Grace Goodwin - Rogue Cyborg

I didn’t kill on demand.

I didn’t fight or steal on demand.

I didn’t fuck on demand, either.

I owed none but Kronos a shred of loyalty, and even that had come at too high a cost.

I was here, still paying it. I ran my ship fast and hot, avoiding Hive and Coalition forces alike, getting Kronos what he needed from all corners of the galaxy. Until now.

Someone had given the Coalition news of my imminent arrival, and notice of the precious load of transport tech and weapons I’d been carrying. The Coalition’s newest designs, and some illegal rifles manufactured on a non-Coalition world were among my cargo.

Guess it was the rifles that got me into that Coalition brig. And a captive of the Hive. And now, still a prisoner on The Colony, left to rot for decades, work in the mines, and die. The governor, a hard-ass named Maxim, wouldn’t even allow me to leave the surface, go on a single mission off planet. He was afraid I’d escape.

He was right. But nothing he did would stop me. I simply waited for the right set of circumstances to arrive. The plan I’d had in place for weeks.

Despite Governor Rone’s wishes, I refused to take a mate, to be tested for a bride. The truth was my own, my curse. I respected his frustration with me but was unable to comply with his demand that I mate. I just wanted to get back into space and mind my own fucking business. To be free, unchained to anyone or anything.

Taking a mate and leaving her behind? Not possible. The very idea made me growl again, the sound masked by the roar of the spectators as the first fight began and a Prillon in the pit landed a hard blow to his opponent. No, I was a smuggler, a rogue, a rebellious male who refused to follow commands, but I was not without honor. Even if our official claiming wouldn’t physically kill her, I refused to hurt a female’s tender heart in such a way.

A female was not just a huge risk, but a liability I couldn’t afford.

The governor and the rest of the Coalition leadership had decided I was too unstable. Too much of a menace. Rogue 5. Hyperion. Forsian. Cyborg. I was a fucking freak among freaks. And the governor believed only a mate would calm me, anchor me to this planet and their war against the Hive. Ensure my loyalty to the Coalition cause.

But I was not Coalition born. I was Rogue 5. And I truly was a prisoner on this planet. Which made it hard to be grateful. Some days, I would have preferred to be dead, the need to escape making me feel like I was coming out of my skin.

The crowd roared and I turned my attention to the fighting pit once again. The large Prillon warrior was being hauled away unconscious as another stood with his arms raised in sweaty victory. The winner stepped aside and two fresh fighters entered the center of the ring. One, an Atlan I knew well. The other a Prillon warrior who was about to get his head broken.

“Smash him, Tane!” Braun’s bellow was easily heard above the crown and our friend, Tane, looked up briefly and lifted his head in acknowledgement of Braun’s encouragement.

“You cheer for him, but believe his fight is futile?”

Braun was grinning, leaning forward, his gaze glued to the fight as Tane lifted the Prillon over his head and threw him halfway across the fighting grounds. The Prillon rolled to his feet and screamed a challenge in return, the sound echoing off the stands, rushing at the Atlan with cyborg enhanced speed. He scored a solid strike at Tane’s neck, although it barely shook the large Atlan. “Tane will win this fight and Gwen will refuse his claim. Once that is done, he will not protest my attempts to woo her.”

I chuffed out a laugh and stared wide-eyed at my friend. “Woo her? What kind of word is that for a warrior? You sound like an old female.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “That is the word of a warrior who will have the female’s thighs open wide and who will listen to her sweet cries of surrender as her wet pussy rides my cock for hours, draining me dry, taking my seed.”

By the gods, that was too much fucking information. I had no response. I should have been able to cheer for Tane, but the tension in my shoulders and chest moved up into my throat and I couldn’t force myself to speak or move. I could only watch and hate every male here for his ability to claim her. And Braun for his strategy to fucking woo her.

I shouldn’t have come to the pits. Part of me knew watching this was a bad idea. No warrior would ever be worthy of her. Not one on this pathetic prison world. But neither could I bear the idea of not knowing who she would belong to, who would be charged with protecting her. She was an addiction I had been unable to best since her arrival a few weeks ago. My interest in her completely unwanted and impossible. My cock was ruling my mind. I’d had to take it in hand in the shower tube often enough to will it down, but no matter how many times I sought release, my body remained hard and aching. For her.

Leaning back, I crossed my arms and tried to look unaffected as I watched Tane’s fist connect with the Prillon warrior’s jaw, sending him reeling backward into the crowd along the fighting pit’s edges. The shouting warriors seated there propped him up and shoved him back into the center of the pit where Tane delivered another powerful blow. So far, he was besting the Prillon warrior without calling on his beast. The young Prillon male was fighting a losing battle and he knew it, the swagger leaving his step and his shoulders slumping when another warrior, Tyran, stepped between the two combatants.

Tyran was a Prillon warrior and had a human female as his mate. Kristin. He shared her with his second, another warrior named Hunt. She was beautiful, and a warrior in her own right, like Gwen. I did not know how they could allow their female to work on missions hunting the Hive, but Kristin did so every day, part of a special group of warriors led by an Everian Hunter named Kiel.

Unlike the young Prillon fighting Tane, Tyran was rumored to be the strongest cyborg on the planet with implants running not just through parts of his body, but imbedded deeply in both muscle and bone. He was a legend in the pits but had stopped fighting once he was mated. It seemed he had other, more pleasant ways, to ease his anger and aggression.

I envied him the newfound method of release.

Tyran stepped into the center and proclaimed Tane the victor. Braun settled back, more relaxed now that Tyran had arrived. That warrior would not allow things to get too far out of hand, and he was strong enough to handle Tane, even if the Atlan went into beast mode.

“Told you Tane would win.”

“It’s not over yet,” I reminded Braun.

“Yes, it is. He didn’t even use his beast.”

But he would. We both knew he would. “Stupid to challenge an Atlan,” I added, referring to the young Prillon.

“Yes. None but Tyran, or perhaps the Hunter, could defeat one of us.”

One of us. He included me among the Atlan ranks, as always, but I was not one of them. Never could be.

The next two fights went as expected until four warriors remained. Tane, two Prillon warriors, and a male from Trion whose skin shone silver in the afternoon light. I had not met him, but he was rumored to be more machine than man, and his fighting instincts were superb.

Tyran raised his hand, waiting for the crowd of warriors watching to quiet. “Here are the remaining four. Chance will decide their fates.” Tyran held out a deck of cards, face down. “Highest values will fight first.”

The crowd cheered again as the warriors each drew a card and lifted it into the air. The two Prillon warriors would face off against each other first. Then Tane would fight the male from Trion. After that, they would be down to two and the champion would be the last male standing.