Isolde could only nod as she watched the preparations for the upcoming fight. Then something huge passed before the screen, blocking almost everything in sight despite the object seeming to be some distance away from the camera.
Isolde’s breath caught as it stepped into the fading light. It reminded her of the beast in Diego’s trophy room. She wasn’t entirely certain her eyes weren’t fooling her, and it wasn’t actually the trophy come back to life to have its revenge.
“What… is that?” she dared ask, although the answer was obvious.
“That is Crane,” Eleya said, and even her voice sounded quiet.#p#分页标题#e#
The trophy beast howled, prowling the arena. In zoos on Terra, Isolde had sometimes seen wild, caged animals roar like that.
“I’m not a warrior, but – how is it even possible to fight that unarmed?”
There were three warriors in the room with her, who were supposed to know. None of them answered.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Diego
To those who didn’t know Diego Grothan at all, it might have looked like he was a man preparing to die. In a way, he was. Fighting a monster like Crane barehanded was not something one could afford to take easily.
Diego was confident, but not cocky. His training had been the best Briolina could offer, and he swore not to shame it that day. A Brion general didn’t make a fool of himself. There was honor even in losing, if you went down fighting. He planned to do no such thing, but he was aware that everything he did in the arena would be watched and judged. His words would carry the weight of whatever his image was after the fight ended.
Crane was not someone to be underestimated, but Diego had not been grothan for so long by not knowing his advantages and weaknesses. Crane was bigger, which meant he was slower. He lacked self-preservation, which made him dangerous, but also uncaring about the wounds he received. Both those things and many more could work in his favor.
Faren and Atren had joined him under the arena. Briolina’s two moons had risen, casting the world in twilight. Diego wished he could have said something to Isolde. He hoped she’d be at the ringside, so he could get one last look at those beautiful green eyes, if it was meant to be his last. He would fight to the end, to his dying breath to get another.
“Report,” he commanded.
Atren sighed. “No modifications to his skin and flesh, but I would look out for his punches. My sources and Eleya’s suggest there may have been some reinforcing surgery on his bones. Nothing certain. He spent some time in the facilities on the other side of Nerth, healers specializing in bone tech were present, but that is it. Could be a false lead.”
Diego thought it over, adjusting to the new information and the possibility it was fake. “Very well,” he said. “The other thing? Are your tasks clear?”
There were affirmative nods from both.
He sent them away, taking the last minutes of preparation for himself. On the door, Faren paused. “I will keep her safe,” he said and left.
That had to have been the most shocking thing to happen to him that day, Diego thought with morbid amusement. Never mind Crane and the very real possibility he’d have his head ripped off in front of Isolde’s eyes. Faren hadn’t meant keeping Isolde safe after the fight, where the situation was anybody’s game – until the result, they all behaved nicely, but Diego was making no illusions that it all bordered on the edge of a knife. Atren would take care of that. He had meant that if Diego was to die, he would see his gesha was delivered to safety and kept so.
He’d be damned, that had to have been the most sentimental thing Faren had ever said. Maybe Eren was right and they were going soft.
Diego allowed himself a chuckle at that. He flexed his muscles, feeling the pure, unrestrained strength pulse beneath his skin, the stimulants racing through his blood. It was good to be strong. It was good to be alive. He would remain so.
“Diego,” a voice said then. A voice that he had used to look forward to hearing, but which only seemed to bring him exasperation lately. He turned to Aneya, again pale with fear. It was not a proper look on a Brion woman.
“How did you get in here?” he asked, annoyed. The preparation area was supposed to be restricted to anyone he didn’t personally invite there.
“My family can get to most places it wishes,” Aneya said. “I asked them to let me through. I had to see you before you went. Diego, the reinforced bones…”
“Will be no use to him,” he replied tersely, even more furious that she’d doubt him. “Leave, Aneya.”
“No,” she pleaded. “You may die. I just wanted to tell you that I will wait for you. And that I am yours, always.”
