by Ophelia Bell
Now Simina sat in the comfortable arena-side section reserved for families of the teams, with a very pregnant Pomona in the seat beside her. Their friends Nessa and Gaius were in the next section over, wrangling a pair of squirming twin toddlers into their own seats.
“This should be good,” Pomona said, settling in. “After last year, I imagine your boys are ready to prove themselves. Bry and Ig won’t make it any easier on them, you know.”
“Oh, I’m sure they don’t want anything made easy,” Simina said. “They’re dead set on proving they’re the best. If they can’t beat a duo, they’ll be impossible to live with.” She leaned back in her seat, rubbing her hands gently over her own protruding belly, gratified by the tiny kick she received from the current resident.
She and Pomona were both fully aware that they were props in the promotional stunt. Five popular champions with only two very pregnant mates between them were a curiosity. Hot Wings and their beautiful mate were already Aurora’s sweethearts after the duo’s public announcement of their mating over a year earlier.
Making Simina’s relationship with the trio public for the first time was designed to engender even more goodwill toward the League in general. Everybody loved to hear when celebrities who were virtual royalty had babies, and the occurrence was rare enough in the League world since champions tended to remain single for their entire careers.
The arena vibrated when the teams were announced. First, the defending champions of the exhibition match came to the center. Ignazio and Bryer waved to the crowd, turning and grinning to the cameras that floated around their heads. Their images were blasted larger than life on the huge screen at the far end of the arena. Beside her, Pomona sighed, her big smile making her already glowing features positively luminous.
The pretty chef winced imperceptibly and pressed her hand tighter to her belly. “Ooh. Baby dragon’s getting excited about his papas fighting today. Guess we ought to stand up, huh?”
Simina pushed herself out of her seat and reached down to help the more pregnant human woman stand. Pomona let out a slow breath and nodded her thanks. “I don’t know about you, but I am so ready for this baby to come out.”
“I’m definitely ready to meet my daughter, too,” Simina agreed, patting her own belly. “So are her fathers.”
They both redirected their attention to the arena in time to see their own faces on the giant screen, the announcers giving a brief summary of their relationship to today’s combatants to the sound of enthusiastic cheers. Then the spotlights and cameras shifted to the other side of the arena and Simina’s heart skipped a beat as her three mates appeared.
“Triple Talons, the up and coming trio of young champions has returned for a rematch!” the announcer was saying. “Wearing the colors of the late, great Ebon Claw, rumor has it that they have tapped into some of the Claw’s own arena magic. Today is their chance to prove they have what it takes to fight with the big boys!”
She’d never had the honor of viewing a match from this spot, despite being in a committed relationship with a highly revered champion. It had never bothered her that she had watched Talon’s matches from a less privileged vantage. She knew what she meant to him, and didn’t require a status symbol to prove it. But now that she was here, with their marks etched into her skin and their offspring in her womb, she realized exactly what she’d missed.
They waved at the camera and blew kisses from the big screen. It was only when she aimed her gaze directly at them rather than the screen that she realized all three were looking only at her. She lifted her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss right back, grinning at them, then mouthed the words “good luck.”
All three shifted focus as a unit, their gazes hardening as their attention moved to their opponents. Then they squared off in formation, with Dez and Cato facing Ignazio and Bryer directly, and Veryl’s bigger, bulkier, defender frame standing centered behind his teammates.
The very second the referee’s screeching falcon cry sounded, they were on each other. Battle cries resonated through the arena, wings manifested, talons came out, and the crowd went wild.
Simina’s breath caught in her throat watching the precision of movements of both teams. It was as though they’d choreographed some elaborate dance performed to the rhythm of her heartbeat and the rumble of the fans who began chanting for their favorite team.
She’d missed the adrenaline rush of being this close to such perfectly trained fighting machines. There was a reason Talon had commissioned a sturdy bed be built for their bedroom. The nights after a match were beyond compare. Her dragon roared her elation, and Simina’s core heated at the prospect of the evening she had in store after her mates won this match.
Because within moments the tables turned, and it was clear from the sheer effort the Hot Wings duo was making to keep up with the trio that it wouldn’t be much longer.
“Oh, shit,” Pomona blurted.
“I know. They’re kicking ass,” Simina said, unable to tear her eyes off the escalating conflict. Every attempt the Hot Wings duo made to break through Triple Talons’ defenses was deftly deflected, either by agility or sheer force. Her mates had yet to go completely on the offensive, but they were ready, and through her link to them, she knew they weren’t going to hold back.
“No, I don’t mean them! Simina … Doctor Taji … Oh!”
The panic in Pomona’s voice took a second to register. Simina shot a startled look at the other woman. Pomona’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide, and both hands were pressed tight to her belly.
“You’re in labor! Oh shit, honey, why didn’t you say something?”
“Couldn’t … catch a … breath …” Pomona groaned and pushed back into her seat. At the same moment, a wash of fluid flooded down her legs.
