On one of the two bunks was Ar’Tok, a pale alien also described as a gladiator. His eyes flicked to me and then he busied himself studying the floor.
More terrifying and intimidating than either of the huge, muscled gladiators, though, was the furred beast who didn’t have the good manners to hide in the corner. It was a dog bigger than anything I’d ever seen on Earth, at least half again as large as a Saint Bernard. His body was brindle, chocolate, and auburn. There was something almost leonine about him because of the way his wild auburn mane haloed his face.
I’m not certain what scared me more, his size, his two-inch-long fangs, or the four-inch spikes on his metal collar.
My hands trembled and my eyes bulged as the animal approached me. Standing, his head almost came up to my shoulder.
He seemed intent on coming closer, and I backed as far from him as I could, my back slamming into the barred metal door. With nowhere to go, I stood paralyzed as he shambled toward me.
“No!” I said with my palm raised toward him. My mouth was so dry the word came out as no more than a breath.
He immediately dropped to the floor, then crawled on his belly the rest of the way so as not to frighten me. He nudged his soft, wet nose under my open palm, wanting me to pet him. His luminous golden eyes spoke wordlessly to me, and the second time he prodded me, I obliged. We’ve been inseparable ever since.
I didn’t know what to call him, and he was in a cell with two gladiators. The ferocious teeth and spiked collar made me wonder if he was bred to fight in the arena like my two humanoid companions. I called him WarDog and the name stuck.
I’ve always had a love of animals. It started before I was old enough to join the FFA, Future Farmers of America. After I became a member, they taught me animal husbandry and agriculture.
I loved all of it, the gardening, canning, and animal management, but at some point I decided I wanted to be a vet. The problem was I believed I wasn’t smart enough. I’d never been great at school and figured I was destined to have a menial job. It wasn’t until my senior year in high school that I was diagnosed with dyslexia.
I’m still a slow reader, the diagnosis didn’t fix that, but I realized I wasn’t stupid. I really could do anything I wanted with my life, which is what my mom told me a million times before she died.
Since high school, I worked at a vet’s office, and at nights I relearned all the stuff I should have learned in high school. I was just about to apply to college when the Urluts decided I should get an all-expense-paid trip to outer space.
WarDog eases his humongous body up onto my bed an inch at a time, then his giant tongue gives my cheek a dainty kiss. I swear, he thinks he’s a lap dog. He also thinks I’m stupid and don’t notice he’s encroaching on my territory. How do you tell a two-hundred-pound canine he’s relegated to the floor? I haven't figured that one out yet.
“All right, big guy. Kisses it is.”
Chapter Two
Willa
It’s WarDog’s favorite morning routine. He delicately slurps me with his huge tongue, and I furrow my fingers through his thick ruff until they reach his warm skin. He loves the gentle scratch of my nails and especially loves my happy voice when I talk to him.
“Yeah, WarDog. He’s a good boy. He deserves pets and kisses,” I croon to him.
When we’ve both had our fill, I kiss his nose one more time and roll out of bed. After I shower and dress, we head to the kitchen where I’ll help Maddie the cook prepare breakfast for the Mongol hordes.
Alright, they’re not exactly Mongols, or a horde, but you'd never know it by their appetites.
Oh shit. I almost skid to a stop when I notice everyone is already in the dining room. Everyone. It takes my brain less than a second to remember why they’re all here this early. The match.
We must have docked in the middle of the night last night. I was too preoccupied with my sexy dream—that was a first, I don’t think I ever had one that explicit before—to recall we’re on Aeon II for Stryker’s match.
WarDog and I hurry to the kitchen, but Maddie isn’t here. Furred, feline Captain Zar’s mate, Anya, and Callista who’s in charge of comms, are cooking. My belly squeezes in guilt—they definitely could have used my help this morning.
Maddie is Stryker’s . . . I’m not sure what she is. They’re not one of the mated couples like Anya and Zar or former-gladiator Shadow and his adorable mate Petra who has more sass inch for inch than anyone I’ve ever met. Maddie and Stryker share cabins from time to time, and from what I can tell, Stryker would like it to be more permanent.
Even if they’re not mates, Maddie clearly has feelings for him, so I’m sure she’s a ball of nerves knowing he’s going to fight today.
“Sorry. Sorry,” I tell Anya and Callista. “I never oversleep. I don’t know why—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Anya says as she flips pancakes on a griddle, “we’ve got it covered. Why don’t you take a day off, too?”
I protest, but when they insist, I grab a few pancakes for me and a stack for WarDog, return to the dining room, and slide in next to Aerie. Since we arrived on
