Page 20

Alaysia

The blue silk gown clung to Alaysia’s curves as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, watching Fyret work the crowd below into a frenzy. The private viewing box offered the perfect view, but right now she wished she could be anywhere else.

“Ready for another exciting round of matches?” Marcella asked, standing beside her chair.

Alaysia wanted to throw up. “How can I be, knowing it’s all fixed?”

“Shh.” Marcella glanced around nervously. “Careful what you say up here.”

Below, Fyret’s voice boomed throughout the arena. “Today, we’ll see which of our mighty fighters advance to tomorrow’s championship!”

The crowd roared. Alaysia spotted Dernin among the four semifinalists, his golden scales shimmering under the lights. Her heart skipped looking at him and then immediately clenched with worry.

“I don’t see how he can win when Fyret’s determined to make Bariv the champion,” she whispered.

“Remember, have faith.” Marcella squeezed her shoulder. “Your warrior’s clever. He’s made it this far.”

Alaysia nodded, though her hands still trembled slightly as she smoothed her dress. The crowd’s excitement felt oppressive, pressing in on her from all sides. She caught Dernin’s eye across the arena and managed a small smile, hoping he could see her faith in him despite her fears.

“Five days,” she reminded herself under her breath. “Just five days until the warriors come.”

Alaysia watched as Fyret and the four semifinalists exited into the fighters’ tunnel. The crowd’s excitement dimmed to a low murmur as workers prepared the ring for the first match. Suddenly, she felt like she was going to pass out, her throat tightening.

“Here.” Marcella pressed a cup of water into her hands. “You look like you need this.”

Alaysia sipped, grateful for the coolness against her dry throat. “Thanks.”

The arena filled with cheers as Bariv entered, his slimy skin catching the light. His opponent, a muscular fighter from the outer rings, followed shortly after.

From the first punch, the match’s outcome was painfully obvious. Bariv’s opponent stumbled at specifically timed moments, his normally precise footwork clumsy and erratic. When Bariv landed hits, his opponent dramatically flew backward while Bariv barely flinched from solid connections to his jaw.

“This is ridiculous,” Alaysia hissed. “Are they even trying to make it look real?”

“Careful,” Marcella whispered. “The walls have ears.”

The match dragged on, each moment more insulting than the last. Alaysia’s nails dug crescents into her palms as she watched Bariv’s opponent practically throw himself into a chokehold.

“And we have our first finalist!” the announcer boomed through the arena. “The undefeated champion, Bariv!”

The crowd erupted in cheers while Alaysia’s blood boiled. She stood abruptly, the silk of her gown rustling.

“I can’t watch this anymore.”

“Alaysia,” Marcella cautioned, “you’re expected to stay—”

Reluctantly, Alaysia sank back into her seat. Her hands twisted in her lap as she fought to control her breathing. Dernin needed her here, needed to see her face in the crowd.

“His match is next,” Marcella murmured, touching her shoulder. “You can do this.”

The sand in the ring was smoothed out, the workers clearing away the evidence of Bariv’s farce of a match. Alaysia’s heart pounded as Dernin emerged from the fighters’ tunnel. His opponent, a massive fighter with rippling muscles, followed closely behind.

“That’s Grev,” Marcella whispered. “He’s never lost a match except to Bariv.”

Alaysia’s throat tightened again. “Is he—”

“No. He’s not one of Fyret’s. This will be a real fight.”

The bell rang, and Alaysia leaned forward, her knuckles white against the armrests. Dernin’s movements were calculated. His powerful tail gave him extra reach as he struck. But Grev was faster than his size suggested, dodging the blow and countering with a vicious right hook.

“Come on,” Alaysia whispered, watching Dernin shake off the hit.

The fighters circled each other, trading blows that made Alaysia wince. Neither seemed to have the advantage. Dernin’s tail swept Grev’s feet, but the larger fighter rolled with the movement, coming up swinging.

“He’s wearing himself out,” Marcella observed as Dernin took another hit.

“What?” Alaysia’s voice cracked with worry.