Simina lost track of the match as she shifted her focus completely on her friend’s distress. Retrieving her handheld medical scanner from her bag, she did a quick overview of Pomona’s condition. Nothing to worry about—shifters and humans had been mating for generations already, and this delivery appeared to be just like any other, aside from the unconventional location. But babies didn’t exactly allow for predictability sometimes. When they were ready, they were ready.
“Your wish is about to come true, Pomona,” she said, smiling up at the woman. She quickly keyed in a message to the League Institute to send a medical transport, then helped Pomona down to the carpeted area in front of their seats. With her jacket bundled under the woman’s head, she moved to Pomona’s feet and readied her to deliver her baby.
The noises of the crowd drowned out the laboring woman’s cries, but it wasn’t enough to hide her distress from her mates. Simina wasn’t quite sure what had transpired in the arena, but when Bryer and Ignazio rushed over to their mate’s side, she didn’t have time to ask. Their son was coming, and he wasn’t going to wait for them to finish fighting.
Pomona’s contractions eased just long enough for her to smile up at the two men who had positioned themselves on their knees at her shoulders. They propped her up and grabbed her hands, holding tight when the next wave hit.
“Time to push, honey,” Simina said.
Everything else happened in a blur, Simina’s training taking over as she gave commands to the mother and the people around her. She was peripherally aware of Nessa swooping in with baby blankets at the ready, and Javin joining her mates in making sure the crowd kept back. The cameras hovered overhead so the crowd was appeased being able to watch the whole event unfold on the huge screens.
Finally the baby slipped free of his mother’s womb, letting out a ferocious cry as his tiny lungs took their first big breath. Simina gathered him into a blanket and cleaned him up, then delicately placed him on his mother’s chest. Pomona grinned through her tears, laughing and sobbing at the same time. Bryer and Ignazio were no less emotional, tenderly placing big hands over Pomona’s on the little boy’s back.
Three big bodies hovered near her and Simina’s mates squatted d
own, marveling at the sight. They rested big hands on her back, their awe and excitement palpable through their link.
Simina smiled broadly at their three friends and said, “Congratulations, it’s a champion!”
Midnight Star
Aurora Champions Book Four
1
Astra
Sweat stung Astra’s eyes and the sun glared down from above the arena. She pivoted on her heel, her enormous black wings outstretched to aid her balance as she sought out her opponent. The glimmer of a shadow beyond one of the obstacles betrayed the panther shifter’s position, and she withdrew her wings, rolling to the ground and behind another obstacle. Two could play the stealth game.
Closing her eyes, she commanded her dragon’s other senses into high alert, scenting the feline’s telltale odor. Something more acrid and foul filled her nostrils along with it, making her blanch, but it served to lead her in for the kill.
She spied a tail first, which quickly disappeared, merging with the other champion’s lithe body with the power of a thought. But it was too late. Astra had her quarry in her sights and was leaping before the other champion could react. She only needed one more point and the championship was hers.
Her battle cry ripped the air and her opponent spun, the woman’s eyes wide with shock, but it was too late. Astra’s opponent managed one swing with sharp claws before Astra’s knee connected with her chest, knocking her flat on her back. The claws sank into Astra’s inner thigh, straight through her skintight body armor. Pain lanced through her, but the crowd was already on its feet, roaring with excitement over the win.
Astra didn’t have time to wonder how in the hell the panther’s claws could have breached the nearly impervious mesh of her armor. She had won yet another championship and had to stand in the in the winner’s circle at the edge of the arena and take her victory bow.
Ignoring the injury that bled down her thigh, she jogged to the center of the arena, arms outstretched, reveling in the chants that rose into the air. “Midnight Star, Midnight Star,” the fans cried as she blew them kisses and spun around.
But as much as the fans meant to her, there was only one person who she ever dedicated her wins to. “This is for you, Talon,” she whispered. “They’re all for you, brother.”
Her manager and coach rushed her after a moment.
“What the hell, Astra, you’re bleeding!” her coach yelled over the roar of the crowd.
“It’s nothing,” Astra said. “Lucky hit is all. It didn’t affect my win. Even if it counted, she was too far behind in points for it to matter.”
“That’s not the goddamn point and you know it,” her coach snapped. “Nothing can breach champion armor.”
“No time to worry about it now,” Astra said, already pushing through toward the winner’s circle, where she’d receive her trophy and pose for photos. A contingent of Nova Aurora’s news reporters was standing behind the rope, already chomping at the bit to interview her.
She was the arena league’s rising star, had come out of the ashes of her brother’s sudden death and risen up the ranks in the women’s solo bracket. She’d gone from living in the shadow of the Ebon Claw to having one of the most brilliant careers of any female champion, and only in the span of a couple years. She wasn’t about to let her fans see her falter now, nor the collection of close friends who stood to the side cheering her on.
Standing among the bright lights of the cameras, she held her trophy high, reveling in the cheers. The globe-shaped trophy glinted in the sunlight, the camera flashes reflecting off it straight into her eyes.
Each flash spiked straight into her head, making her wince with a pain that rivaled the throbbing in her thigh. She wavered, the world wobbling beneath her, and widened her stance. She’d been at the top of her game only moments ago. How the hell could she feel so weak now?
