12
Gril rolled to his side and silently counted the stars becoming visible in the sky. He realized after a while that some of them weren’t in the sky—they were bright spots floating before his eyes due to the pain of having his balls delivered into his throat. Goddess, but he’d be lucky if he could ever sire another egg after the blow he’d just received.
“Warriors do not knee other warriors in their ball sacks,” he hissed to the stars.
He released his groin and wiped at the tear sliding down from the corner of his eye. Gazing up at the stars, he continued to breathe evenly until the pain finally subsided. He gingerly sat up and leaned forward.
In the last three days, he had crashed his fighter, discovered that he had been sabotaged, almost been blown up, felt like he was being burned a
