When We Were Kings (The Wolf of Oberhame Book 1)

by Auryn Hadley

  "I said block," he repeated, standing over her.

  All she could do was nod. Tears stung her eyes, but she didn't want to whine like a broken girl. With a sigh, Tristan knelt before her and moved her hands away to check her face. His fingers were soft.

  "Ley?"

  "I'm ok. It just made my head swim." She turned her face from his hands.

  "Hey. Why didn't you block?"

  She couldn't stop the tiny chuckle. He sounded worried, even though she'd taken so much worse. Then again, Tristan always worried about her when she got hurt. It was just his nature.

  "I wanted to win." She looked up, then sniffed, proving the hit was hard enough to make her nose run. "Not like I have a sword, right? Gotta use what you can."

  "Yeah," he agreed, then offered her a hand. "Need to walk that out?"

  She shook her head, but accepted the help up. "I'm ok. Let's do it again."

  "That's my girl."

  Those words made her stomach feel warm. He always said it with a purr, as if the title was praise. To her, it was. She was the Lion's bitch. What had started as a joke became her identity, and one she was proud to claim. She was his girl, his partner, and he treated her like it.

  He gestured for her to raise her shield, and Leyli complied. Then he found a fighting stance, but he didn't swing. "If you are ever left with only a shield, the trick is to fight dirty. No honor, no predictability, and use anything you can get your hands or feet on. Ok?"

  "Yeah. Anything can be an advantage." He'd told her that on her first day. She remembered well.

  Tristan grinned. "Good. So try it. I promise I won't break your neck. I will put another bruise on you if you're stupid. Fight!"

  The words were barely out of his mouth before Tristan scooped a lump of sand at her face with his foot. She barely saw the motion and pulled her eyes closed behind her shield, backing away to keep her distance. He'd said dirty, and evidently he meant it. She could do that.

  As soon as the sand settled, Leyli roared and charged him. At the last second, she jumped to the side, kicking out, but he was ready. She hit little more than his sword, and his arm absorbed the shock. What came back was his foot. It hit the edge of her shield, sending it away from her body, and exposing her torso to his next swing. She had no other option. She had to let go and drop, rolling in the same direction as her only weapon.

  Tristan followed, and fast. Without a chance to think, she caught the lip of her shield. It was barely in range. Then she threw it, heaving the weight at him as hard as she could. The wood rim smashed into his body, and the Lion instinctively let go of his swords to catch it. He certainly didn't expect her to follow the shield.

  He didn't have time to untangle himself from the mess she'd made before her body hit him. Together, they fell into the sand and, just like he'd taught her, Leyli punched at his face as hard as she could. Her knuckles screamed in pain, but the man beneath her grunted. Her second hit was better. Her forearm collided with his temple hard enough to daze him. She pushed away, her eyes locked on his sword. She almost made it.

  An inch away, the monster she called a partner grabbed her ankle. Leyli kicked, her free foot colliding with his forehead. She heard him groan, again, but didn't stop. The point was to win. Her fingers closed on the wood handle, and she turned, just in time to see him lunch toward her. Leyli swung.

  The wood collided with his neck. The swing pushed her out of his reach. The Lion staggered to his knees, gasping, and lifted a hand. That was all she needed. Leyli dropped the practice weapon and scurried to his side.

  "Are you ok?"

  He coughed and rubbed at his throat. "That's gonna hurt." Then he smiled, proving she'd done well. "You're a mean little shit."

  "I was taught by a mean big shit." She caught his hand and moved it. "That's probably going to bruise."

  "Proof my partner can hold her own." Then he dropped onto his rump.

  Leyli moved beside him, her eyes checking all of his injuries. Sand still clung to his head, so she wiped it away, but the rest weren't too bad. Then again, she'd still left her mark. Leyli remembered when she'd been too weak to do that. Now, her punches turned the skin red immediately.

  "If you want to go have a bath, I'll send Petya in," she offered.

  "Nah, I'm – "

  Merino's voice interrupted. "Lion!"

