by Ophelia Bell
Frowning, she turned to the wall screen, ready to start taking names and call League Security on the offenders.
Her heart lurched into her throat at the sight of three familiar faces, bigger than life and smiling at the cameras.
“No. It can’t be them,” she said when her voice finally returned.
“Not them,” Simon said. “The other team. Herrick’s old training buddies are all on the shit. There’s probably a dozen of them, including the trio on deck. But Triple Talons are in for a rude awakening if they fight today.”
“I … have to go.”
Simina’s vision tunneled as she moved down the hallway on autopilot, not quite sure where she was going, but knowing she needed to get there fast. By the time she reached her lab at a dead sprint, she didn’t care about all the startled faces she’d run past to get there.
She burst through the door, breathless. “We need to get it done now,” she snapped at a surprised Javin. “Give me whatever you have. Three antidotes. Three counteragents. Whatever.”
“It isn’t ready,” Javin said, incredulous. “You’ve got the process as streamlined as it can get, Simina. You know the first sample won’t be synthesized for another twelve hours, and we would still need to test it on Simon to make sure it’s effective. It won’t be ready to roll out to the entire League for two more days. Why the sudden hurry?”
Simina was already out the door and in the stairwell, running for the roof by the time he finished speaking. She had her lab coat off and her blouse unbuttoned, but didn’t even bother with the rest before vaulting off the landing dock and over the edge into empty air. Her dragon took over, its instincts carrying them in a high arc as her wings unfurled and she let out an urgent roar. Turning in the direction of the arena, she flew harder and faster than she’d ever flown before.
* * *
It seemed she’d flown for an eternity before the huge coliseum came into view. There were regulations against interfering with a match once it was underway, but she didn’t care. The crowd was already roaring excitedly at whatever was happening in the center of the massive amphitheater. Simina pushed harder, climbing up and over the edge and circling around to get her bearings and put eyes on her mates.
No, that couldn’t be right. She’d let them go weeks earlier for this exact reason. They were definitely not her mates. And yet her dragon protested the very notion, pushing her on.
She craned her neck to see them face off in typical combat formation for a match between two trios. Triple Talons were dressed in homage to the Ebon Claw—all black with red stripes that mimicked claw marks down their left arms. Her heart lurched at the sight, so reminiscent of bleeding wounds, but she knew those symbols well enough to know better. The other team wore a garish green, suggesting more traditional reptilian shifters—gators, perhaps.
Then a horn sounded and they launched at each other. Within a split-second, the six champions were a tangle of body parts—part human, part shifter—as the match began in earnest. Seeing the first blow make contact with Veryl’s chest sent Simina’s blood boiling. It didn’t matter that the big dragon immediately launched into the air and counter-attacked, sending his opponent into the dust. When the other fighter’s claws came out, she knew she had to stop the fight before it was too late.
She tilted her wings to aim directly to the center of the arena and dove, letting out a deafening roar as she aimed for the other team. There was no way in hell they were going to harm her mates if she could help it.
The crowd roared as she descended, all bodies rising to their feet and thousands of hands pointing. It took a moment longer before the six individuals in the center of the arena looked up. The gator shifters looked more pissed than frightened, but Triple Talons backed away, all three of them wide-eyed once they recognized her.
Simina landed in between and aimed her snout at the opposing team. She let out another ground-shaking roar and nearly gave into the urge to breathe silver fire down on the despicable creatures in front of her. Diplomacy was a better option, despite how much she hated the idea. These weren’t the champions who’d killed her lover. Even though they were cheating bastards, they weren’t out for murder. She couldn’t resist releasing a brief snort of flame to drive home the fact that she’d have happily set them on fire, but then she reined in her dragon and began to shift.
Only a split-second into her change, all hell broke loose. One of the gator shifters snarled and lunged. “You want a fight, bitch? I’ll give you a fucking fight!” His claws came out.
Instead of her dragon, Simina’s human shape became the target of the attack, and acrid-scented claws raked across her bare chest before she could even raise her arms up in defense.
Searing pain shot through her. The sounds of the crowd rose to a deafening, thundering pitch. As she fell to the ground, she was dimly aware of three bodies in black launching themselves over her with fierce battle cries and tackling the other three men.
She couldn’t move. Her entire body was racked with agony. They would all die now, and it was going to be her fault.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Veryl knew what had happened the second the gator’s blow struck and Simina went down. The sticky, glistening coating on the shifter’s claws was exactly the same as he’d seen in all the replays of the Ebon Claw’s final match. She’d been poisoned, and it had happened because she was trying to protect them.
Cato and Dez both launched at the other team, their own razor-sharp talons extended to full-length, ignoring every regulation to keep the deadliest parts of their anatomy safely within certain parameters. Their mate was down, and someone was going to pay.
Veryl quickly scanned the arena for the referee. “Poison claws!” he yelled when he found the big falcon shifter, whose wings were perpetually manifested, flying as quickly as he could to the center.
Several familiar figures followed on the heels of the referee. Help was coming for Simina, at least. For that, he was grateful.
