Claiming His Champion Read online

  Claiming

  His Champion

  Lily Thomas

  Chapter 1

  Anara rolled her neck against her shoulders, and then shook out her shoulders. It was time to limber up. She liked to give her muscles a good stretch each day, since she never knew what would be thrown at her in the Friren arena, and she wanted to be ready for anything.

  “Hey, Anara.” Her ‘friend’ sidled up next to her, so they could stretch together.

  “Hey, Tiera.” Anara eyed her ‘friend’ for a second.

  Friend was a lose term around here, but they’d been lucky, so far. At some point, they’d have to face each other out in the arena, but until that moment, they’d struck up a loose friendship. They watched each other’s back, while in the barracks.

  Even though it was a risk having a friendship, Anara couldn’t help herself. It could get lonely in the arena, with no one else to talk with.

  And she’d been in the arena for a long time. So long, she’d lost track of time. This was her life now, and she’d already turned down two opportunities to leave.

  The Frirens would buy or kidnap fighters for their arenas, and after winning a certain number of rounds, the reigning champion would be offered a choice. To remain or to go free.

  She’d chosen to remain, because it was free room and board!

  If she’d left, what would she have done? Scraped out a living among people who hadn’t seen what she’d seen? She’d been an innocent woman, when she’d been captured by the Frirens, and now look at her. She was a hardened warrior that the audience respected and rooted for. Anara couldn’t go back to polite society.

  “Thinking about anything interesting?” Tiera asked, as she stretched out her legs.

  “Nah. Just thinking about the arena.”

  Tiera nodded. This was her life now as well. The arena either became your life or took your life.

  “Did you hear about the new transfer we got?” Tiera glanced over at her.

  Anara shook her head. She hated it, when the Frirens mixed things up and threw new people into her arena.

  “Anything interesting?”

  “They transferred in a… Vrak’rir.” Tiera whispered over in awe. “From what I hear, his body is littered with tattoos, and you know what that means.”

  They might be screwed.

  “Every tattoo symbolizes an enemy destroyed or a battle won. Fan-fucking-tastic.” Anara was peeved! She was the champion of this specific arena, and now the Frirens were trying to get rid of her? Clearly, they were cleaning house, but she didn’t understand why.

  Audiences paid a lot to see strong aliens get their butts handed to them on a platter by a human woman.

  “We’re all screwed.” Tiera echoed Anara’s thoughts out loud.

  Anara looked over at where Tiera was still stretching out her legs. Tiera was a Dekkarian. She had spots like a cheetah with yellow cat eyes, good hearing and eyesight, pointed ears, and reddish blonde hair.

  Anara was just a human. She had even less of a chance against a Vrak’rir. If she had to rate how scared she was about this transfer, it’d be about a nine out of ten.

  “So much for you being the only female champion that we know of. Sounds like the Frirens are numbering your days.”

  “I was proud of that title.” Anara tried to limber up some more, but now she wasn’t feeling it anymore. She was more than just bummed, she felt betrayed by the Frirens. “If they kill me off, they’ll regret it. Every time I fight, the stands are packed beyond capacity. People love to see a human woman rocking the arena. They find it amusing to watch me wipe the floor with all these ‘strong’ alien warriors.”

  Tiera shrugged. “Maybe they want you to defeat the Vrak’rir. Everyone would definitely be surprised, if you could manage it.”

  Anara snorted. “Like hell. That’s probably the only species of alien I’d go running from like a little girl.”

  “Don’t worry about it for now. Maybe they’ll cleanse the rest of us and never have you battle him.”

  Anara picked up her swords, which had been leaning against a nearby wall. These had been with her, since her first day here in the arena. They were her lucky weapons, not that she needed luck. She had skill.

  “Let us hope you’re right.”

  Rauhq glared at all the new warriors around him. Damn the Frirens for switching him to a new arena. He’d been the champion of his last arena, and he was proud of it. Now he’d have to learn about all the warriors in this one, like their weaknesses and their strengths.

  A challenge he was willing to take head on though. So far, he hadn’t been impressed with the warriors in his barracks. But from what he’d heard, there were about five separate barracks at this one arena, meaning he had yet to see all of his possible opponents.

  Rauhq made his way to the mess hall and glared down anyone who stared at him. He might be a rare sight, but he wouldn’t put up with being gawked at. He wasn’t here to entertain them; he was here to kill them. Vrak’rir had to one of the most feared species, if not the most feared, in the universe. Their tempers were volatile at best, and merciless at worst.

  This arena he’d been placed in was bigger than his last. He marveled at the immense size of the mess hall. There had to be room for at least two hundred fighters, and they had five of these. This was impressive to say the least, which meant he was definitely on the Friren home world. There was no doubt in his mind.

  What he needed to do was find someone to talk with. Was he hear to fight and defeat the current champion or was this champion supposed to take him out? He didn’t know what the Frirens were planning, and he wouldn’t know until he learned more about this arena.

  Walking over to a table with some fighters who were eating he dropped his hand on one of their shoulders. The alien man looked up, his eyes widened, and then Rauhq could smell the scent of piss.

