Chapter 1
The air in the stadium hung with cheers, jeers and the subtle undertones of almost animalistic hunger for sex. The sexual tension in the stadium carried a sharp divide between predator and prize. Rows upon rows of seats towered above the arena, filled with patrons from every corner of society. Some had come for the spectacle, while others were placing wagers on the combatants.
Azrik walked slowly out of the shadows to join the men in a circle of the arena. With a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, he was unable to readjust his thin loincloth. To cover up his swaying member, he had to tie it before hand to cover it with more protection and chose for his buttocks to be exposed to the sun. An uproar of cheers erupted from the women seated behind him. Their enthusiasm disgusted him, but his attention remained fixed on the men standing before him with drawn swords and shields. Two were carrying spears.
Everyone in the circle had arrived for one reason: the strongest would fight for their equal mate. Each had to prove their worth to step into this arena. The officials called it compatibility. The politicians called it stability. To Azrik, it was simply another way to control who lived, who bred, and who held power.
While he wished to be in the safety of the seats, he chose to be in the arena for the fourth time. Each one had ended in failure, and this would most likely be his last. He had to join in a disastrous battle last year which left a sizable scar on his left arm despite the almost immediate attention of the healers. He tested the grit of the sand below as he sized up the other people. At least twenty men stood in the center of the arena. Most appeared to be around his age, though three younger men shifted nervously beneath the crowd’s gaze.
When he looked on the other side, he made eye contact two familiar faces. They made a brief nod as they hoped not to give away their truce. Those with alliances usually get targeted.
A strong breeze went through the arena and several shrieks pierced the air. The gust exposed each man’s arousal. No one moved to cover them. It was both a sign of strength and weakness. A man to Azrik’s left smirked.
“You seem to be at a disadvantage here.” He said as he pointed downward.
“That may be, but all the fine women come to see it each year.”
The man moved his thumb along his sword. “They may be disappointed next year then.”
As a response, Azrik performed a simple but complex sword slash pointing downwards.
“Some men aren’t here just to get a mate. Some come just to take out the men.” He said sharper than the sword in his hand.
The man stopped and took a small side step to deescalate the situation. He must have watched to know what can occur sometimes. Azrik personally had swords and fists barely grazed his groin. It was easier to take away the ability to mate than to kill them.
If you lived afterwards, they were usually put on the front lines. After that, you would hope for death. No one wished to live as eunuch sin the military.
Azrik glanced down and grimaced at the obvious bulge beneath his loincloth. Though it left him more vulnerable, he had taken herbs intended to increase his stamina for the competition. While it gave him extra energy, it also increases his virility. Azrik let out a sigh as he tried to get his mind off of his throbbing erection. Other than the new participants, everything seemed to be the same as last year.
The smell of sweat mixed with sand andiron.
His stomach tightened.
Last year had smelled exactly the same.
The energy was the same, but he was working with a more capable body then. At least more women were brought in than usual. Some of them picked their mate while others waited to be earned. It was a harsh battle where Azrik killed two of the participants and received some cuts in return. To his dismay, he was always at a disadvantage when the next woman was introduced into the arena.
After a heated sword fight, he had to catch his breath when a steak of blond hair appeared next to him. He was about to strike when her face stopped him in his tracks. Her face remained expressionless, carved from stone. Only the rapid flickering of her eyes across the arena betrayed her fear.
Recognizing her fear, Azrik pulled her to his side, making it clear that he had chosen her. To his relief, she came closer.
“Will you save me?” she whispered.
Azrik nodded. Despite her fear, a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
A loud sound shook them both as it was the signal that she was the last one to enter. The energy on the field shifted. Every man stopped as they look at the woman beside him. A group of them slowly walked towards them.
Looking for the exit, Azrik’s eyes found the last one to the right. It gave them an advantage. He signaled to her and started into a sprint.
She matched his pace, carefully keeping him between herself and the pack of pursuing men. The largest of the pursuers broke from the pack and brought his sword down in a powerful strike. Azrik deflected with his shield as he swiped in return. He continued to run. Something was wrong as the group stayed behind. The gleam of fresh crimson red tipped him off that his sword hit its mark.
As he looked over his shoulder, the man laid on the ground clutching his throat in the final moments before death. An angry yell echoed from the other side of the arena. Something whizzed by his head as it left a small cut on his cheek. He had trouble identifying where it came from when he turned to check on his companion.
He gasped ass he was stumbling as a spear pierced her side. He caught her before she fell over.
She gasped, spraying blood across his chest. Everything else disappeared as Azrik lowered her to the ground. She pulled him in close as she struggled to breathe.
“For a moment . . .”
She smiled as she touched his face.
“For a moment, I thought I was going to live.”
The light faded from her eyes as she died in his arms. Slowly, one sound above the rest came rushing back. It was a loud and angry laugh as if it found great pleasure in killing which for the most part was unheard of.
As he was coming back to that moment, he could hear the same laugh coming louder and louder as it echoed off of the arena’s walls.
Even through the roar of the crowd, he could hear that same laughter. It was a deep throaty laughter that he heard as he cradled his potential wife in his hands. Azrik looked around as he saw a towering man slowly walking out of the shadows on the far side of the arena. As he stepped into the light, a cruel grin spread across his face. Around the arena, hardened warriors stiffened at the sight of him.