Then Veryl dove into the fray, intent on keeping the other two people he loved most in the world safe from harm. Within seconds, he was no longer aware of what went on around them, dead set on taking down the bastards who had hurt Simina. He would fucking kill them, if it came to that.
He launched himself to tackle one of the gators from behind, but something hit his back as hard as a boulder before he could reach the other shifter. He went flying, spinning as he fell and manifesting his wings as quickly as he could to remain upright. The gator who had attacked advanced on him, enormous tail swishing behind him, ready to strike again. The man was all teeth and tail now, snapping his enormous jaws at Veryl. Only his torso, arms, and legs remained somewhat human. A second gator appeared in Veryl’s periphery.
If there were two coming for him, that meant either Dez or Cato was down too. Veryl’s gut burned with rage, but he didn’t dare look around to find his teammates. If let his guard down, the gators would kill him too.
Talons out, and wings at the ready, he crouched facing them both. There was no way he’d let them take him down without doing his level best to rip them to shreds in the process.
Before he could blink, a giant red blur barreled out of the sky, knocking one gator off his feet. Then a blue-winged figure came from the other side, toppling the other. Veryl stared mutely at the two figures that now grappled with the big gator shifters. Those weren’t his teammates, despite the wings being the right color. They were just as skilled at combat, however.
It gave Veryl the opportunity to survey the carnage. Three bodies lay nearby, and the sight turned his blood to ice. Slowly, one black-clad figure roused and sat up, familiar blue eyes flashing through his helmet’s visor. Cato reached up and unstrapped his helmet, yanking it off his head. His blond curls were plastered to his skull with sweat and blood, but he was whole.
A few feet away, Dez rolled over and lurched up onto his knees, looked around
, then struggled to stand before losing his balance and falling back onto hands and knees, shaking his head.
“What the actual fuck?” Dez said. He leaned back on his haunches and scrabbled at the closure of his chinstrap. Tearing his helmet off, he tossed the armored cover away.
Veryl caught sight of Simina’s naked, bleeding body a few feet away and immediately sprang back up. The other two moved to action at the same moment, both running to her side.
“Please, no,” Veryl said.
“Someone help!” Cato bellowed as Veryl lifted their unconscious mate into his arms and held her to his chest.
“Don’t you dare fucking die!” Dez said, ripping off his gloves and cupping Simina’s face in his hands. She was limp in Veryl’s arms. Too limp.
Veryl held her tight, whispering into her ear how much he loved her, how much they loved her. When the medics arrived, they had to pry her out of his arms. He finally relented, standing back in a stupor as they took her vitals, assessed her wounds, and then loaded her into a small rotary transport.
He pushed his way toward her, desperate to keep her within his sight, but the big medic pushed him back. “No room for passengers in the transport. Just a pilot and the patient. She’ll get to the clinic fast. They’ll take care of her there, I promise.”
Two pairs of hands pulled him back, and his dragon calmed at the contact of his friends, but worry still ate at his insides.
“She has to be all right,” he said to them through their link. “I can’t survive if she isn’t.”
“She will be,” Cato said. “Because we can’t, either.”
When the transporter was airborne, they turned back to the remnants of their battle. Because that was what it had been, after all. Not a contest of skill, not a simple match to display their athletic prowess, but an all-out, bloodthirsty fight. Veryl’s talons still itched to draw blood, but the honor had been taken from him.
He glanced to his teammates and saw the shining red evidence of the damage they’d done coating their arms and hands, which was some consolation. He was infinitely grateful that neither of them had been badly injured.
Two familiar figures came toward them. The red and blue streaks he’d seen made sense now.
“You three all right?” Bryer Vargas asked. “Ig and I saw what happened. He recognized the scent of the poison. We couldn’t stand by and watch that shit happen to another team.” He frowned and glanced in the direction the medic had flown with Simina. “I guess it still happened. Doctor Taji’s stronger than she looks, though. She’ll be fine.”
“Thank you,” Cato said when Veryl and Dez were unable to find words.
Despite Bryer’s sentiment, Veryl worried he was just trying to sound hopeful. The poison had nearly killed him, but Bryer had survived, so perhaps there really was hope for Simina.
“Our transporter’s parked in the championship winner’s spot,” Ignazio said, holding out a tiny key fob. “Take it. Every second’s going to count. Make sure you’re there for her. We saw everything here, so we can help sort it out with the authorities.”
Veryl took the key fob and he, Dez, and Cato broke into a run, aiming for the exit to the arena.
The trio stopped in confusion when they reached the coveted championship-winner’s parking spot adjacent to the arena entry ramp.
“What the hell?” Dez said staring at the decidedly less than sleek looking transporter parked there. “This thing’s huge. It’s big enough for six, at least.”
“It’s family-size,” Cato said, swiping the keys out of Veryl’s inert hand and climbing into the driver’s seat. “Get in, we’ve got someplace else to be, and fast. We need to be there when she wakes up.”
He drove like his tail was on fire, which neither Veryl nor Dez complained about. They were all desperate to reach their mate, make sure she was all right, and prove to her that they were worth sticking around for.
