, a younger man with slicked back, shoulder-length hair, and a grin that shows more teeth than necessary.
Gold - the masked man- turns his head to seemingly glare at the other man. The man just grins that toothy smile.
The third gladiator, an older man with full gray beard and a deep slash over one eye, turns fully around and ignores the rest
of us.
The younger man kneels down beside me. "Ignore them, gorgeous. What's your name?"
I don't like the way he's eyeing my body like he's trying to discern my figure through my burlap tunic.
Gold grabs him by the shoulders and yanks him back to his feet "Knock it off, Kidd. You know these ones never last a week." "All the more reason to have fun while we can," the younger man- Kidd - replies.
My stomach churns in disgust. I think I might be sick.
"You sick fuck," Gold says and shoves Kidd away.
Kidd laughs.
Turning away from us, Gold takes up his sword again strikes at the training dummy once more.
As Kidd flashes his grin at me, I shove myself up to my feet. He ches toward me. I back up a step
Maybe I can turn and run? A guard might not protect me, but my speed might.
Yet just as I think it, a new person comes closer. She's well dressed in dusty white armor and a cap with a blue feather in it.
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She's tall and strong, a massive sword strapped toward her back
Unlike the rest of us, she wears no collar, though thick braceletscover her wrists, making me believe she's not fully free. Even so, she walks with an air of importance, that everyone how to even Kidd, who slinks away from me at last.
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She comes to stand before me then stares down at me with a twisted up, disgusted expression. "They send another straight to their deaths. Why waste my time? Why not just kill you?" She sighs. "Ah, who am I to question the will of the King. Let me look at you. What's your name?"
"Harper," I say I'm guessing last names don't matter here.
"That's what you are going with?" she asks. "You could be anything in here."
"Harper is my name," I say.
She shrugs. "Suit yourself." She straightens. "You may call me Pitmaster.
"That's your name?" I ask.
"My title," she says. "You'll learn my name in time, if you live long enough. Judging from the sight of you, sorry to say, you will not" She hitches her thumb, gesturing to the area around us. This is our pit, and I'm the master, got it? You listen to everything I say, and try your best not to die."
ant to even chance trying to navigate on my own.
I nod. In this strange new world, I don't want
"One last thing," the Pitmaster says, "Let me welcome you to hell on earth. Or under it, I suppose. We're all forgotten souls down here."