Broderick lost all traces of amusement. "What do I do if she tries to run away?"
"She won't." He turned his gaze on Shaye and met her rebellious stare. "Will you?"
She buffed her fingernails. "We never agreed on a time frame."
He expelled a hot breath. "Promise me you'll stay here while I fight. If I'm worried about you, I won't be able to concentrate on the sword being swung at me."
She paled, a lovely ice queen. "So. The only thing I get out of this newest bargain is the life of my captor?"
"Contain your excitement. This isn't a dream," he said dryly. "Just...promise me."
Her expression softened ever so slightly. "Fine. I promise. But after the fight..."
Satisfied, he looked to Broderick. "When I return, I want her in the same condition I've left her."
"What about him?" Shaye hiked her thumb in Broderick's direction. "Do you want him in the same condition?"
Valerian fought a grin. "Yes. Please."
The woman at the warrior's side pointed an accusing finger at Shaye. "You're standing too close to my Broderick."
Shaye rolled her eyes. "Sue me."
Broderick puffed up his chest. "Martina is possessive of me, what can I say?"
Valerian crossed his arms over his chest. "Just make sure your Martina keeps her hands off Shaye, as well."
"You mean I won't get to catfight over a man I have no interest in?" Shaye twisted her fists under her eyes. "Tears. Sadness."
"Fine," he said in a mimic of her. "You can catfight her if you desire, but if you break her, I'll owe Broderick another woman."
Broderick nodded. "He would."
Martina hissed at the warrior. "You would let someone hurt me? You wouldn't protect me with your life?"
"Yes?" he said, looking to Valerian for help.
Shaye held up her hands, palms out. "All right. I can admit when I'm wrong, and I was wrong about the pheromone. It can't overcome a bad personality."
Valerian wanted to laugh. He wanted to kiss his woman again. Wanted to luxuriate in her heat and wetness as he tasted her sweetness.
She licked her lips, as if she read his thoughts. "Stop looking at me like that."
"I can't." More important, he didn't want to.
"You must. Get your head out of my pants and into the game."
"Valerian!" A female squeal echoed behind his mate. "You're here!"
His muscles turned to stone. Heading straight toward him? The redhead Joachim had slept with last night. On a mission, she shoved her way through the crowd.
"I came to wish you well." She even shouldered Shaye out of the way, her focus solely on Valerian. "I just heard about the fight and wanted to cheer for you."
He scowled at her, ready to issue a stinging rebuke. Without asking permission, she caressed his bare chest and cupped his backside. He reared back.
She chuckled. "You're even sexier than I remembered. How about a quickie?"
He shook his head. "Our association is now and forever at an end." He used a gentle tone, determined not to inflict unnecessary hurt. "I have a mate now."
Her pink lips dipped into a pout. "So? I want you."
"And I want a pony," Shaye snapped. "We don't always get what we want, do we?"
His first thought: What kind of pony? He would buy her an entire stable full.
She loved pink, and he remembered seeing a pink pony on his last trip through the Outer City.
His second thought: Was she jealous? He wanted her to be jealous. To long to keep him all to herself the way he longed to keep her.
"Valerian?" the redhead said. "I'm fine with you having a mate. She can join us."
First things first. "I'll never be willing to share my mate. With anyone."
"Supposed mate," Shaye interjected, her expression softening.
He frowned at her before continuing. "She's all I want, all I need."
Color flooded her cheeks, and she looked away from him.
The redhead's shoulders drooped, and guilt pricked at him. He should have explained his intensions before he'd bedded the human. Should have made sure they wanted the same thing: momentary pleasure.
"Valerian." Joachim's voice rang out. "I've waited long enough."
Everyone in the arena stopped speaking.
"Then by all means," Valerian replied. Time to push Shaye from his thoughts. "Let's hurry your execution along."
He faced his opponent. Joachim stood in the center of the sandy arena, swinging a spear overhead to loosen his muscles. The metal whistled and zinged, like a war cry. In his other hand, he held a silver shield, two wings embossed on each side. A sword was sheathed in the center.