Born of Defiance

“Why don’t you call your female back for me and let me show her what it’s like to screw a real male? One with lineage.”


Talyn clenched his fists at his side. No other officer would have to tolerate this from the colonel. But he had no one to appeal to. If he tried to report Anatole, it would only get worse for him.

Or, worst case scenario, it might rebound and harm his mother and her rank.

“What? Does that make you angry, mongrel? You dare look at me with rage in your eyes?”

Talyn quickly averted his gaze.

“Go on, dog. Call your whore. I’ll even let you watch her suck my dick.”

When he didn’t pull his link out, the colonel arched a brow. “Are you refusing a direct order?”

“I can’t order a civ, sir. If you want your cock sucked, guess I’ll have to do it.”

The colonel backhanded him.

Talyn didn’t budge. Honestly? His mother hit harder.

What it did do, though, was make him yearn for the day Anatole’s testicles descended and the bastard found enough backbone to face him like a true Andarion.

In the Ring.

Warrior to warrior.

“You think you’re something special? Iron Hammer,” he sneered. “I’ve got a year’s salary riding on your opponent tomorrow night. What say we start your training early? Huh? Let’s get you seasoned for your opponent. Report to the Ring. Immediately.”

“Yes, sir. Looking forward to the day when you’re Andarion enough to join me there.”

That had the desired effect. Anatole’s eyes flared with hatred. “Insubordination, Major?”

You think? But Talyn wasn’t quite stupid enough to say that out loud. “No, sir. Just thinking that it might do the morale good to see one of our leaders in the Ring.” Talyn saluted him and headed for the company gym. And with every step he took, he knew what would be waiting.

What forever waited for him there.

Because the odds were with Talyn winning, Anatole always bet against him, hoping for a bigger payout. But Talyn couldn’t throw a fight. It would literally mean his life if he did.

So the colonel handicapped him. Or so he thought.

What the idiot couldn’t figure out was that these meager little fights didn’t hurt Talyn.

At all.

Andarion soldiers, while fierce, were not the same caliber as a pro Ring fighter. Vested brats, they’d never had to walk into an Open Ring and really fight for their lives. Never had to stand strong in a world determined to kill them.

Long ago, Talyn had learned to find pleasure in pain. And in true Andarion War Hauk fashion, fights invigorated him. Made him stronger. More determined. Nothing lit a fire in his ass quicker than someone trying to hold him back or beat him down.

Bring it with everything you have, bitch.

Nothing and no one would ever get the best of him.

As he went to dress out, his thoughts turned to Felicia and her gentle kindness during lunch.

She wanted to see him again. That thought warmed him in spite of his foul mood.

While he had a warrior’s heart, she did bring an unfathomable peace to his soul. If he had to get his ass kicked, he couldn’t think of a better reason than to protect her from bastards like his CO.

Best of all, she didn’t appear to look at him like other Andarions did. Sometimes, she even seemed to enjoy his company. That was all he wanted in this life. Someone who could be with him and not resent or hate him for a birth he couldn’t help.

But first he had to deal with Anatole and whatever Vested moron thought he could beat down the Iron Hammer.

Irritated by the bullshit, Talyn ground his teeth. Yes, he’d changed one thing in his life by bringing Felicia into it. But so far, everything else he’d tried had failed.

There has to be another way out of this.

Some way to get Anatole and the rest of them off his back. Yeah, kill the bastard.

Simple.

The trick was to get Anatole into that Ring and unleash all the hatred Talyn kept locked inside himself. Yet so far, Anatole had wisely refused.

One day, though…

He was going to find Anatole’s weakness, and when he did, he planned to hand-deliver Anatole’s soul to their gods.





Chapter 3





“R

eporters aren’t allowed back here. You’ll have —”

“It’s okay, Erix. She’s with me.”

Felicia looked past the huge, fierce bald male in front of her to see Talyn sitting on a dilapidated bench in the run-down dressing room. This was so not what she’d envisioned for a champion’s prefight area.

Her smile faded as she realized the other male with him was in the process of covering horrible bruises on Talyn’s body. “Did I miss the fight? I thought it didn’t start for another half hour.”

A tic started in Erix’s jaw as he returned to Talyn’s side to wrap his hands so that Talyn couldn’t use his claws in the fight to scar his opponent. “It doesn’t. This is from his CO.”

Felicia scowled. “I don’t understand.”

Talyn laughed wryly. “Anatole bets against me.”

“And has his bastard goons beat the shit out of the boy whenever he has a fight coming, to handicap him.”