Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I want a coat. I want shoes. I want to know what the fuck is going on.
He said this was a game. Given that I have no idea what's happening, I have no choice but to trust him. I think about the woman who screamed at the blue spear-carrying warrior, and swallow hard, trying to endure. You can do this, you can do this.
When he steps out of the biting wind and into a sheltered spot, I smother a moan of pure joy. The stranger sets me down, and I almost collapse again. My feet feel like bricks of ice, but I don't complain. He's been carrying me all this time, and there's a crust of ice on his mane and his beard. He helps me straighten, then moves back toward the entrance of the cave, checking to see if anyone is following us.
I tuck my hands under my arms, trying to warm them. They feel like ice, too. A glance at our surroundings shows that the cave we're in isn't much more than a hollow, about as deep as a closet. "Is…is this where we live now? Are we staying here?"
He turns back to me and shakes his head. "We rest. Then we go on. We need to put more distance between us and the others."
Go on? I'm not sure I can. I suspect I might die of exposure before another hour passes. Shivering, I hunch into a crouch on the floor, trying to warm as much skin as possible. I can't complain, though—not to the guy that just carried me through the snow and saved my life. "Thank you," I manage to choke out. "If I haven't said that yet, thank you for saving my life."
The stranger grunts acknowledgment, then glances down at me. He's completely naked except for a small white loincloth that outlines way more than it should and won't be keeping him warm. "I didn't realize humans are so very fragile. The climate bothers you?"
"It doesn't bother you?" I ask through chattering teeth.
"It is unpleasant, but I have been genetically modified to endure such things." He eyes me again. "You have not, it seems."
I manage a small, mirthless laugh. No, it's obvious that I'm suffering. Still, he knows I'm human, which means he's met others. Which means…what, exactly? "Genetically modified? What do you mean by that?"
"I am a splice, a gladiator cross-bred from several different sentient races to provide the most optimal arena fighter."
An arena fighter. "You said you knew these 'games'?"
"I know of them, yes." He watches me shiver, his hands clenching and unclenching, before he turns to glance out the entrance again. "I am Corvak, by the way. It is not a name you would know from the arena rosters. I have yet to win my first battle."
"I'm Aidy," I say. "What kind of sick game is this?"
"One that does not have many winners," Corvak says in a flat voice, constantly surveilling. "But we are going to outsmart them."
I like his optimism. Reaching up to rub my frozen nose, I notice for the first time that there's a delicate bracelet on my wrist, one that I don't recognize.
Corvak's gaze goes to it at the same time mine does. "A tracking device."
I rip it off my arm, fingers trembling, and notice that he pulls one off his wrist, too. "How did we not notice those?"
"You haven't had time to think," he replies. "But those bracelets are going to lead them to us, so now it's time to go."
The urge to whine and protest rises, but I fight it back. He's trying to save both of our lives. I clamp my jaw, willing my teeth to stop clacking together. "Ready."
He grabs my hand, hauls me up over his shoulder, and then we're out in the snow again. He moves quickly and silently, but I can't help the whimper of distress that escapes me as we go back out in the cold air. My teeth chatter, and I shiver harder, because my dress is wet and sticking to my body.
I try to endure. I really do. But each time the cold, brutal wind slices into my skin, it feels like death. My whimpers become cries before long, and I can't stop them. It's too cold.
"Leave me behind," I say to Corvak, tapping his back with frozen fingers. I'm not being dramatic—I truly cannot go further. If dying in the next moment means an end to the frozen torture, I'm all for it. "I'm just slowing you down. Go without me."
"Never." Corvak sounds furious at the thought.
Instead of being flattered, I'm annoyed. "If I want to die, let me die already!"
He tenses under my hips, and his arm tightens around my legs. "No. You're my female, and I want this chance."
What the hell is he talking about? I open my mouth to ask, but another ice-cold gust of wind steals the breath from my lungs. I cry out, and tears roll down my face, only to freeze against my skin, because of course they do. This is hell.