by Anna Hackett
Two of them rushed her at once. She blocked one sword, but the second guard’s sword sliced into her shoulder.
She felt the hot burn and then the rush of warm blood. Her white shirt bloomed red.
“Harper!”
She heard Regan’s shout, but ignored it. She kept swinging. There was no way she could rescue the women right now. She cast a frustrated look at the cells. As she kept bleeding, dizziness rocked her. She wasn’t even sure if she could make it out of here alive.
Another guard came in close. He was carrying a baton and slammed it down hard on her sword arm. With a cry, her sword clattered to the ground.
All around, the prisoners were shouting and banging against the bars of their cells. The din was deafening.
More dizziness made her stomach turn over and she staggered. She wasn’t going to make it.
She thought of Raiden. Just his face. She raised her good arm. She was going to take down as many Thraxians as she could.
Taking a step back, she ran into a hard body. No.
But arms wrapped around her and Thorin’s massive form rushed past her. As he engaged the remaining guards, Harper was turned around so fast, her head spun.
She looked up into Raiden’s frightening enraged face.
He didn’t say anything, just looked at her blood-soaked shirt, and then scooped her up into his arms.
“Raiden—”
“Quiet.”
The harsh word made her wince.
Behind them, Thorin had taken down the final few guards. “Let’s go.” He swung his axe up on his shoulder. “We’ll have more company soon, and it’s best we aren’t caught in here.”
As Raiden carried her away, she tried to see Regan and Rory, but they were lost in the shadows. They exited the House of Thrax, and in the main corridor, she saw the two guards slumped against the wall, unconscious.
Raiden and Thorin quickly moved through the tunnels, heading back toward the House of Galen.
“I got a message from Regan,” she said quickly. “I had to come. It said to come alone.”
“You talk of trust, but it is all lies.”
Raiden’s words were like a well-aimed sword slashing at her heart. “I’m sorry—”
“I said be quiet.”
They stepped back into the House of Galen, and Raiden slammed into the living area. He strode through another doorway into a smaller room. It had smooth, plastered walls and a huge bed covered in furs.
His bedroom. He dumped her on the bed and went back to the door. “Thorin, bring me the healing kit.”
Then Raiden strode back to her and grabbed the neckline of her shirt. With one pull, he tore it, barely missing the nasty cut from the guard’s sword. Raiden’s eyes narrowed, and he looked even more dangerous. Anger pulsed off him in waves.
Thorin appeared and dumped a leather bag on the bed, before shooting Harper a sympathetic look and leaving the room.
Raiden took a moment to sort through the bag and pulled out a clean wad of fabric and a tube. He squirted a blue substance on the fabric and wiped away the blood on her skin. His gentle touch was at odds with the scary look on his face.
He squirted more gel on the wound, rubbing it in with the lightest touch.
“It will be healed within a few hours,” he said.
“I had to see her, Raiden. And there is another woman from my space station there.”
He stayed silent.
“They’re all I have left,” she whispered.
He stared at her. “You could have had more here, if you’d wanted them.”
He spoke in the past tense. She felt another burn of heat under her heart, but she also felt anger. “Oh? You’ve made it clear it’s better to stay alone. To not care.”
Raiden stood in one fluid move of his powerful body. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I will kill the Thraxian imperator for luring you there.”
Harper closed her eyes. God. Even while he was insanely angry at her, he was still trying to protect her. “It’s always about vengeance with you, isn’t it?”
“I have a fight to prepare for.” He spun on his heel and stormed out.
Harper sagged back against the bed and pulled her shirt around herself. She could smell him on the covers. Thorin’s big presence filled the doorway.
“Haven’t seen him that angry in a long time.”
“Thanks, Thorin. You’re making me feel much better.”
“Not here to make you feel better, little gladiator. You screwed up.”
She turned her head to face him. “You want to kick me a little? Maybe stab me with a sword again?”
His gaze ran over her, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “Nope. Don’t think you can feel much worse than you do right now.” He turned to leave as well, but paused. “You may not know Raiden well enough yet, but his bark is usually worse than his bite.”
She snorted, wrapping her arms around herself. His bark was bad enough.
“He was a ball of rage when I first met him, but over the years, he learned to lock it down. When he gets really angry…” Thorin’s gaze met hers “…it’s because he really cares, even if he won’t admit it.”
With that excellent parting shot, Thorin left her alone.
Chapter Thirteen
With single-minded focus, Raiden kept slamming his hands into the gel-filled punching bags at the edge of the training arena.
Sweat was pouring off him. He’d been at it for a few hours.
He heard heavy footsteps and recognized them as Thorin’s. Since he still wasn’t in the mood for talking, Raiden didn’t bother turning around.
“So, you destroyed the sparring dummy and the sword target. Now you’re going to hit that bag until it bursts.”
“Yes.”
Thorin snorted. “I never thought I would see the day when the mighty Raiden fell for a woman.”
Raiden slammed his fist into the bag harder than before, sending the bag shaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why do you deny what you feel for her?”
Raiden stayed quiet, flexing his torn knuckles. He kept seeing Harper in the middle of the House of Thrax, blood soaking her shirt. He looked down at his own blood-stained hands and knew some of it was hers.
