Page 120 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Thorin

Any progress I’d made today with my leg had been annihilated.

Standing here in the wreckage that my loss of control had created, my leg was one fiery column of pain.

The only thing holding me up right now was the fact that Camila was standing perfectly still at my back, her hands on my shoulders.

I could feel each individual point of contact her ten fingers made against my skin, just as I could feel each scratch and bruise on my body.

Deep shame filled me at what had happened here.

If Kitan hadn’t shifted to his hybrid form, I would have hurt him badly.

I’d forced him to take refuge in his fighting form, and he’d risked harming me instead.

In hybrid form, his instincts would have been far harder to control.

If I’d pushed him too far, he would have pushed back, with irreparable results, most likely.

I didn’t know how Camila had gotten here, I just knew that if she hadn’t arrived when she did, things would have gone south fast. I had no recollection of much beyond that moment when the red haze had descended.

Vaguely, I recalled Ziame and Camila struggling as the penetrating factor through that fog.

I’d responded not by attacking, but by hauling her to safety.

I knew what that meant—what all of this meant now—but I struggled to wrap my head around it.

When her hands, with their trigger-finger calluses, started to slide off my skin, I said, “Don’t.

” She froze and remained as she was, the soft warmth of her brushing against my rapidly cooling skin.

My voice was like gravel when I forced more words out: “I’m sorry I hit you.

The same thing happened then as it did now—a haze of anger.

I lost control. I’ve lost control twice now. It’s inexcusable.”

Instead of lifting her hands off my back this time, she slid them down the sides of my arms until she reached my hands. When she wove her fingers through mine, something hard lodged itself in my throat, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to speak past it.

She was breathing slowly, her measured breaths something I focused on to bring the deep well of emotion in my chest back under some semblance of control.

When she spoke, my ears prickled, and I wanted to turn around and watch her lips move.

That was a better emotion to focus on—easier, the lust—but I knew she wouldn’t let me. It wouldn’t be right.

“From the little I’ve been told about what all of you have been through…

” she was saying gently, “it stands to reason that you have some unresolved issues. Maybe what you’re dealing with is PTSD.

It can result in unexpected bursts of anger—rage—especially around triggers.

And we—I—” she said the last and swallowed audibly, “I have been tripping one such trigger hard for you, haven’t I? ”

I forced myself to nod; Drameil was one hell of a trigger.

But it infuriated me that I responded so much more to it than the others.

Kitan had been in Drameil’s stables just as long as I had, and Ziame had been treated as if he were some prized animal, not a sentient being.

They were fine; they didn’t respond like this.

And what about Jakar and Fierce? They had never been free—they’d been mistreated their entire lives—and they weren’t acting crazy. Just me. I was the weak one.

Letting go of one of my hands, she slid around me, but I kept my chin raised, staring over her at the far wall.

“I don’t see them rampaging around. Did you?

” I said. I needed very badly to take the weight off my damn leg, but I couldn’t make myself move and break this moment.

I was done taking the easy way out on this.

If Camila was still here, talking to me, then talk we would.

She made a snorting sound, her eyes trailing over my chest, where an alarming number of bruises and scratches had gathered.

My ribs were aching something fierce, not quite broken, but at least a little cracked.

From the frown on her face, she wasn’t happy at the sight of the injuries, which sent a little thrill curling through my body and chased away some of the darker thoughts swirling through my head.

“Just because you haven’t noticed doesn’t mean they don’t have scars. Nobody responds the exact same way to trauma, Thorin. Just because what’s happened has made you angry doesn’t make you any less.”

Dropping my gaze to meet her eyes, I noticed a fierce glint in them.

She wasn’t scared of me. She wasn’t backing down, and now that my head had cooled, I could better remember that Ziame had tried to stop this hell-hound from diving between Kitan and me.

She’d risked getting hurt or killed to stop me from self-destructing.

She was either incredibly stupid or very, very brave.

I was opting for the latter, but the jury was still out.

