Alien Prince's Bride: Scifi Alien Romantic Triangle Romance Novel (15 page)

Some were looking at him, as was the Overlord, now standing again. He ignored the temptation to crack a joke. He was just a lucky bastard, stunned by the fact he was still alive.

“Congratulations,” said the Overlord. “You have absolutely outdone yourself. Fighting
gnaour
isn’t something every warrior gets to experience. And I believe it is obvious you deserve to be standing, when even the mightiest can fall.”

Yes. No doubt you expected better from Forial, with the antidote in his veins.

“However,” he went on, making Areon grin under his breath. “Can I ask the only three not trembling from the venom, how exactly you knew?”

All eyes were on them now. Reim, standing a little away from the others, limping slightly from a nasty hit he’d taken earlier from a rampaging
gnaour
. Ronay, very silent after the moment he’d clearly thought would be his last. And Areon, the one with the demon luck.

Reim spoke first. “I saw them,” he said, shrugging. “This morning. One got loose. Lucky break, Overlord.”

Areon was thankful he’d managed to pass that piece of information to his second-in-command that morning too. Otherwise it might have been a bit of a gamble to claim to have seen them. Right now, the Overlord nodded, accepting that explanation – Reim was cunning enough to plausibly sneak past the guards and spy on the arena.

Ronay still said nothing. So it left him, giving his most winning smile to the Overlord.

“I just took every antidote I could get my hands on, just in case, might have been a bad idea because my stomach is killing me.”

That actually got a laugh from the audience. They appreciated him, which was nice. He saw Reim trying hard to hide his smirk. The Overlord gave him a hard look, but eventually he nodded too.

You know, it’s kind of disappointing that it’s the easiest with you
, Areon thought, looking at his former fief lord.
You can’t even entertain the possibility I might be more than I appear to be.

“And you?” the Overlord asked Ronay.

The warrior slowly lifted his eyes, first to Areon, just for a heartbeat, and then to the Overlord.

“Is it a part of the trial to answer?” he calmly asked.

Oooh. Nice. Not winning any points with the Overlord, though.

True enough, the Overlord leaned forward on his podium. “No,” he said and his voice had dropped many degrees.

“Then why would I tell you how I knew?” Ronay asked.

“Courtesy,” said the Overlord and his tone suggested anything but. Areon didn’t know how to signal to the fool that he was making enemies he didn’t need.

Ronay seemed disinterested in that, however. He shrugged. “He told me.”

“Who told you?”

Oh come on, I thought you might be a little more favorably inclined –

“The Prince.”

A hush went through the audience like a breeze. Even the Overlord looked surprised. Areon was frozen in his tracks, waiting very calmly to see what the next words would be, from either of them.

“The Raider Prince told you,” the Overlord repeated.

“Yes.”

“Why?” the Overlord pressed on.

Areon held his breath.

“He’s apparently a great supporter of young love,” Ronay said and there was a knowing smile playing on his lips. The audience laughed again. Areon couldn’t blame them, the tournament really had it all – tricks, trials, love, drama and
gnaour
(must not forget about the
gnaour
).

The Overlord glared.

“Any chance you might point him out for all of us?” he asked, his voice pure venom.

“Oh, he’s sitting right there,” Ronay said, pointing at Sarto, who went paler than snow.

Areon had to bite his lip not to burst out laughing. Looking over to Reim proved he was having the same problem. The Overlord was far from amused, though.

“You are quite insolent,” he said.

Ronay laughed and Areon wondered if everyone else heard how made-up it was.

“I apologize,” he said then. “It’s just the fight that’s still in my blood. I thought I might alleviate the mood a bit.”

The Overlord seemed to accept that response, and the apology. “So did he or did he not warn you?”

“He did,” Ronay said, to the chorus of another murmur. “Everything but the seating was true. He told me. I think he did it for me and Maige, I see no way I could be useful to him in here. But don’t ask me to point him out.”

