Dron swayed on his feet.
The mace in his hand felt like two tons of lead. He had to let it go, but he knew that if he did, he’d be completely defenseless. It wasn’t as if he could use the spear to keep the other alphas away.
He could barely get it up to thrust.
The loud buzzer sounded again. The sound caused Dron’s head to pound.
"What’s wrong, beast?" one of the other fighters antagonized Dron.
Dron tried to talk, but he could barely get his eyes to see straight.
Two of the fighters lined up behind him and used their weapons to push him forward.
Dron grumbled when, instead of the dull edge of the weapon, the man behind him took that opportunity to jab at him with the pointed edge of whatever weapon he was about to use for the battle.
Dron wanted to turn around and knock the man’s head off, but he couldn’t do anything but be abused.
He knew the minute that he went out to the main area everyone was going to jump him. The most he could do was try to get away. Try to keep himself away from the onslaught.
Dron stumbled once again right at the entrance of the tunnel that led to the colosseum. He collided with the man in front of him. The alpha growled and turned on Dron before he literally shoved Dron so hard against the wall his bones rattled.
"Not yet, Torax. Let the oga see just how weak her mate is," the one in the front said.
That was what this was all about. They wanted to show the foreigner how much of a bad decision she made. Maybe they were right. Dron should’ve kept his guard up. He should’ve known that this was all a trick.
Why the hell would a royal prince invite him here for anything but destruction?
He should’ve seen the dart coming before it hit his skin.
Dron felt like he should’ve done a lot of things differently, but right now all he could do was focus on staying alive.
He steadied himself and tried to shake off the effects of the alpha suppression dication, but it wasn’t working. Finally, they made it to the opening of the tunnel, and Dron stepped up into the sand-filled arena.
It was a complete spectacle.
Sohow, the prince had managed to get everyone that lived in the High Royal class to be spectators.
The second Dron stepped out of the tunnel, the jeers and boos rained in his direction. Not to ntion the large chunks of food people were throwing at him.
Dron thought this was just a sparring match. He was wrong.
This was set up to be a massacre.
Dron didn’t even want to look up into the stands. He didn’t want to look up into the crowd to see the smugness on everyone’s face, but he couldn’t help himself.
Dron didn’t know where Tempest was. Didn’t know if she was safe. Didn’t know what the prince had done to her.
Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes scanning the crowd.
He found Tempest in the main box, standing next to Prince Jaqen.
The prince had adopted so of Tempest’s expressions. When Dron leveled his eyes on the man, he noticed that the prince was smirking.
The smirk looked nothing like how Tempest looked at Dron.
He slid his gaze over to Tempest. Her face was red, and Dron could see her mouth moving as if she were talking. He wondered what Tempest was saying. Wondering if she were pleading with the prince to let him go. Or maybe she was telling Prince Jaqen exactly what to do to take Dron out of her life.
This could be a way for her to get back ho.
Dron didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to think that Tempest would turn on him to get back to Earth.
Out of everyone on this planet, Prince Jaqen would absolutely be the one who could get her back ho.
Dron swayed again and closed his eyes.
There was a master of ceremonies talking.
Apparently, he was introducing the fighters. Dron had to pay attention. Had to try to prepare himself for what he was about to face.
He didn’t know any of the fighters personally, so he didn’t know what they were capable of. All he knew for sure was that they were all destined to go back to the black cells once this battle was over. Everyone except whoever took him out.
All he had to do was stay alive.
Dron forced himself to focus.
"Alphas, Ogas, and the most pristine of us all, I bring you the main event. A special occasion brought to you by our crowned prince." The master of ceremonies was a short alpha. He wasn’t horned, and his markings were a pale golden color. If this were any other class system, he would be considered subpar, but in the High Royal class he was probably considered special.
Dron kept his eyes on the man and waited for him to get to the explanations.
"To our far right, we have Torax, a citizen of the poor class, decorated soldier and assassin. His anger is legendary and has caused him a host of problems. We’re hoping today he will put his anger to good use and give us a good show."
The crowd clapped and roared.
That was Dron’s first clue. Torax was ruled by his anger. He would have to use that to his advantage.
"Next to him we have Xaqor. He is a sneaky demon. His blades move faster than the lies that spew from his mouth."
The crowd groaned before they clapped. It was another hint for Dron. He would have to keep an eye on Xaqor at a distance. He was the one who was flipping a knife before. Dron suspected that Xaqor would try to take him out from afar like a sniper. That ant Dron always needed to stay on the move. That would be hard since he could barely stay on his feet at the mont.
The master of ceremonies continued. The words started to sound like they were coming from underwater. Dron shook his head, trying to fight through the anti-alpha suppression.
"Draxor is next in line and the one to beat. We’ve all got our bets on him, don’t we?" the master of ceremonies shouted, and the crowd responded, shouting back.
Dron didn’t hear what Draxor was good at. He hoped it wouldn’t take him too long to figure it out. His life depended on being able to navigate this fight.
"Next we have Vraq. He is the only one in the black cells to proclaim his innocence. He’ll fight tooth, horn, and nail to get free. Let’s hope that desperation transfers into the battle."
Dron slowly turned his gaze to Vraq. The alpha looked scared. That could be a problem. If what the master of ceremonies had said was accurate, then this man was fighting for his life the sa as Dron. That could make him the most dangerous of them all.
"Finally, the contender you all are here to see. The star of this show."
Dron felt every pair of eyes in the arena focus on him. This was why they were really here. They wanted to see the cursed one. The blight of their people. They wanted to see the monster who hid in the dark.
Dron pulled his shoulders back and tried to stand tall. He’d been the villain in everyone’s story for so long, but this felt different. This wasn’t just dislike or fear. This was hatred.
They hated him for what he was, and if he could trust what Draxor had said in the preparation chamber, they all thought he had no claim on Tempest and was shooting above his station.
"Now it’s ti to get this battle underway. Prince Jaqen, your blessings." The master of ceremonies turned to Prince Jaqen, who stepped forward.
Dron wasn’t focused on the prince’s face. In fact, the only part of the prince he was focused on was his hand.
A hand that was holding on to Tempest. Squeezing her arm and nearly dragging her forward.
She didn’t want to be there. Didn’t want to be next to him.
Dron growled lowly when she jerked his eyes up to hers and could see the pain in her expression.
His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the start of a tingle in his muscles.
The anti-alpha suppression should take hours to clear his system, but seeing Tempest in danger was doing sothing to him.
The anger and rage built to an uncontrollable level inside his body.
Dron took a deep breath and focused on Tempest’s face again. He pushed and pushed, trying to force his body to be his own again.
A single tear slid down Tempest’s face, and Dron let out a loud roar. At the sa second, the crowned prince raised his free hand to give the blessing for the match to start.
Dron’s eyes were still on Tempest’s face when complete bedlam broke loose.
The fight was on.
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