  Really?

  Wrinkling his nose up in disgust, Rauhq left those warriors to themselves and made his way to another table. He wasn’t about to ask a pant wetter what the current champion was like in this arena.

  He plopped down at a seat, and all eyes turned to focus on him.

  “Who can tell me a little about this arena’s champion?” He inquired of the table.

  No one answered.

  “Surely, one of you has met him or knows something about him.” Rauhq prompted.

  One warrior at the table gave a bark or laughter. “Sure. I’ve seen the champion before.”

  “And? What is his species?”

  The warrior tried to hide a smirk, but failed. “Well, first, the champion is a she, and she is a human.”

  Rauhq’s gaze narrowed on the other warrior. “If you jest with me, I will be sure to kill you, and I might not wait for to be in the arena.” Rauhq threatened.

  The warrior visibly gulped, as his adams apple bobbed up and down. He shook his head. “It’s no joke. She’s a human, and she is the champion of this arena. If they brought you in to take her out, then they’re going overkill.”

  Rauhq agreed. He was impressed a human woman had held championship in an arena in the first place, but to send him in to take her out? It wouldn’t be close to a fair fight! But that didn’t mean he was going to take it easy with her. If it was his task to take her out, then that’s exactly what he’d do.

  It was time for her next battle in the arena. Anara felt some jitters run through her, but she was ready for this fight. She was always ready for this. There was nothing better than to show off her skills to a ginormous crowd and hear their delighted encouragement.

  She waited at the gate with other warriors from her barrack.

  “Good luck!” Tiera called out from further in the corridor.

  “I won’t n
eed it!” Anara called back to her.

  She glanced over the warriors around her. None of these aliens worried her. She had this fight in the bag.

  The gate rose, and all the warriors poured out into the arena. A fine dust was kicked up with all the feet shuffling over the ground, and Anara sucked in the pleasant smell of fresh air. Soon it would smell like blood and dead bodies.

  She glanced around, as they got into position, and then waited for the Frirens.

  Were the Frirens going to open up another gate to allow another barrack of fighters in?

  There five barracks at this arena, and each held a mind boggling number of fighters. Anara glanced around, but all other four barrack gates stayed shut. Then why was the speaker taking such a long time? They usually got things going for the crowd. It was a bit strange, but not completely out of the ordinary.

  As long as they didn’t throw any curve balls her way. She liked the lineup of warriors in the arena. It would be an easy battle, and one she would enjoy.

  Then the speaker came over the loudspeakers. “Welcome to the arena! Today we will have a special treat for all of our honored spectators.”

  Anara’s eyes narrowed, and she glanced around the arena at the other fighters. Everyone else looked just as puzzled as she. What was this “special treat”?

  The Frirens were up to something. One lesson in the galaxy that would never fail was, never trust a Friren. They were slippery snakes, when they wanted to be.

  Movement caught her eye. Whipping around she saw gate three had fighters lining up behind it. More warriors for the arena?

  How many warriors were the Frirens planning on fitting in the arena? How long she could she fight without tiring?

  Adrenaline pumped through her body, and her fingers gripped her two swords tighter. The Frirens wanted a show? Fine. She’d give them a show, and she would remain the kickass champion that she was.

  The only problem. She didn’t see gate three fighters too often. This meant she’d have a bit of a challenge on her hands, but she could handle it. She had faith in her ability to spot weaknesses.

  Gate three opened and all the fighters sprinted into the arena like the devil was on their tail, and he was. The Vrak’rir marched into the arena, his dark eyes scanning over the arena. His lip curled up in disgust, and her heart sank.

  Anara felt her eyes pop out of her head, and her heart rate spiked. She was screwed. She was way more than screwed. He was going to massacre everyone who was currently in the arena.

  She gulped.

  This was the first time she’d ever felt true terror. She’d always been at the top of the food chain, and now look at her.

  The Vrak’rir had to be at least two heads taller than her. Would her head even be at the same height as his chest?! His chest and arms were littered with black tattoos, showing his skill as a warrior and position.

  But she didn’t have time to think about him. The horn blew and fighting spread like wildfire.

  A Daen’su jumped her, and she ducked the slash of his sword. As she evaded his sword strike, she rolled under his arm and sliced at his side. She smiled, as she felt her blade meet flesh. The Daen’su went down, and she finished him with a well-placed stab.

  Before he hit the ground, she was pummeled to the ground. Now an unknown alien species was trying to beat her with his fists.

  Like hell.

  He wasn’t going to be the one to take down the reigning champion.

  She kept blocking his meaty fists with her arms, but she wouldn’t be able to take much more. Lowering her arms her head came forward and conked him in the forehead. She felt like she’d just cracked her skull, but she didn’t have time to think about any pain or the fact that there was now a trickle of blood running down her forehead.

  Rolling out from under him, she grabbed one of her swords and plunged it into the back of the alien’s neck.

  Taught him to tackle a woman.

  Looking around the arena, Anara took stock of what was going on. A lot of warriors had already gone down, and she could spy the culprit. The Vrak’rir was wrecking terror through the arena.