That strange, acrid odor hit her nostrils again and she glanced up, looking straight into the dark eyes of her panther-shifter opponent. The other champion sneered at her, sharp claws still extended from the tips of her fingers, the points shining with luminescent fluid. Astra’s nostrils flared as a terrifying memory surged through her mind. That scent was familiar, and it wasn’t the feline shifter’s native odor. That was the substance she’d smelled the day of her brother’s deadly final match. The foul-scented poison had coated his opponent’s claws and teeth, dripping from his mouth in thick, viscous saliva.
White rage flared unbidden and her dragon roared, surging to the surface before Astra could rein her in. She lurched toward the other champion, talons already extended and aiming for her throat.
Three sets of big hands grabbed her, pulling her back when she was inches from ripping the other woman’s throat out. Astra went to the ground, the familiar faces of the Triple Talons team hovering over her.
“Fucking hell,” Cato blurted. “Do you guys smell that? Astra, you’ve been hit by the toxin. We’re going to get you to the medical center. Just hang in there. You guys get the fucking bitch who did this!”
As her friends and arena security sprang into action, she lay there, half shifted and unable to speak, her mind spinning. Her body wasn’t cooperating, and neither was her dragon. Her synchronized link she had trained her entire life to form had been severed from the beast that made her who she was.
“Please no,” she begged, staring up into grim faces that flickered and faded into blackness.
2
Astra
Astra woke to the low hum of medical equipment and the scent of antiseptic. She was alive, which was some relief, but a painful void lurked inside her gut. Her link to her dragon should have rested in that place, but it was gone. The cold blackness quickly filled with hot anger and she clenched her fists into the soft blanket that covered her.
“Javin, she’s waking up,” came a familiar female voice. Footsteps rushed close and Astra cracked her eyelids, teeth clenched and nostrils flaring with the effort to keep her emotions in check. It was bad enough that she’d been laid low by the toxin that had killed her brother, but to have the two people closest to her here to bear witness? That was too much.
“Leave,” she grated when the two figures drew close.
“Astra, sweetie, you’re going to be okay.”
She opened her eyes and glared at the other woman. “Simina,” she said in a warning tone. “I am not going to be okay. You of all people should know.”
Just as stubborn as ever, Simina ignored her. “We need to check your wound, see if your dragon’s healed it.” She reached for the covers and Astra smacked her hand away.
“It hasn’t. My dragon’s gone, Simina. Why is my dragon gone? I took the fucking counteragent, just like all the other champions. You promised it would protect us from the toxin. Now look at me!” She tore the covers back and yanked the hem of her gown up to display the bandage that covered the inside of her upper thigh. Black tendrils snaked out from the wound beneath, and that acrid odor hit her nostrils.
Simina flinched and Javin scowled, moving to Simina’s side. He took the tablet out of her hands and gave her a slight nod. “Go check on her test results, Dr. Taji. Let me have a moment alone with the patient.”
The patient. Astra gritted her teeth. Was that all she was to him now? For her entire life, Javin Traore had never seen her. She’d always just been “Talon’s little sister.” Even after she’d won multiple league championships, well on her way to matching her brother’s record, she’d still been the sibling Javin swore to look after as if she were his own sister. Now she was just the patient.
“You can get the fuck out too,” she snapped.
“Simina didn’t deserve that.” Javin pulled up a chair and sat as if he had no better place to be. “You know what she went through.”
“She isn’t a champion whose fucking entire life rides on keeping the connection to her dragon.”
“Her life did ride on it, Astra, and so did her baby’s. You weren’t here after her attack. She would have died if her mates
hadn’t stepped up. You still have a chance. Your wound is far from fatal. You will heal.”
Astra deflated a little at the mention of Simina’s daughter. Astra adored the little girl, but that didn’t change her own desires.
“Well I don’t have mates and I don’t want mates. That counteragent was supposed to fucking work. Now what am I supposed to do? I’d have been better off if the wound had been fatal.”
Javin’s golden eyes flashed and his jaw flexed. She had him. The toxin on her opponent’s claws wasn’t a new thing. Within the last year, multiple champions had sustained injuries like hers. Some, like her brother, had died from their wounds. Others had been lucky enough to live, though only the ones who found mates ever made it back into the arena. That is, until Simina and Javin had managed to get their hands on a sample of the drug the toxin was metabolized from and create a counteragent to protect against the toxin’s effects.
“We’re already working on a new counteragent—”
Astra’s eyes widened. “Wait a second. You knew it had stopped working?”
Javin sat back and scrubbed his hands over his face, sighing. “We’re still working on understanding what happened. It might have lost effectiveness due to metabolic differences between victims, or we might be dealing with an entirely new version of the drug. You’re the first victim of an attack since we became aware of its loss of effectiveness, so we have no data beyond what we can gather from your wound. We do have a serum that can slow the spread of the toxin, but right now that’s all we’ve got.”
“But you knew, you bastard. My life is fucking over. I’d have liked a little warning. I could have avoided getting hit if I’d believed this was a possibility!”