“Watch. Grev’s breathing is heavy. Dernin’s pace is steady.”

Sure enough, Grev’s movements were slowing. Dernin must have noticed too and lunged forward quickly. He landed a series of quick strikes that had his opponent stumbling backward. The crowd roared as Dernin’s tail coiled around Grev’s throat.

“Please,” Alaysia breathed, barely aware she was standing. “Please win.”

Grev struggled, his face turning red as he tried to break free. His legs kicked out, catching Dernin in the ribs. But Dernin held on, his muscles straining as he maintained the hold.

Finally, Grev’s hand slapped the ground three times. The bell rang.

“Dernin is the winner!” the announcer boomed.

Alaysia collapsed back into her chair, tears of relief streaming down her face. Below, Dernin raised his chin in victory and then turned to look directly at her. She pressed her hand to her heart, hoping he could see how proud she was of him.

“He did it,” she whispered. “He’s in the finals.”

Alaysia’s heart raced as she watched Dernin in the ring below, his golden scales gleaming with sweat under the harsh lights.

Blood still trickled from the cut above his eye, but his posture remained proud and strong.

He’d proven himself against one of the toughest fighters in the ring and had done it fairly.

“Look at him,” she breathed, unable to tear her eyes away. “He fought with such honor, such skill.”

Marcella leaned against the railing of their private box. “The way he used his opponent’s strength against him? Brilliant. And did you see how he kept his composure even after taking that hit to the face?”

“He’s incredible.” Alaysia pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her rapid heartbeat through the silk of her gown. Below, Dernin’s powerful tail moved with fluid beauty as he made his way to the edge of the ring. “Not just his fighting style, but his spirit.”

Marcella’s knowing smile made Alaysia’s cheeks warm. “I’ve seen plenty of fighters come through these rings, but something’s different about him. The way he carries himself, how he treats others—even his opponents.”

“He’s a true warrior.” Alaysia watched as Dernin paused at the ring’s edge, his golden eyes finding hers once more. Her breath caught as he gave her a slight nod before disappearing into the fighters’ tunnel.

“And that’s why your heart chose him,” Marcella said softly.

Alaysia turned to her friend, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“After what you told me about your feelings for him?” Marcella raised an eyebrow. “It makes perfect sense. Your heart recognized something special in him—his strength, his honor, his kindness. You don’t often find those qualities in this place or anywhere, for that matter.”

“I just...” Alaysia twisted a strand of her red hair on her finger. “I never expected to feel this way about anyone. Especially not here.”

“The heart wants what it wants.” Marcella squeezed her shoulder. “And yours picked someone worthy of it.”

Alaysia smiled. “He makes me feel safe but not trapped. Protected but not owned. I’ve never experienced that before.”

“Then hold on to that feeling,” Marcella replied softly.

Alaysia soon traced her fingers over the spots where Dernin’s lips had pressed against her knuckles the night before.

The memory sent shivers through her body, warming her from the inside out.

She’d never felt anything like it—the gentle pressure of his kiss, the way his golden eyes had locked with hers, filled with such tenderness and protection.

“You’re doing it again,” Marcella said, interrupting her thoughts.

“What?” Alaysia dropped her hands to her lap, her cheeks flushing.

“Touching your hands and smiling like you’ve got a secret,” Marcella said. “Want to talk about it?”

“He kissed my hands last night. Just... so gentle. Like I was something precious.”

“And?”

“And I realized I love him.” The words fell from her lips. “Not just attraction or gratitude. Real love.” Her voice cracked. “The thought of him getting hurt tomorrow in that ring tears me apart inside.”

“Oh, dear.” Marcella wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve never felt this vulnerable before.” Alaysia leaned into her friend’s embrace. “Is that crazy?”

“No,” Marcella squeezed her shoulders. “That’s love.”

Alaysia closed her eyes, remembering how safe she’d felt in Dernin’s presence. “I want a future with him. A real one, where we can be together openly. Where I don’t have to watch him fight for his life.”

“Hold onto that dream,” Marcella said. “It’ll give you strength for whatever comes next.”