  They both looked. The man gestured for Tristan to come to his side, but only Tristan. With one more groan, he obeyed, heaving himself out of the dirt. Leyli did the same, but instead of following, she began to retrieve their weapons. His two swords were half buried in the sand after their scuffle. Her shield, however, wasn't. It had been tossed to the side. Tristan's shield was still leaning against the rack of weapons available for gladiators to pick from. She decided that was a good place for the rest of their things.

  Just off the sands, the pair was talking. Leyli wasn't about to look, but she did watch. That was another trick she'd learned in the compound. Staring at someone could be seen as an insult or advance. Direct eye contact made most of these men uncomfortable, and the only response they knew was to fight. It's why they were still alive. Watching from her peripheral vision meant she could see without drawing anyone's notice.

  The longer Merino talked, the less pleased Tristan looked. Once, he shook his head, but their owner kept going. Then Tristan crossed his arms, everything about his posture turning defiant. Merino just lifted a finger into his face. Whatever he said was too soft to hear, but the posture spoke volumes.

  Then Tristan broke the standoff. "No!" he said, loud enough for it to carry.

  Merino mumbled something, and Tristan set his jaw. Before she could consciously think about it, Leyli took a step toward them, but the look on her partner's face made her feet stop. He looked horrified. It only lasted a split second, then his face turned stony.

  "Pup, go clean up. I'm done throwing you in the dirt for a while," he ordered.

  She had no option but to obey. That's how it went in the compound. Merino ordered Tristan around, then he passed it down to her. She could probably take it out on the men with less experience, but why bother? It wouldn't make her feel better, and it certainly wouldn't keep the peace. Besides, she'd spent her entire life being trained to do what everyone else wanted. Leyli hauled her weary body to what served as a home.

  When she entered Tristan's room, it was silent. The other fighters were still in practice. The masseuse wouldn't start making her rounds until later. But if Tristan told her to get cleaned up, that meant they were done fighting for the day. She hoped it wasn't his way of saying she'd hurt him. Lounging in the water, that thought made her giggle. Her hurting the Lion of Lenlochlien? She might be strong enough to leave a bruise, but that was about it. He didn't just look strong enough to take anything, he truly was.

  She'd just finished scrubbing the dirt from her body when his door opened. In the other room, she heard him rifling through papers and moving things around. Instead of listening, she leaned back, soaking her hair to wash. When she lifted her head, his steps were rounding the corner. A second later, he walked into sight.

  "You ok?" she asked, not caring that she was naked before him.

  "Yeah." He reached over her shoulder to grab soap for her hair. "After dinner, I'm spending the rest of the evening alone. You'll head over to Drustin's for your massage. I want you to go to bed early." While he talked, he worked her hair into suds, massaging her scalp.

  "What's going on?" she asked.

  He refused to look away from her hair. "I just need a night alone. That's all. Told Merino I didn't want you in the training line with a bunch of idiots that would teach you bad habits."

  Was that what the argument was about? It seemed like he was livid, and she didn't think a day throwing weapons with novice fighters would upset him that much. So why did he want to be alone?

  "So I'm just supposed to crawl in bed and go to sleep like a good little girl?"

  For a moment he said nothing, but she watched him swallow �
� twice. When he finally spoke, he was still avoiding her question. "Rinse."

  Leyli ducked her head mostly under water until the last of the suds were gone. The whole time she watched his face. No matter how hard he tried, Tristan couldn't hide his emotions well. Anger was his best mask, but he could only use it when he could honestly feel it. Right now, he looked sad – or maybe terrified.

  She sat up. "Tristan, what's going on?"

  "I just need some time to do my own thing. We'll be up early, same time as always. Don't worry about it." He grabbed the conditioning oil and started working it through her strands.

  She caught his wrist. "I'm worried."

  "This has nothing to do with you. I just need some time."

  "Yeah," she breathed. "Lemme rinse that out, then I'll get out of your way."

