He pushed his face against the bars and pulled Larsson toward him, pressing his lips to Larsson’s, trying desperately to put all of his emotions, everything he was feeling into that one kiss. They were both breathless when he pulled back and whispered to him.

“I promise you I’ll do everything I can to get you out of this.Then I’ll take you home or wherever you want to go. If you still want me as your mate, I’ll do that too. I’ll do anything— anything to make this up to you.”

Larsson finally gave him the sweet smile he’d been hoping for. “Who are you and what have you done with Tarr Bonnet?” he asked with a grin.

Tarr huffed out a laugh and kissed him again hungrily.“I mean it, sweetheart. I’ll get you out of this, I swear.”

A loud voice from the door startled Tarr and made him let go of Larsson’s face.

“What’s taking so long in here?” Standing in the doorway was Rabb Seneca’s brother, Ranon. He must have come to check on his human.

Tarr stood up and faced him angrily.“Who are you yelling at? I’m spending time with my nobyo and trying to comfort him after your stupid thugs had their filthy hands on him. Watch yourself, Ranon Seneca or else when I finish off your brother,I’ll come after you! I’m no little human you can boss around and pretend to be a big man with.You’ll find yourself bent over my knee out there in the ring with the flat of my sword across your ass.”

Ranon’s mouth dropped open and he made a choking noise as he bit back whatever words he wanted to say. He contented himself with one more murderous look as he pulled his nobyo furiously away and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

Tarr knelt back down beside Larsson, who was doubled over in laughter. “That was fun. Are you really that good in the ring or do I have to worry about them hurting you now too?”

“I’m good enough to beat these fools.They’ve never been trained by real warriors like I was.”

“But they’re a little younger than you.”

Tarr shot Larsson a wounded glance, and Larsson smiled at him with affection.“Not nearly so pretty, of course, but maybe a few years younger.”

“It’s not age that counts.It’s skill, finesse, courage!”

“Yes, yes…but you’ll still be careful, won’t you? If my wolf sees them hurt you, you know I’ll shift right there in the ring. They’ll have to kill both of us.”

“I know, baby, but let’s hope it won’t come to that.” He squeezed his hand through the bars and stood up.I’ll leave now and let you rest. If it’s any consolation, I’ll be sleeping on the floor of an old shack myself.I’ll probably toss and turn all night on the hard floor.”

Larsson nodded.“Thanks.That does help a little.” He smiled up at Tarr.“See you tomorrow. We’ll get out of this, one way or the other.”

“One way or the other,” Tarr agreed, and the words rang in the small room like a solemn vow.

“Holy hells, is that you over th ere, Tarr Bonnet? What the fuck are you doing here, boy? You’re about the last person I would’ve expected to see.”

The loud, familiar voice jarred Tarr from a restless sleep. He opened his eyes to peer through the dimness of the shack lit only by a small lantern and up into the beaming face of his old friend, Robosium Jex.

Jex was a Nilanium trader and had been a good friend of Tarr’s for years. Tarr had been instrumental in getting the Tygerian government to grant asylum to the Nilaniums a few years before, and Jex had been the Nilanium go-between. Jex was a trader, like many of the Nilaniums, also commonly known as the Rogers. Insteadof piracy, however, he’d decided, like many of the older Nilaniums, to become traders and voyagers—even something of a diplomat for his people after their home planet was destroyed.

Jex had been the man responsible for spiriting Kyle Balenescu off Tygeria and back to his family when Tarr had been captured by them and threatened. Jex had taken Tarr back home to Tygeria.

Knowinghe’d have to leave Tygeria for good after helping Kyle get away from Taz, however, he’d told Kyle that ‘A permanent home is not for me, anyway. Life here on Tygeria is making me soft. I’d rather be traveling through space, I suppose, like my people have done for centuries.’

Taz had relayed the information to him only a few days before he’d gone back after Larsson. As soon as he’d picked Larsson up, he’d had plans to find Jex, thank him for his help, and assure him of Taz’s good will, so he could come back home if he wanted to. Knowing Jex the way he did, however, he knew he probably preferred his rambles through the galaxies and his estrangement from Tygeria was only a convenient excuse.

Jex enjoyed his trade routes, and had regular stops all through the galaxies. As he stood over Tarr with an armful of blankets and pillows, Tarr realized that Jex must be the trader the Ravnians had been expecting.