The Overlord sighed deeply, but once again, nodded. “Very well. I respect your honor in not wanting to give up the man who helped you. I will flush him out myself.”

He raised his voice to address the whole of the tournament. “As I promised, the champions can rest and heal now for the next trial. Before the third trial begins, the
calayas
can give their favor if they want.”

Areon waited along with the others to be led back to the practice area. He hoped there was food there. For sure there would be plenty of antidote to go around.

Out of the corner of his eye, he observed his competitors. The only one to give him a puzzled look was Grom – figured as much. The only one with previous fighting experience with the
gnaour
would know what it took to fight them. For a second he thought Grom might confront him, but the champion shook his head and left him alone for the time being.

In turn, Areon caught Ronay’s gaze. The other warrior nodded to him, solemn and silent, as he’d been before the first trial of the day. He returned it.

After all, the man had done him a huge favor by taking the risk and provoking the Overlord. With his joking about Sarto and the doubtless speculation over the Prince’s true self, Areon’s ride with the
gnaour
was quite forgotten. Not to mention he’d made it sound like the Prince didn’t take the antidote himself. He was safe in anonymity for a while longer.

He ate and drank and let the doctors feed him more of the antidote. Although he had taken it before, his stomach still turned and his hands burned. He wondered how the others bore it, but of course they hadn’t gripped a
gnaour
’s tongue with their bare hands. Grom had taken quite a few hits though, it was a wonder he was still standing.

A real danger
, Areon thought.
I doubt he’ll want me in his service once he learns who I am.

He let his eyes wander over his competitors. No lucky bastards left – some had quit and most were dead, and those alive were not the cuddly type they had been in the arena. They were killers, as they’d proven with Forial. Even Reim and Ronay were killers just like Areon.

Someone tapped on his shoulder. It was a servant of the Overlord, dressed in his colors.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but lady Violet wants to see you.”

Areon felt his heart skip a beat. He nodded and followed her, his breath caught in his lungs.

Oh the humor. I fought four gnaour, not to mention I was almost eaten by two of them. And NOW I’m afraid?
Of that little girl?

Yet she was dangerous, more dangerous than any of the killers he left behind, because she was holding his heart in her tiny palms.

She must have made her choice.
 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Violet thought she might faint.

She’d never been this afraid in her life, not of any warrior, not of her father, not of all the things she was afraid of as a
calaya
. Nothing at all compared to what she felt now, wondering if Areon still wanted her after she’d driven him away –
twice
– and lectured him about how wonderful the Raider Prince was.

Great going
, she thought.
If he laughs in your face, you had it coming.

She was pacing around in one of the rooms set aside for the
calayas
to rest, as if they needed to rest from anything. Yet there it was, blessedly private and empty. Her friends had gladly given her the room, along with the words
live a little
.

She intended to. Violet wanted not to live a little, but a lot. The years she’d spent deluding herself into a fantasy seemed wasted. She’d have given anything to get them back, but in reality, she would have settled for the tournament being gone from her life.

Violet no longer knew what to expect from Areon. She’d been sure about a hundred times that his days were numbered now for sure, only to see him pull off another miraculous escape or something so utterly mind-boggling she couldn’t really comprehend it. She felt like seeing double again.

It didn’t matter, Areon was alive.
That
was important – alive for now.

She’d sent her most trusted servant to fetch the warrior – it was funny to even call him that. As she heard them approach, Violet hastily looked herself over. Her hair was a bit messy from running all the way, but she hardly cared. The dress wasn’t the best she had, but it fit. All in all, it would have to do.

Areon froze on the door.

There was a smile on his lips that Violet didn’t fully understand. Then the moment dragged her into its net and she was lost, hopelessly lost in his eyes – how she’d missed them.

God, it felt good not to try to be deaf to her own thoughts.

She very nearly lunged into his arms and he very nearly caught her. They stopped inches away, staring at each other. Violet thought she might not get a single word over her lips.

Speak!
she ordered herself.
Talk! Let him know! Live!

