Page 16 of Adtovar (The Alliance Rescue #1)

The pit owner stood in the doorway, short, stubby hands rubbing together almost gleefully.

His two guards, Fric and Frac, flanked him.

They were huge, and while they walked on two legs with two arms, each sported a thick, alligator-like tail, elongated snout, and yellowed fangs.

They could be vicious but, thankfully, now seemed rather bored.

I jumped up, and as if obeying my psychic command, the females moved to stand between the cell door and cot, shielding Adtovar from Bozzo’s view. I had no idea what Bozzo would do if he realized how near death Adtovar had been… how near he still was. I just knew I couldn’t let him find out.

“He’s resting,” I snapped, coming to stand in the doorway, barring Bozzo’s entrance with my best glare.

“I heard he was injured... bleeding.” Bozzo’s beady eyes narrowed, and his skin slicked with goo.

“He got cut,” I admitted. There was no use denying it. Everyone had noticed the blood. No doubt, the guards who carried Adtovar to his cell reported the seriousness of the injury. “It was shallow, though, a couple of stitches, and he’s as good as new.” I lied smoothly.

“I would like to see. Wake him up.” Bozzo ordered, taking a step into the room.

“No.” I held my hand up, placing it on a roll of flesh in his chest area and flinching from the sensation. It felt like touching warm Jello covered in crude oil. “He needs to rest,” I insisted.

A growl rumbled from Bozzo’s lips, although the sound was more like a gassy kitten than anything threatening. “Wake him.”

I didn’t budge. “Adtovar is your guest, isn’t he? Not one of your slaves that you can boss around. He might not appreciate being woken.” I moved closer to Bozzo, breathing through my mouth to escape his fetid scent. “And I certainly won’t be happy.”

I raised a finger, tapping the end to a blob of flesh that sufficed for his nose. “And we’ve gotten along so well lately. You wouldn’t want to do anything to make things... explosive.” My grin was sly. I knew how to make gunpowder now.

“Fine,” Bozzo hissed, taking a full step back, his turd-colored flesh paling. “But I expect him to fight ready tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is resting day,” Emmiait crooned in a sing-song voice. She was right. Thankfully, there would be no fights tomorrow. Adtovar could heal.

Bozzo attempted to growl again. A louder noise, not anywhere near threatening. Fric turned his head to hide a grin.

“He’s going to lose, you know,” Bozzo grinned at me, brownish teeth that looked like they belonged to a baby shark flashing.

“I’ll put my money on Adtovar.” I lifted my chin defiantly and intensified my glare. “And my magic.”

Bozzo blanched and gave me one last pathetic attempt at a stink eye before turning on his heel.

“Do you think he’ll be back?” Meeka asked, when the sound of footsteps finally dissipated.

“No,” Sureeta snorted. “He’s afraid of Maddie.”

“Let’s hope, “I sighed, sinking into the lone chair. It felt even more rickety than the one in my cell.

“Why don’t you go get some rest?” Kysia suggested. “We’ll take turns staying with Adtovar.”

I appreciated the offer, but the idea of leaving Adtovar’s side was as impossible to me as breathing water.

“Thank you.” I grabbed her hand, giving a squeeze. “I’m so grateful for your help... for all of you. But I think I better stay in case his wound opens up. He might need another application of gunpowder.”

“Then I better leave this here,” Emmiait said, laying her precious firestick on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” I caught her gaze, hoping she noticed my deep gratitude. I knew how much her gesture meant.

I let my gaze flicker over each precious face. “It’s almost dinnertime. Why don’t you all go get something to eat?”

Not a single female moved.

“Plus, you can take the opportunity to make everyone believe Adtovar isn’t that badly injured.”

The idea of planting gossip seemed to motivate them.

“You are sure you don’t want us to stay?” Lafalia moved closer to my side. “I will sit with you if you like.”

“You’re still healing.” I patted her cheek. “You need food and rest, too.”

“I’ll check on you later,” Sureeta promised, herding the others toward the door.

It took a couple of minutes for their footsteps to fade, as though they walked slowly, expecting to hear me calling them back at any moment.

Now, alone with my patient, a wave of exhaustion washed over me.

My shoulders sagged under its weight, and I buried my face in my hands, feeling the coolness of my palms against my flushed cheeks.

The room was silent, save for the soft rasp of Adtovar’s breathing and the steady plop of dripping water, each sound amplifying the heavy fatigue that clung to my soul.

I’d pulled him back from the brink of death, but if I couldn’t grant him the time to heal and ensure he stayed out of Bozzo’s clutches in the meantime, what good had all my efforts truly been?

I might put up a good show for Bozzo and the females, but inside, I felt helpless.

As helpless as I felt that night my aunt told me my parents died.

As helpless as that day, I discovered everything I’d worked for was gone, thanks to one man’s lies.

I stood, moving to the bedside, and gently sank down on the narrow cot beside him, taking great care not to jostle his peacefully sleeping form.

His features were strikingly handsome, a serenity resting upon his face that seemed to glow in the dim light of the room.

The thought of how close I came to losing him made my heart squeeze with an intensity that was almost painful.

I wasn’t quite prepared to label the emotions swirling within me regarding Adtovar, but there was undeniably something there—something profound and genuine that stirred my soul.

Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, I leaned closer, allowing myself to indulge in the rich, spicy aroma that clung to him—an intoxicating blend of musk and warmth. The scent evoked images of rugged landscapes and whispered promises of adventure. He smelled alive.

“I almost lost you,” I whispered, letting my fingertips trail along his jaw. “Please don’t ever make me go through that again.”

On a sudden impulse—or perhaps it was not impulse at all, but the realization of a deep-seated desire I had cherished since the very moment I laid eyes on him—I allowed my mouth to press against his.

His lips were unexpectedly soft, like the petals of a delicate flower, and they carried a taste that was both salty and slightly sweet, a tantalizing blend that was utterly delicious.

I let my mouth linger softly against his, not moving, simply savoring the warmth and intimacy of the moment. I could have stayed like this all night, but a faint rustle echoed from the corridor, a sound that signaled a possible interruption. Reluctantly, I drew back, the spell momentarily broken.

Pale blue eyes, like the clear sky just before dusk, gazed up at me, holding a delicate balance of confusion and affection within their depths.

A wave of relief crashed over me, manifesting in a torrent of tears that spilled over my lashes and cascaded down my cheeks.

Adtovar’s warm palm gently cupped my face, his thumb tenderly brushing away the tears with a soothing touch, as if trying to erase the evidence of my overwhelming emotions.

“My hero.” His voice sounded thick and raspy, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, its tones echoing through the small room even as he sank back into unconsciousness.