“Robosium Jex—I can’t believeit! I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my entire life! How the hells are you?” Tarr jumped up and enveloped the trader in a huge bear hug that took the little man off his feet and caused the blankets and pillows in his arms to tumble to the floor. Heheld him at arm’s length and grinned at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I trade with the Ravnians—they’ve been my customers for years. Whenever I arrive, they give me this little house to sleep in, but this time they told me I’d have to share it with another visitor. When I saw that it was you, I couldn’t believe it.”

Tarr bent over to help him gather his blankets and pillows. “I see that you’re a much more honored guest than I am,” he said, smiling. “Theygave you pillows.”

“But how did you come to be here, Tarr? Like this?Where’s your ship? And your men?”

“We wrecked here,” Tarr said, plopping back down on the floor and propping up on one of Jex’s pillows.“Or at least most of us did. I lost a few men in the explosions, but most of us landed here on this moon with the shuttles.Now they’re holding my men against their will and refuse to let them go. They claim them as salvaged property and say they want the young ones for their nobyos.”

Jex shook his head in disbelief.“They’ve always been hard to deal with, but I’ve never heard of them doing anything like this before. Youknow I’ll help you any way I can—what do you need me to do?”

Tarr grinned at him.“A lot of it depends on how well I fight in the Games tomorrow. If things go as planned, I’ll need you on your ship, ready to get us the hellsout of here.”

“I can do that,” Jex said with an answering grin. “My crew can guard your rear when you take off out of here back to my ship too. We never comeunarmed to a world like this.” He pulled a small disruptor from his boot.“You might be able to use this if things don’t go well for you tomorrow.”

Tarr laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.“Things are looking up already.”

Blinded by the harsh sunlight, Larsson stumbled out into the ring, pushed roughly from behind by one of the Ravnians. He turned and snarled at him, but saved his strength for what was to come. He might need it. He could see the Ravnians, some fifty or sixty of them, ringed around the clearing surrounded by a stone wall that was perhaps eight feet tall, and topped by bleacherlike stands that were dotted here and there around the wall. This was the place where their socalled Games were to be played. He had been stripped naked again, like all the other survivors of what had been Tarr’s crew.

There were six of them in all, two having been rejected by the Ravnians as too old to be good love slaves. The huge Ravnian guards pushed the men into the dusty ring and made them walk around it a couple of times before herding them over to the side and lining them up against the warm stone wall. Two large Ravnians came toward Larsson and jerked his arms around behind his back before they wrapped ropes around his wrists, then secured the ropes to his ankles. They knew, then, that he was capable of great damage to them if he shifted, and they were trying to prevent it. The ropes would barely even slow him down, especially if his mate was in danger.

He was almost equal parts furious and frightened. Not for himself —he knew he couldn’t take all the Ravnians if he decided to shift, and they’d eventually kill him, but he also knew he’d take a few of them with him. No, he was frightened for his mate, even though he badly wanted to hurt him at the same time. They were in this stupid mess because of Tarr, and if they survived it, he was never going to let him forget it. He’d be making this up to him for a very long time.

He saw Tarr enter with the other Ravnians. The stupid bastard looked as effortlessly gorgeous and sexy as he always did, and even though the Ravnians were posturing and posing as they walked in, Larsson couldn’t see how anyone could keep their gaze off Tarr Bonnet. They were all dressed in gladiator-style gear, which consisted of tight animal skin leggings and boots with a loincloth and a vest over their naked chests. Each of them carried several weapons, all of which looked deadly to Larsson. Tarr was carrying a thick length of chain, a kind of club with a stone end and a short, lethal-looking sword.

Larsson’s eyes searched for Rabb and found him at the back of the line, probably so he could make a grand entrance. He carried the exact same weapons as Tarr, and Larsson wondered if their weapons matched because they would be fighting each other.

Two at a time, the Ravnian warriors stepped forward to face each other. They first paraded around in front of the crowd, their friends and family calling out to them as they held up their weapons and played to their audience.

Within minutes, though, they paired off and the first two stepped out in the arena and turned to face each other. One of the Ravnians stood up in the stands and called out what Larsson presumed to be their names. He rattled off a lot of other words in the archaic Tygerian language they spoke and the crowd cheered.

The first two warriors began fighting viciously, sometimes rolling around in the dirt of the arena, sometimes standing still and whaling away at each other with their clubs. Each of them carried a small round shield made of some metallic substance, but the stone clubs battered and dented them easily. Eventually, one of the warriors got the upper hand and the other bowed down on one knee and yelledout a word that sounded like “Viconus.” Larsson could only imagine that it meant they yielded.