  It only took a second to dunk her head again. This time, when she wiped the water from her face, he wasn't hovering over her. He'd grabbed a towel and was waiting for her to step into it. The cloth was barely around her body before he started peeling off his shirt. Obviously, he was going to enjoy the water before it cooled.

  She grabbed her clean clothes and headed out. "Night, Tristan."

  "Hey." His voice stopped her. She turned to find him standing nude with one foot in the bath. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. Just enjoy a little time alone."

  "Whatever."

  She had no idea what Merino had told him, but it wasn't good. Maybe she'd made a mistake, and her partner was getting the blame for it? Maybe he was angry about the bruises she'd left on him? Maybe her owner was planning to separate them, so he could finally get rid of them both? Dozens of possibilities ran through her mind, but if Tristan wouldn't talk to her about it, she had no way of preparing. It felt like she'd been thrown right back into court politics, but this time without the fancy clothes to hide behind.

  Chapter 21

  Petya wasn't the only masseuse Merino owned. Drustin was the other. Most of the men preferred having a woman rub them down. Others felt uncomfortable with that idea. Since Leyli was still the only female gladiator in the compound, she never got much real privacy. Every time she walked onto the sands, she wore less than most undergarments covered. It wasn't that hard to take the next step and learn to have a man work the knots from her body. Naturally, Tristan had insisted.

  Unlike the gladiators, Drustin was lean and soft. His hands were smooth, not callused from weeks of gripping a sword for his life. The best part was that he always smelled like olives and vanilla, his favorite oils. He also refused to work on her unsupervised.

  Either she came to his "office" – which was little more than a room off the dining hall – or she had to keep the Lion present at all times. When she'd asked Tristan why, he'd laughed and said his threats must be working. She tried asking again, but that was the best she got.

  After she ate alone, Leyli didn't bother to go back. She just tapped at the door and stepped in. Behind a curtain she could see the outline of someone on the massage table, and Drustin's form moving around. He paused when he heard the door.

  "It's going to be a minute. Get comfortable."

  "Thanks," Leyli called back.

  The man on the table stiffened, making the masseuse groan. "If you can't relax, I'll kick the Wolf out. If you squirm, I'll make her step in."

  His response was a chuckle. "You don't have the balls. The Lion would take it out on both of us."

  Drustin didn't say a thing, he just pulled the curtain back. Leyli glanced at the naked body laid out before her, then kicked her feet onto a chair. She certainly wasn't about to blush. She also wasn't going to let the men think she was uncomfortable.

  She recognized the fighter laying on the table even if she didn't know his name. They all knew hers – well, the one she used in the arena. Her real name no longer mattered, nor did his. The man was young, just like most people who lived past their first round of fights. His body was lean and agile, but his muscles were toned. From where she sat, she could see his bare buttocks and naked back, but little else except his face. That was turned toward her, the fighter's eyes closed as Drustin found another knot and pressed.

  "What do they call you?" Leyli asked.

  His eyes flicked open, looking surprised. "Wave of Moyloch." He made a disgusted noise. "Told them to pick something else, but they said my ideas had all been claimed."

  "Like?"

  He chuckled. "Hurricane. I'm from the coast, you know. Or Shade. How'd you manage to get Wolf of Oberhame? Figured someone would have claimed that by now."

  "I was told no one had dared to use it before, fearing that the King would withhold giving a rudis for the slight. At the time I had no idea, but the Lion said I was a bitch, and the guard found it amusing. I was announced as the Wolf without anyone asking me about it." She shrugged. "It stuck."

  "Worried you won't get a free ride now?"

  Leyli shook her head. "If I got the offer, I'd tell him to give it to the Lion. He can only hand out one, you know." She didn't need to elaborate.

  Wave lifted his chest, resulting in a smack from Drustin. It didn't change the shocked look on his face. "Really?"

  "One from the King per game. One from the heir or heir's regent." It wasn't something most gladiators knew, but they all dreamed of being handed that polished wood sword as a symbol of their freedom. "The only other way to get one is with two hundred and fifty wins, then the facility owner is required by law to give it. The gladiator can refuse, though."

