“I can smell Aleirah on you,” Fray murmured, keeping his voice low. “We are mated,” Ravage replied. “You must protect her at all costs.” Fray nodded. “Yes, my Alpha.” The trainer paused beside Ravage, and he had to fight the urge to allow his wolf out, to cleave the man in two with his bare hands. To rip all the fucking people of Kappuah to shreds. It would be easy, except he didn’t know where Aleirah was being held. So for now, he’d keep to the plan tentatively forming in his head. The trainer gave one last look over Ravage before turning his back and marching the other way. “The gladiator games are the highlight of the people’s weekend,” the trainer said loudly, addressing them all. “And they are the only things to matter in your life from now on, until you either succumb to the wounds you’ll receive inside the arena or if you’re lucky enough to survive the eight levels of Kappuah and find freedom.” He stopped in front of the youngest of Ravage’s men, a mere pup at only fourteen years. He’d been at the adult’s camp during the mating celebration since he was too young to participate. Now he stood in this line, trying to appear older than his years.