“I think I know,” Thorin said.
Raiden turned, pressing his hands to his hips. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“No. Watching you being an ass is too entertaining.”
Raiden turned back to his bag and started punching it again.
“You like her,” Thorin continued. “You care about her. You’re pissed she went off on her own and got herself hurt. That’s understandable.”
“Caring for someone makes you weak.”
“I know you care, Raiden. Not just for Harper. And you’re one of the strongest men I know. You pulled me out of the darkest place I’ve ever known, and put me back together.”
Raiden’s hands stopped. He and Thorin never spoke of those dark days when the man had first come to the arena. “You would have saved yourself.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. Besides, something makes me think that a woman like Harper…she’d make you stronger.”
Raiden heaved in a breath, thinking of Harper using her swords, focusing on winning the fight. Of Harper’s small cries as she came under his mouth.
Thorin’s voice lowered. “I’d really like to know what you are thinking right now.”
When Raiden spun around, Thorin shot Raiden a wily grin.
“You can’t protect everyone, Raiden. She’ll accept you standing by her side, but she’ll never let you lock her away. I know you lost everybody you loved, but—”
“Save it, Thorin. I don’t want to hear it.”
His friend sighed. “Yeah, I can see that. By the gods, you have a hard head.”
Raiden heard a horn blare. He abandoned the bag and strode over to the weapons racks. He pulled his harness on, his cloak falling into place behind him. For a second, he touched
the medallion on his chest. “I have a fight.”
“Yeah.” Thorin shook his head. “My pity to the poor opponents you take your anger out on tonight.”
***
Harper tried to control her nerves. She stood in the House of Galen seats, one cold hand on the railing, watching Raiden and the others fighting below.
It was a simple fight. There were no chariots, beasts, or anything fancy. Just good, old-fashioned fighting.
But she was still nervous. She scanned around and spotted the Thraxian imperator moving into the House of Thrax box. The big alien sat in his seat, directly across the arena from Harper.
And then Harper spotted Regan.
Rage pulsed through her. Her friend was chained by her neck and shoved to sit at the imperator’s feet. Harper breathed through her nose, trying to control the need to rush over there and beat the imperator in the face.
“Keep it together.”
The deep voice was barely more than a rumble. Harper didn’t even spare a glance for the big, silent gladiator who was like a mountain standing beside her.
“Nero, you’ve never spoken to me before. Why start now?”
“Raiden asked me to watch you.”
Harper wasn’t sure if that made her happy or angry. Raiden. He hadn’t spoken to her since he’d rescued her.
He’d shut her out. Like they’d never touched each other.
Don’t think of him. She looked over at Regan. Hold on, Regan. Two fights and you’ll be safe.
Harper forced herself to look back at the arena. Raiden was mowing through his opponents, leaving them writhing in the sand.
Yes, he was on a tear tonight. She almost felt sorry for the House of Thrax gladiators. She watched two more of them fall.
They weren’t offering Raiden much challenge. She frowned. The fight was easy. Too easy.
And then she heard the crowd gasp.
Harper jerked to her feet, her heart hammering in her chest. She turned and saw that Raiden was staggering backward.
A spear had pierced his chest.
No. As she watched, he gripped the long pole and yanked, pulling it out of his flesh.
She let out a shaky breath. Yes, he was big and strong, but blood was pouring down his chest. How was he still even on his feet?
“He’s strong, Harper,” Nero said.
She glanced at the gladiator, but saw he looked concerned. Farther down the row, Galen was also on his feet.
“Damn Thraxian bastards,” Galen muttered. “It was a sneak attack, not out in the open and honorable.”
Harper was pretty sure the Thraxians didn’t give a shit about honor. “How’s he still on his feet?”
“Aurelians are bred tough,” Galen answered, his single pale eye glittering.
She saw Thorin, Kace and the others close in around Raiden. Raiden was talking to Thorin, so that was good.
She looked back at the Thraxian gladiators. There was still a large group of them left standing. Eight…no nine.
But the crowd gasped again. She spun and watched, horrified, as Raiden collapsed onto the sand.
Harper curled her hands around the railing, willing him to get up. The Thraxian fighters rushed forward, trying to get to him.
The House of Galen gladiators met them, weapons swinging.
She sensed Galen move. He was closer to the railing now, his scarred face blank of emotion.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded.
“Poison.”
A cold wind blew through her. The others had warned her that the House of Thrax were known for their debilitating poisons.
She watched as the others fought the final fighters, but every minute that ticked by felt like an eternity. Raiden needed medical help.
Then she saw a huge Thraxian get past Galen’s gladiators. He headed straight for Raiden’s still form.
No. Harper reached over and yanked Galen’s sword from the scabbard at his waist.
As she whirled, she heard him curse. But Harper gripped the railing, and with one lithe move, she pushed herself over.
“Harper!” Galen’s hands brushed her.
She landed in the arena in a crouch, feeling sand sink into her shoes. Then she pushed up and raced across the arena.
The Thraxian was almost at Raiden’s side, lifting his axe with a smile.