  Every time a warrior got too close, the Vrak’rir would cut them down and quickly move on to the next. Just watching him made her shiver a bit. He used a large battle ax to hack through his opponents. If she was part of the audience, she would be impressed with his skill, but it terrified her since she was in the ring with him.

  They were going to have to team up to get this Vrak’rir out of their arena, but she had no idea how to get any of this chaos under control. Every time the Vrak’rir drew near other warriors, they’d scattered like chickens.

  They needed to stop battling each other and fight as one. The Vrak’rir couldn’t possibly defeat them all. Not even he could be that skilled.

  Rauhq wanted to laugh in the face of every pathetic warrior he took down. This was supposed to be a battle? Where was the battle? It was a slaughter, and he was tearing it apart. He felt pleased with himself.

  Now where was that human champion at? If the Frirens wanted her taken out, he’d be more than happy to oblige them.

  Rauhq looked around, and then spotted a human woman fighting a couple warriors by herself. He took a second to watch her. Her movements were fluid and graceful, and she relied on her agility when facing a stronger opponent. Her swords were like extensions of her arms. It was beautiful to watch. Too bad he would have to take her out to please the Frirens.

  A sound drew his attention away from her fight, and he glanced over to see a fighter rushing him.

  He cocked an eyebrow, right as he twisted on his heel. The warrior would have gone rushing past, if Rauhq hadn’t reached out with a hand, grabbed the man by the throat, and broke his neck.

  Rauhq’s cold onyx eyes watched the body drop to the ground of the arena. This was too easy. Where was his challenge?

  He looked up at where the speaker was watching the games and the audiences’ reactions. The goal was to please the audience, and the speaker was trying to see what thrilled them so they could duplicate it in other battles.

  Anara sliced one of her blades against her opponent’s neck, and then looked around to see who was left standing.

  The Vrak’rir had finally gotten teamed up on, so she decided to lean back against the wall of the arena and watch. She would join in, but she would also be a target. All of these warriors wanted to kill her to become the new champion of the arena.

  And this was her opportunity to see the Vrak’rir’s weaknesses, if he did somehow make it through all those warriors. How good really was this Vrak’rir? He might look like a beast ready for war, but that didn’t mean he knew how to battle effectively.

  He was shirtless, and his blue skin was stretched taunt over those hard muscles. Too bad she’d have to kill him. He really was a handsome looking alien. That chiseled jaw line and those thick muscles running along his arms. Anara could imagine a night with him might be a night to remember.

  But she shoved those erotic thoughts down. There would be nothing between them, because soon there would only be one of them left breathing.

  The Vrak’rir sliced the blade of his ax through two of his opponents, and Anara whistled lightly. The strength behind that ax stroke. Within minutes, he had killed the others who’d teamed up against him, to Anara’s pure amazement.

  Now it was her turn to show him what he was messing with. This was her domain, and she wasn’t about to let go of it. She was dead if she froze in fear and had a slim chance if she fought, so fight she would.

  Anara shoved herself off the wall and popped her neck.

  The Vrak’rir glanced around, and their eyes met. Onyx eyes clashed with hazel eyes. Anara sent him a smirk.

  “Come and get me, big boy.” She taunted loudly enough for him to hear.

  He hefted his battle ax, and for a moment a slice of doubt pierced her, but she shoved it away. She could do this. Half the fight was just believing in herself and being more agile then her opponents.
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br />   Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. He might have muscles, but she had agility. She’d poke and prod him into a rage, and then he’d make a misstep. It was how she always took down larger opponents, like this Vrak’rir.

  He had to be slow and bulky with all those muscles. But to be honest she hadn’t really been watching him for weaknesses, and the time she had been, she’d been fantasizing about his body.

  Rauhq wanted to laugh. This woman was ridiculous! Look at those tiny arms and spindly legs. This wasn’t even a fair fight!

  Yet she was taunting him.

  He looked up at the speaker. Would the Frirens stop the fight and save their only female champion? The speaker made no move towards his microphone. They were going to allow him to kill her.

  So be it. She wouldn’t be the first woman he’d killed in the arena and wouldn’t be the last.

  Rauhq holstered his battle ax and slid a dagger out of a sheath at his waist. Now it would be a fair fight. Maybe.

  “I’m happy to report that both of our champions have survived to the end. Now they will fight each other, and we will have our reigning champion!” The speaker informed the audience.

  The crowd went wild. If a human woman could defeat a Vrak’rir, it would be an astounding match to watch.

  Rauhq sent the crowd a dazzling smile and raised his dagger in the air. This was his life. He’d decided a long time ago he had nothing to live for anymore. The arena was his sense of self.

  After he lost his family, he’d had no reason to live. He’d never stop beating himself up about it. He’d been unable to protect them, and now they were dead.

  The horn blew again, and Rauhq shook the memories away.

  His eyes settled on the human woman before him. Too bad he’d have to kill her, on second glance there were some things about her that he liked, like those full breasts and shapely bottom.

  He’d been without a woman for quite some time, and she was definitely pleasing to the eye. If the Frirens let her live, he might pursue he to be his bedmate.