“Who made you so wise?” I asked daringly. I lifted my free hand and tugged on her long braid, holding onto it like it was a lifeline when she didn’t pull away.

“I have five older siblings, with over twenty kids between them by now. I’ve played auntie to all of them. Trust me, you can only listen to so many angsty teenagers before you wise up.”

Her mouth pulled into an enchantingly cute smile, which I wanted very much to nibble on. Keeping my thoughts in check, though, I tried for a smirk. “Are you comparing me to an angsty teenager, Camila?” I let a lick of command fill my tone, as if I were demanding the honest truth.

Her cheeks went dark, her eyes heating up.

“I guess I am.” But she sobered. “Look, your captain has a mate to share his burdens with. He’s not dealing with things alone.

And, uh, if I understand it right, didn’t you have nearly the same confrontation with that fox guy recently, only reversed?

Now he has a mate too. Of course, that makes it easier, when you find happiness. ”

I could only nod, that was true. I’d always had a fantastic example in my own parents.

Growing up, they’d been rock solid through thick and thin.

Even when they occasionally fought, they always made up.

That’s what I’d aspired to have one day: make my career as a police detective and find that perfect Elrohirian mate.

Only things hadn’t turned out that way. Letting go of her braid, I touched the medallion dangling from my Caratan.

It was a familiar weight hanging from the chain.

I’d been angry ever since my banishment from Elrohira. I’d found strength in it, found it the easiest way to cope with the shit hand I’d been dealt. But it wasn’t helping me now. I needed to figure out a way to let things go.

“We should get you to the Doc. Those scratches need to be treated,” Camila murmured.

When she pulled on my hand, I froze in place.

I hated doctors, I hated anything medical.

If I could avoid it, I would never visit that damn med bay.

But I struggled to put those irrational fears into words.

It was another trigger, as she had called it.

“I don’t need the doc. I’ll be fine…” I said, and she interrupted me with an eye roll.

“Yeah, I heard that last time, fine by tomorrow right?” she huffed, as if she didn’t believe me—as well she shouldn’t. Cracked ribs were a little more serious than a single night’s rest. But I knew my body. I would mend on my own.

“Thorin, you’re just a glutton for punishment, are you?

” she said. Her hand was already pulling on mine, and I lumbered into motion, barely suppressing a grunt of pain at the agony spiking through my leg.

It was enough to sober me, if just a little.

Hadn’t I been thinking exactly the opposite?

That I wasn’t? It derailed me enough not to notice, initially, that she was guiding me towards the lift that would spit us out near the med bay.

When I did notice, I pulled her to a stop.

“I don’t need the med bay,” I told her firmly.

Sending her a flirty grin, I added, “What I need is you in my bunk for a few hours. That will definitely make me feel better.” Lust was always easy; it would be great to lose myself in her for a few hours.

I could think about things later. When my head wasn’t quite as much of a mess.

Her eyes went sharp and flinty, her luscious mouth pursing.

“I don’t think so. Don’t distract me.” I took that as a good sign, distracted by the thought of us together in my bunk.

Yeah, I could work that to my advantage.

Especially as I noticed the flutter of her pulse at her throat and the faint scent of her sweet arousal.

“We’re going to the med bay,” she stated firmly, but then she froze, as if she’d read something on my face that I didn’t want her to see.

Like the blind panic I felt at anything medical-related.

Lowering my brows into a fierce frown was automatic, my lips curling into a derisive smirk.

In response, she stared back, undaunted, tilting her head to the side a little.

“Look, let’s make a deal,” she told me, and then something mischievous crept into her expression, something wholly unexpected.

“You go to the med bay with me, and I’ll consider having sex with you. ”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise, even as a hard burst of arousal shot straight to my groin.

She was serious, and so deliciously blunt about it.

I had agreed before I could properly think about it, but she rose on tiptoe and pressed soft lips against the bottom of my chin, derailing me further.

“To seal the deal.” Ah… No, she wasn’t getting away like that.

As she turned to pull me into the lift, I grabbed her braid and pulled back, not too hard, just enough to get her attention.