He didn’t see her coming. She came in from the side, slamming her sword against his hand where it held his axe. He screamed, his weapon hitting the sand.
But he wasn’t down. He swung out his other huge fist and Harper leaped backward to avoid him. She had no armor, just her simple clothes. She couldn’t let him strike her. She didn’t let her panic overcome her. She had to protect Raiden.
She swung her sword again, but he dodged. She took the risk, getting in close, and sliced a nasty cut across his belly.
He staggered backward. Another gladiator appeared and her weapon met his. She let her rage fuel her and she forced him back, finally taking him down with a slice across his thigh. Blood spilled onto the sand.
Footsteps behind her. She spun, lifting her sword.
“Whoa.” Saff raised a hand. “Easy, Harper. Fight’s over. And the House of Thrax will have to answer for that dirty little poison trick.”
Harper blinked, trying to calm herself. She saw all the Thraxian gladiators were down and the crowd was cheering. Chanting Raiden’s name.
She raced across to Raiden, falling to her knees beside him. His muscles were tensed, straining. Paralyzed, she realized. But his eyes were open, his gaze raw and intense. He looked like he was in agony.
“You’ll be okay.” She brushed a hand over his forehead. “Just hold on.”
“We need to get him out of here,” Thorin shouted.
Kace and Thorin moved, one to Raiden’s feet and the other to his head. They lifted his prone body between them. Saff, Lore, and Harper provided cover as they carried him out of the arena.
Galen met them in the tunnels. “Hurry. I have our healers waiting.” He looked at Harper and held out a hand. “My sword.”
She handed it over and hurried to stay by Raiden’s side. He’d be okay. He was Raiden. Champion of the Kor Magna Arena.
They reached the House of Galen. Galen held the door open. “Get him into Medical.”
Harper had never been in Medical. The lights were bright, and the place looked far more high-tech than anything else she’d seen here. Three large, rectangular tanks, filled with a blue fluid, sat against the back wall.
Two tall Hermia healers moved over, their beige robes whispering quietly around their slender bodies. “Place him in the central tank, please.” The lead healer’s voice was soft, almost melodious.
Harper moved back. She saw Raiden was breathing shallowly, perspiration dripping off his face. His gaze met hers and she felt seared by it.
They stripped Raiden of his clothes and lowered him into the tank. Harper saw the fluid was thick, like a gel. It surrounded his body, and they rested his head on a small ledge that kept his mouth above the fluid.
“What is it?” Harper asked.
“A regenerative gel,” Saff said. “It heals just about anything, but it’s expensive as hell. We’re lucky to have three regen tanks.”
One of the Hermia leaned over, running some sort of scanner over Raiden’s form.
“He’ll be okay.” Harper wasn’t sure if her words were a question or a statement.
Saff slid an arm along her shoulders. “Of course, he will. He’s Raiden.”
Harper swallowed. She wondered if Saff heard the tremor in her own voice.
Then the healer turned and smiled. “The poison is working its way out of his system. Once he finishes in the regen tank, he will be fine.”
The tension in the room dropped. She saw Thorin run a hand over his head and Galen’s shoulders relax. Kace bumped a shoulder against Saff’s.
“Everybody get some rest,” Galen said.
As the others shuffled out, Harper didn’t move. When Galen steppe
d in front of her, she lifted her chin. “I’m not leaving him.”
“He’s in a regenerative coma. He won’t wake for a while.”
She looked at Raiden. His eyes were closed now, his muscles relaxed. “I don’t care.”
Galen stared at her face for a moment before he finally nodded and left.
Eventually, the medical team dimmed the lights. Harper dragged a chair over to Raiden’s tank and sat down. She released a strained breath. Somehow, this big, alpha gladiator had slipped under her guard.
The hours ticked by as she sat and watched him. She was vaguely aware of Galen checking on her and Saff bringing her something to eat. Soon, the medical staff reappeared and transferred his now-healed body to a regular bed.
“He will sleep for a few more hours yet,” one healer told her.
Harper nodded. He was breathing deeply and evenly. Because she needed the contact, she crawled into the bed beside him, curling up against his chest.
She brushed the hair off his face. Damn the Thraxians. They’d taken so much from her, and they were still trying to take the last few things she really cared about.
Exhausted, she pressed her face to his chest. His heart was a steady beat under her ear. Part of her wanted to tell Raiden not to risk his life for her, for Regan.
But she knew her gladiator had a heart of gold, even if he kept it buried under the macho alpha male and the tattoos.
“I see you,” she murmured.
She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Raiden woke slowly. His skin felt sticky, and he knew what that meant. He’d been in a regen tank.
Draking Thraxians. He shifted slightly, testing his limbs, and felt a warm weight pressed to his side and chest. He frowned, moving his arm. Nothing hurt.
He realized the weight was a woman. Harper.
He tried to move and she stirred. Her hand smoothed over his chest.
“Take it easy,” she murmured.
He looked down, saw her dark hair spilling across his skin. He liked seeing it like that.
She sat up, reaching over to the side table beside the medical bunk. When she moved to swing her legs off the bed, he gripped her hip. “No.”
She looked at him and then nodded. She handed him a cup filled with a blue liquid.