That again. Diego sighed, drawing on his last reserves of patience with her. “You are not. Now leave and abandon this foolishness.” Of course, it was difficult to watch her struggle with her emotions, yet he had to be firm. His mood soured, being in the presence of her longing desperation, one he could do nothing about, nor soothe in any fashion.
Then Aneya finally crossed the line. “You are only doing this because you feel protective of her, she is in danger and you are…”#p#分页标题#e#
Diego’s glare silenced her at once. He took a step closer, eyes shooting daggers at her shivering form.
“You are either saying I lie about my bond or that I cannot recognize one,” he said, quiet and deadly. “For all the help you are and for the person I remember you to be, who I hope you still are when you finally come to your senses, I will not kill you where you stand. Get out, and thank the gods I have to kill someone already today, or I would not have been able to stop myself from making you pay for your words.”
Telling her to go usually resulted in her pouting, but this time it brought despair. Aneya sobbed. “You will see,” she said. “There will come a day when you will see. Diego…”
When he turned his back to her, furious and annoyed that she’d ruined his focus with a matter that should have been concluded a long, long time ago, he heard her leave, although her shaky breathing echoed back for several moments.
He belonged to Isolde alone. His life, and if need be – his death.
---
As he walked to the arena, Diego felt calm, as he usually did before a fight. He wasn’t a man to walk into battle unprepared. He felt he had done everything he possibly could have.
The crowds roared above him, up on the balconies and on the seats around the arena. He saw the senators, gathered in force to see two Brion generals battle to death. It wasn’t something that happened every day, after all. This was nothing short of a rarity. The crowds roared his name, but Diego’s heart called to only one.
He had done everything he could. Atren would join Eleya and Isolde in providing protection if needed, and Diego was almost certain it was. Whether he’d win or lose, Eren wasn’t about to let them take his victory. A part of Diego understood. It was not the Brion way to accept defeat, or insult.
And now that he knew who Eleya was – among other things explaining her anger at him and the other generals for letting Eren rip her from their ranks – he’d instructed Atren to extend his protection to her as well. She was not helpless, of course, that would have been a terrible insult, but Eren had Brion generals loyal to him too. A fighting arm would not go to waste.
The rest of their allies were in orbit, keeping an eye on their enemies and holding the defensive line in case someone tried to run. The Triumphant, the Unbroken and the Fearless, under the commands of their seconds, were among them.
And Faren was on his way to the Elders. They could not be awoken with force, but it was possible, in ways that defied Diego’s knowledge, to point out the urgency of matters that called them out of their meditation. Faren would also keep away the senators trying to influence the Elders. There were few generals that would dare to cross him, much less warriors, not to mention senators without military training.
Yes. Diego felt ready for whatever the fight was to bring. It was not the Brion way to despair or fear death. It would come when it was supposed to, neither sooner nor later.
A voice called to him. Over the roar of the crowd, it nearly drowned in its midst, but a single syllable was enough for him to know. Out of the other end of the arena, he saw Crane thump forward. He was as big as Diego remembered.
Isolde stood at the ringside with Eleya and her guards. Her eyes shined in the moonlight with a passion Diego had only rarely seen in them, and never like that. His heart went wild and the combat hormones didn’t help. He barely noticed moving when he was already standing before her, holding her in his arms over the reeling.
Isolde’s soft, gentle hands were in his hair, twisting them as hard as she could, sending sparks of pleasure through Diego’s groin. The absolute worst time to get aroused, but he could not bring himself to break the embrace. Her breath shivered on his neck, tickling in a sweet, maddening way. It was a perfect moment, the eye of the storm and even with all the battle excitement, Diego found himself never wanting to leave it. Only, perhaps, to lift her over the separating edge and take her right there before the crowd.
Isolde was shaking. He couldn’t fault her. To a human, Crane must have looked monstrous. He looked so even to the Brions.