Click.
Kael stepped into the luxurious study of the arena. His arms had already been fully healed, the arena's healer having treated the swelling and damage from the fight.
The room stood in stark contrast to the bloodstained sand outside.
He had come here to meet the master of the arena—Andrew Ramsey.
A nobleman of the region, entrusted with overseeing the millennia-old arena, a place that existed to satisfy the people's endless hunger for so-called entertainment by watching massive brutes battle one another to the death.
"I see you have come, my boy."
The voice reached Kael the moment he entered.
He looked toward the far window, where the man stood with his back partly turned, gazing down at the arena below. Another match had already begun, and the crowd outside roared as fresh gladiators fought in the pit.
"Kael greets Master."
Kael spoke calmly, bringing his hands together as he offered a respectful salute. He inclined his upper body slightly, bowing his head.
Andrew Ramsey shifted a little, turning halfway toward him.
"Good. I like your manners. Now sit down on that cushion."
He gestured with the long stem of his smoking pipe toward a cushion placed across the room. Taking another slow whiff from the pipe, he walked back toward his seat and settled behind a large, luxurious desk with careful, practiced grace.
Once seated comfortably, he rested his elbows upon the desk and looked at Kael.
"So, how do you feel, my boy?" he asked.
"You have finally won the freedom that you desired so much. Do you have any words to say to this master of yours?"
Kael couldn't help the slight twitch that passed through his eyes when he heard that, though he kept his expression under control. Still, if he could truly leave this place, then a few polite words were nothing. Compared to freedom, swallowing a little pride meant nothing.
He opened his mouth.
"I want to express—"
"Okay, let's talk about what you will get."
Andrew cut him off without even acknowledging that Kael had begun speaking.
Kael stopped immediately.
In that brief moment, he understood exactly the kind of man Andrew Ramsey was.
What a motherfucking bastard.
The thought flashed through his mind, but his face remained calm and respectful as he waited for his so-called master to continue.
"You have two choices," Andrew said casually. "I will grant you two wishes to choose from. You may pick only one, my boy."
As he spoke, he rang the small bell resting on his desk.
A moment later, the study door opened.
A slender, beautiful woman stepped inside. Her figure was graceful, with soft curves at the right places, and she wore clothing that left very little to the imagination. The fabric clung to her body in a way that made every movement appear slow and deliberate.
She walked forward with a sensual sway in her hips.
Reaching Kael, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, her fingers brushing against him as she leaned closer.
"Oh, if this isn't my Dark Prince."
Her voice carried a teasing warmth as she leaned forward and casually settled onto his lap.
Kael's eyebrow lifted slightly.
His gaze shifted toward Andrew.
The arena master was watching him with a knowing smile.
"Well," Andrew said leisurely, "your first wish is to spend a night with the beautiful lady currently sitting on your lap. She is this year's most popular escort from the Red Valley Tavern."
He tapped the pipe lightly against the desk as he continued.
"She knows four hundred and twenty different positions to satisfy any man. Don't worry—I've tried it myself, and they're amazing, so you have my guarantee."
Andrew spoke the last part as if he were offering an extremely important recommendation.
Meanwhile, Kael's mind was spinning with question marks.
What the fuck is going on?
He genuinely couldn't understand what the man was even talking about.
And 420 different positions? Most popular escort?
Doesn't that just mean this woman is a cheap whore?
Kael glanced at the woman sitting on his lap. She was undeniably beautiful, but up close he could smell the mingled sweat of countless men clinging faintly to her skin.
The sensation made his stomach tighten.
He wanted nothing more than to get away from this uncomfortable situation.
"Master, we—"
"As for your second wish is… well, you will become free from this arena. Now make a choic—"
Andrew interrupted him again.
But this time Kael moved faster.
Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Kael had already pushed the woman gently to the side and risen to his feet.
"Being free from this arena, Master."
He stood straight, almost like a soldier delivering a formal response.
Andrew looked at him for a moment.
Then he smiled and slowly stood up from behind his desk.
"Good. Very good choice," he said.
"Being free from this place will allow you to have as many women as you want. But the chance to be free… that chance only comes after you win a war."
Andrew spoke the words with dramatic calm as he stepped closer, stopping directly in front of Kael. For a moment their eyes met at the same level.
Then Andrew turned away.
"But you see, my boy…"
Something shifted behind Kael.
A sudden movement.
It came from the woman.
By the time Kael reacted, it was already too late.
She moved with shocking speed. In an instant, something snapped around his neck.
Kael froze.
His hands shot up immediately, grabbing at the object now clamped tightly around his throat.
The woman stepped forward again, her lips curling into a faint smile as her fingers brushed lightly along his jaw.
"Well, would you look at that," she murmured.
"Another beautiful slave."
Her tone carried a mocking sweetness.
"Too bad I won't be spending the night with you now… since you're about to be sold to someone else."
Andrew leaned back into his chair and looked at Kael, who stared at him in shock, clearly demanding an explanation without saying a word.
Seeing that expression, Andrew chuckled.
"My boy, everyone is hustling in this world, you see," he said casually. "First, I show the people how you gladiators fight and earn money from the spectacle. Then, after you reach your peak worth, I sell you to wealthy buyers to make ends meet. After all, this huge arena isn't going to run itself, is it?"
He laughed as if the whole matter were perfectly ordinary.
Kael, meanwhile, felt the tight metal ring around his neck pressing against his throat. The moment he tried to curse Andrew, the collar tightened painfully. When he forced himself to calm down, the pressure loosened again.
Understanding dawned on him.
This bastard had placed some kind of slave collar on him—some twisted fantasy device—and if he openly rebelled, it would likely strangle him to death.
Realizing that, Kael's gaze shifted to the woman, who was now leaning casually against Andrew's desk with her hips resting against it.
A flare of anger rose in his chest when he looked at her.
But she only smiled at him.
"Oh, don't look so angry, Prince. It's just business," she said lightly. "And if you think I'm some cheap whore, you're mistaken. I'm an exclusive one."
She blew him a playful kiss.
The gesture only made Kael angrier.
Andrew waved a hand dismissively.
"Alright, you may go now. And make sure you don't say anything about our little business here to anyone. In a few weeks, there will be a large auction. That's where you'll meet your new master."
He shooed Kael away with a flick of his hand. At the same time, he pulled the woman closer by the waist. She laughed softly as she dropped onto his lap.
The moment Kael's anger flared again, the collar around his neck tightened once more.
Fuck.
Feeling the pressure return, Kael quickly turned and walked out of the study. The moment he stepped outside, the collar loosened again, and he released a slow breath of relief.
Behind the closed door, he could still hear their laughter.
Kael stood there for a moment, then sighed heavily at his own misfortune.
Yeah… it definitely wasn't going to be that easy.
Fuck.
The curse slipped through his thoughts as he began walking back toward his quarters, keeping his head slightly lowered, doing his best to hide the collar around his neck from anyone who might see it.
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