She didn’t know what she should say.
I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to stay
, or
I’m sorry I told you not to come back
or
I promise I won’t mention the Raider Prince ever again if you just still want me...

She settled for a breathless, “
I want you
.”

Something changed in Areon’s being. Violet couldn’t put her finger on it, but some tension physically left the room. For a moment she felt as if all danger went out the door and she was safe with him. Then she started worrying about Grom and the others again. And the Prince! Somewhere, the Raider Prince still lurked, the famous mercenary who had his eye on her. She choked on her next words.

Areon shook his head, smiling. Was it just her or was his smile kinder than it had been before? It reminded her of the days they’d spent together. She liked that smile.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything is fine now.”

“No it isn’t,” the words burst forth from Violet. “There is another trial! And then the duels, maybe, I don’t know. Grom and Reim. And the Prince is somewhere. And my father doesn’t like you. How is everything fine?”

Her champion smiled even wider. Areon lifted his hand and moved to touch her. Violet backed away, startled.

“You can’t,” she said.

“I already did once,” he reminded her. “Nothing I can do to make it worse.”

“I’m not yours yet,” Violet protested, but it sounded feeble even to her. Her body wasn’t making any more steps to move away. Areon’s smile made her shudder from head to toe.

“You’re mine,” he said, quietly and forcefully, and Violet could have sworn her knees buckled before him. “You’ve always been mine. Everything else is just things that will happen.”

“How do you think you will survive my father’s trials?” she asked, upset that he wasn’t taking it as seriously as she was. “You survived the
gnaour
by accident. The Overlord doesn’t like it when someone makes a fool out of him. If he said no luck, there will be
no luck
.”

Areon took a step further and Violet backed away. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t! And if she was, it was the most delicious kind of fear she’d ever tasted. She swallowed, seeing his eyes flash, a fire for her burning within them.

Her heart beat even faster. God, that man could have put her to her knees with his eyes alone.

“Tell me,” he said, low and dangerous. The voice she’d heard once before. Her world shaking apart from its hinges had apparently been nothing compared to this. Even her soul longed for him. Who
was
that man? Violet felt her double vision coming together slowly. “Do you think I got so far by luck?”

“Grom helped,” she offered. “And you took all the antidotes, which was
really
lucky. And…”

He was smiling again. Smirking, really – a small, amused smirk at the corner of his lips. Maybe it was because he’d usually laughed when around her, but Violet had never seen that smirk before. It was seductive in a way she didn’t dare to think about. She was a
calaya
, no man was supposed to touch her before her victor, but what if it was
her
body that so desperately wanted to touch his? She backed away another step. The warrior – Areon? Really? – followed her. No clumsiness, perfect posture, a born warrior.

Violet shivered again.

“Grom,” said Areon. “Hah. He’s a force of nature, I’ll give him that. And yes, I let him help.”

“You let him? Areon, please,” Violet said. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to die.”

“I will not die.”

“Then stop joking,” she pleaded. “Take this seriously. My father has something in store for the Prince, I know it. I don’t want you to get caught in it.”

A chuckle. “I’m sure the Prince can handle himself. Tell me, Violet, what changed your mind? I thought it was
him
you wanted. I remember you telling me. I remember you telling me yesterday you didn’t want me to win.”

Violet noticed there was something incredibly dangerous in his voice when he said
him
. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for that. The Prince’s name – his title – hung between them no matter what she did.

“I,” she began, “I don’t know.”

Areon’s posture, for a moment, was so feral she backed away one more step. Somewhere behind her, the room ended, in a step or two she’d hit the wall.

“I know it’s you I want,” she hastened to add. “I just don’t know what changed. We were talking, me and the other
calayas
, and I had been watching Maige the whole time, the way she only had Ronay in mind, no one else. I realized I had only watched you, that I only cared if
you
win. I forgot about the Prince, I forgot about everyone else. I just prayed that you’d have your luck with you.”

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