“She knew those fuckers were going to try something,” Cato muttered halfway to the League Medical Institute. “Why else would she have dive-bombed our match? It wasn’t just to say she missed us.”
“If she hadn’t shown up, it could’ve been one of us,” Veryl said.
“Or all of us,” Dez added.
The transporter surged forward as Cato gunned the accelerator.
When they blew through the clinic doors on foot a few minutes later, it took half a dozen nurses and three security guards to keep them from tearing through the halls yelling Simina’s name. Veryl did start yelling, unable to restrain himself any longer. He was taking a deep breath about to call for her again when a man in a white coat rushed forward and clamped his hands on Veryl’s shoulders, shaking him.
“Cool it with the yelling! We heard you the first ten times. Who are you to Simina?”
“We’re her mates,” Veryl growled.
The doctor’s jaw dropped and he took a few seconds to recover. “Her mates? Since when?”
“Since we met on Earth a few weeks ago,” Cato said.
The doctor let out a soft whistle. “Three champions … Holy shit, this is unexpected. I apologize for my reaction, but you three are the last kind of men I’d expect her to settle down with.”
“Because of Talon Garrik,” Veryl said. “We know, and she didn’t exactly want to stay with us when she found out we were champions, but it’s the truth.”
“We have her marks,” Cato said and started to turn.
The doctor held up his hands. “No need. I believe you. The three of you remind me of him, in fact.” He chuckled softly and shook his head. “This is the kind of stunt he’d have pulled if she got hurt, so I have to say I’m not the least bit surprised. As for Simina, she’s been brought in and is in stable condition, but we won’t know the extent of the damage to her system until we complete a scan. Do you think the three of you can wait quietly here, or do I need to find you a private room so you don’t disturb the other patients?”
When none of the three answered him, the man said, “Right.” Turning to a nurse, he said, “Set them up in a room on the fifth floor. We’ll be bringing Simina up when she’s done with the scan.”
“No more fucking waiting, Doctor,” Cato said. “Let us see her now.”
The man shook his head. “She’s still unconscious. Let my team do their jobs. We’ll get her back to you as soon as we can.”
They were ushered into the lift and up several floors, then into a pristine hospital room with two walls of windows overlooking mountainous vistas. Less than an hour later, Simina was wheeled in on a gurney and transferred to the bed, her body limp, and her torso wrapped in a swath of white bandage.
The doctor came in, his face a stark mask of worry. “No change in her status since we spoke last. The wound refuses to heal as fast as it should, which is a side-effect of the poison. We’re flushing her system with fluids as quickly as we can. Fortunately, we’re in the process of synthesizing an antidote for the poison, but we don’t have a sample of it ready yet, and that was already slated to go to a different patient. I’m inclined to give it to her first, but it would be risky in her state.”
“She’s dying from the poison, and you think it’s too risky to give her the antidote in her state? What the fuck does that even mean?” Cato snapped.
The doctor held up his hands but held his ground as Cato advanced on him. “I don’t mean her injury. The antidote is completely untested. While it is designed to counteract the poison, we have no idea what other effects it will have on her system. Or, more importantly … on the baby’s.”
Veryl’s heart stopped and Cato froze with his mouth half-open.
“Baby …? She’s pregnant?” Veryl said, rushing to the side of the bed and dropping to his knees. He took Simina’s limp hand in his and kissed it.
“Yes, she’s a few weeks along, which means she likely conceived when she was on vacation. Her dragon has diver
ted all its power to protecting the baby from the poison—it’s created a protective cocoon around the fetus. My fear is that the antidote will weaken the cocoon and expose the baby to the poison before it’s fully clear of her system. It’s an impossible decision, I know, but please try to consider what Simina would want,” the doctor said. “I’ve known her a long time, know what she’s been through …”
“She’d do anything to protect her baby, just like her dragon is doing,” Veryl said, cutting him off.
Cato and Dez both let out startled exclamations of protest. “She might die without the antidote,” Cato said.
“No,” Veryl said. “There has to be another way. You two didn’t spend as much time with her as I did. You don’t know how much she wanted a child. This baby means everything to her.” He turned to face the doctor, who regarded him with a grim expression. “Can her system fight the poison on its own?”
“Our animals heal us, but the poison interferes with that link, which is what makes it so lethal. It’s worse yet because her dragon is focused entirely on the baby now. But all of the victims we’ve treated have been unmated champions so far.”
The doctor’s brows knit and he crossed his arms, staring down at Simina and considering. “Simina often speculated that a mated champion would have a stronger constitution to fight the poison’s effect. We’ve had no way to test this theory, but if you are indeed her mates—which I can see is true from the marks you all bear—you can reach her dragon through your connection, help strengthen it, and lend the power of your own to healing her. It would take longer than the antidote alone would, but would ensure the baby remained safe. Did all three of you mark her?”
Veryl shared a glance with his teammates. With a frown, he shook his head and looked at the doctor. “After we discovered she’d marked us without realizing it, we wanted to return the favor, but we never got the chance to even discuss it with her. Finding out we were champions spooked her. And now we can’t ask.”
