Page 131 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

131

Braveheart

W illow

The sun must be rising. It has erased the blackness of night and is streaming through the tent’s orange fabric.

I’ve woken up every hour to check on Braveheart, touching his forehead to see if his fever has broken, trying to see by the red glow of the drones’ cameras to check on his ankle. It was impossible to see what his flesh looked like by the dim red light, especially under his fur.

In the middle of the night, I checked on Braveheart and whispered in his ear that I wanted him to come back to us as I administered the meds the medic gave us. Then, I reached my arm around him and stroked whatever part of Valor my hand landed on. He was always awake, and always said something sweet to me.

If life were different, if we weren’t in this damnable game, we’d be starting an exciting new relationship. As it is, we’re probably at a dead end. Literally.

How are you doing? he asks.

Happy. Worried. Sad.

Care to explain?

Happy about what happened with you and me last night. I lift on my elbow as I turn on my side to sneak a peek at him. Handsome. I even manage to give him a small smile.

Worried and sad about everything else. I shrug even though it’s not easy in this position.

Braveheart’s golden eyes pop open. I’m certain it’s surprising to wake up in bed with otherworldly orange light streaming in and his two teammates a handspan away.

“Howdy,” I say.

“What?” Is all he manages to croak.

Valor grabs him a bottle of water from his side of the bed as we fill him in on what happened after he went unconscious out in the wilderness. Although he and I don’t have a psychic link like we do with Valor, I don’t need it to feel his reaction to our discussion of last night’s bedroom activities.

It was clear he had feelings for me, and I don’t think I’d hidden my growing attraction to him. By his downcast eyes and downturned lips, he understands he’s now out of the running.

“Let’s look at your ankle,” I say as I flip the blanket off.

Before I can bend to inspect it, Valor’s stern voice invades my thoughts. Naked. You’re naked, Willow.

I certainly am, and by Braveheart’s sharp gasp, it did not escape his notice.

I yank the blanket off all of us, wrap it around me, then both Valor and I lean to take a look.

“Wow,” is all I say. I’ve been in space a while, but I didn’t think anything could heal that fast. It’s still off-color, but not the puffy, shiny black mess I saw when we put him to bed last night.

“How does it feel?” Valor asks.

“Let me see.” Braveheart turns away from me and, after Valor rises, he swings his legs over the bed.

“Easy does it,” I warn. I almost called him “Big Guy,” and only stopped myself at the last moment. Things are tense between the three of us. The easy dynamic we shared has been inexorably changed.

He stands, one hand holding Valor’s forearm as he tests his weight on his injured leg.

“It hurts. I felt worse after the direct hit to the abdomen I took on Chaldea.”

I thought he was going to die, I say as I release the breath I’d been holding. Now he’s standing on it.

“The medic left bandages,” I say. “Let me—”

“Valor can do it,” he cuts in.

Yeah. I guess me kneeling at his feet, my head cock-height, isn’t the smartest move in my playbook.

“Awake!” an AI voice announces through the speakers on our drones. “Awake and assemble at the flagpole in fifteen minutes.”

Braveheart keeps his back to me while I slip into my underwear and a clean crimson coverall. When we’re all dressed, we migrate to the flagpole with the other 90 contestants.

“Let me personally welcome back our viewers. We have exciting things in store for you today. For those of you who chose not to purchase the upgraded Pleasure Package, I’m here to inform you there’s still time. Once you own it, you can play it back at your leisure. Here are a few morsels to whet your appetite.”

Shit.

Tell him not to look, I plead to Valor even as he broadcasts, Don’t look, to both of us.

Too late. Braveheart’s gaze is riveted on one of the screens. Not one of the small drone screens, but the big one. If he looks closely, he can see the little birthmark on my right hip.

He must not be hiding his emotions well, because his drone edges closer. His anguish has provided the network another money shot. Sure, why not show this good male’s obvious implosion on galaxy-wide vid?

“Don’t miss out,” Zedd teases, “and trust me when I say tonight’s festivities will make that look like child’s play.