  "He'd have to be stupid," Wave grumbled.

  Leyli agreed, but like everyone else, she'd heard the rumors. "They say Death has three hundred and thirty-one victories. When he was offered a rudis, he sneered at the man and walked off the sands, back to his cell."

  "Spit," Drustin corrected. "He spit in the official's face."

  Her nose wrinkled. "That's disgusting."

  "That's the point." Drustin chuckled, then slapped Wave's rump. "You're done. Wolf, you're up."

  The young man slipped off the table, his eyes never leaving hers. Leyli just lifted her chin. She knew what he was trying to do and refused to look down. Mostly because she knew she'd blush. No matter how many times she'd seen Tristan naked, that was different. The man before her was not someone she was willing to trust blindly. Never mind that he'd take her glance as an invitation she was not willing to give.

  The whole time he pulled on his blue-grey trews, he was smirking at her. To make her point, Leyli sighed and rolled her eyes, trying her best to act either bored or unimpressed. The truth was that every fiber in her body was begging for Tristan's bulk to appear between them. She might not be naive, but that didn't mean she couldn't wish she was.

  "Out," Drustin ordered, rushing the kid along.

  He was barely away from the table before Leyli was taking his place. As she unlaced her pants, the idiot paused, turning to get a peek. She saw. Dropping her trews to the floor, knowing her shirt would cover her well enough, Leyli glared.

  "If you want a cheap thrill, there's easier ways. I promise, the Lion isn't the only one who'll make you pay for gawking at me like I'm some whore." The threat oozed over her words.

  "Evening, Miss Wolf," Wave said, sounding overly pleased with himself. "When you get tired of that old man, come find me."

  "Not likely," she grumbled.

  Before the fool could start another round, Drustin pulled the curtain back into place, shielding her from his prying eyes. That was all she needed. Let him gawk at her silhouette, if that's what the boy wanted. She didn't care. It wasn't about him seeing her undressed that annoyed her so much, it was how the men thought she'd feel flattered, instead of the other way around. She was the one they all longed for, simply because she was the only woman in camp.

  Drustin, on the other hand, wasn't a fool. He turned to the counter beside him and started arranging his oils. Until she was face down on his table, he didn't say a word. He also didn't try to steal a peek.

  "You're safe," she assured him, pillowing her head on he
r crossed arms.

  The man chuckled. "Where's your bodyguard?"

  "Partner, and he's busy."

  "Mm," Drustin murmured, moving to her side. "Does he know you're here?"

  "He told me to see you." She shrugged, but froze when the cool oil hit her skin. "Does the Lion have every man in here terrified of him?"

  "Yeah. More would be, if they stopped long enough to think about it. He's not the type to forgive, which is why he's still alive." Then he started rubbing. "Wolf, the games are only half the threat. Many gladiators never live through their training. It's often easier to kill the competition in their sleep."

  "Wouldn't Merino make an example of the ones who do? A game wild enough to make his profits and ensure the man's death, or such?"

  "If he knows who did it." He found a knot and focused on it. "But it's hard to pick out a killer in a sea of killers. None of you can claim that your hands aren't bloody."

  "No," she agreed. "We can't. We just have to learn how to live with it."

  The rest of her massage was silent. There wasn't really much else to say, but her mind was stuck on that. Not that she was a killer. That was something she would never forget. Rather, the thought of someone sneaking into her rooms, hoping to remove the Princess before anyone noticed. A tiny part of her wondered if someone had already tried.

  It wouldn't be hard. Their doors didn't lock. They had no real privacy. All Palino would have to do is promise to buy a man's title if the Wolf never woke up. If he could figure out who she was, she wouldn't even be safe in Villanelle. Not without her best friend, that is.

  And for the first time, Tristan had told her to leave him alone. Leyli wondered again if it was because she'd kicked him. Or maybe she was getting good enough that he no longer felt like she needed to be protected? She could think of a million reasons why he'd be tired of her, but only one reason he'd bother keeping her around: he still had to fight tandem.