Page 20 of Adtovar
Of course, she would want to return home. The Trogvyk had snatched her away, torn her from her life into something fearful and unknown. A part of me couldn’t fault her for wanting to go back, while another part of me ached at the mere idea of her departure. Yet, as much as the thought of her absence left a desolate hollow spot in my chest, I would do anything to make her happy.
I placed my fist on my chest. “I give you my vow. I will get you home.” Each word felt like the tip of a dagger piercing my heart.
A smile. That was all it took from her, and my horns itched with an intensity that felt like the march of tiny insects across my skin. I gritted my teeth and ignored the sensation. While I would admit to an attraction toward this beautiful human—I didn’t need itching horns to tell me that—she could not be my mate. Once, the gods had smiled upon me. I received a rare blessing—that of a mate and child. I was not the kind of male whom the gods would choose to favor a second time. The brutality and violence of my time as a gladiator saw to that. I would live the remainder of my life alone, and Maddie would return to Earth. She did not know of the Garoot Healer, which meant she likely had not been altered. And the Alliance returned unaltered humans to Earth if they wished.
She returned to the bed, sitting atop the lumpy mattress with her legs crossed, her posture relaxed. Her hair cascaded around her head in a wild and radiant halo of rich brown curls, each lock coiling and bouncing as though possession of will of its own. Even from across the dim, musty room, her scent called to me, floral and musky, with just a hint of spice.
Most earth females possessed a certain fragile beauty, an undeniable allure that was uniquely their own, but Maddie was extraordinary. Her deep and expressive eyes held stories untold, while her smile, warm and inviting, could light up even the gloomiest of days. Her presence was magnetic, drawing attention not just through physical beauty but through an aura of grace and resilience that I had never found in another creature.
She noticed my stare and cocked her head slightly in question.
“Thank you for the salve,” I blurted, indicating my horns, careful not to scratch. I didn’t want her to realize the salve was worthless for my ailment. There was only one thing that could cure me of this affliction. Something I could never have.
“Anytime,” Maddie grinned, jerking her chin toward where the battered tin sat on the bedside table. “Just promise me I won’t have to fix up anything worse than an itch after your fights.”
I chuckled. The thought of Maddie tending to my wounds was so appealing it almost made the idea of being stabbed once or twice seem worthwhile. “I will endeavor to stay whole.”
We gazed at each other in an awkward silence, our eyes searching for words that seemed to dance just out of reach. It felt as if a thousand unspoken thoughts hovered between us that neither of us knew how to weave into sentences that could bridge the gap.
Finally, Maddie stood, brushing her delicate hands against the rough fabric of her pants. “I need to go check on Lafalia.”
“Of course.” I didn’t move from my perch by the door, instead reaching into my pocket and pulling out the oblong medi-kit. “I have more pain-relieving substrates if needed. They are the blue ones.”
“Thanks.” Maddie took the medi-kit from my hand, and the shift of her fingers made me think she didn’t want us to touch again, skin to skin.
She cleared her throat awkwardly, giving me a shy glance from beneath her lashes. “I’ll see you later.” I watched her walk away, the sashay of her hips as she strode through the door and down the hall as unique and enticing as the rest of her.
For a fleeting moment, the sting of what I perceived as rejection caused my heart to stutter, a sharp pang echoing through my chest. But then, like a gentle breeze dispelling dark clouds, an idea emerged that perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn’t rejection at all.
Did our touching stir her senses in the same way it ignited mine, like a lick of fire dancing across her skin, sending tiny electrical shocks cascading over her body? Did it feel like there was an invisible force, a magnetic pull between us, that irresistibly drew her hands back to my skin, again and again, like moths to a flame?
Was her hesitation to touch me not due to a lack of desire, but rather because, like me, she felt overwhelmed by how much she actually desired it?
I craved the latter, even though knowing there would never be anything more than a few stolen touches between us. I would rescue Maddie and the others, bring them aboard theHistoria, and she would return to Earth.
Burying my desire under duty, I entered my own cell. It was a twin of hers, except the blanket that covered the bed seemed even more threadbare. I stretched out on the narrow cot, feeling the thin, lumpy mattress beneath me. It sagged in places and poked uncomfortably in others, though it wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever slept on. The metal frame creaked slightly as I shifted, its cold, hard surface just barely cushioned by the worn fabric.
I should have gone to the dining hall and not lingered here, waiting for her return, yet I felt utterly powerless to stop myself. Our time together would be brief, a mere whisper in the eons, and would never reach the depth of connection I yearned for. Yet, I was determined to savor every single heartbeat, every fleeting moment, like a rare melody that would linger in my soul long after she was gone.
Chapter 10 – Maddie
Overhead, the clashing sounds of the gladiator fights reverberated through the air. The sharp clang of swords meeting shields, the grunts of exertion, and the roar of the crowd blended into a cacophony that seemed to vibrate the very walls.
I tried not to think about it.
I struggled to push away the gnawing thoughts of Adtovar locked in the heat of battle. I imagined him dodging blows, the sound of clashing steel echoing around him as he fought for his life. The fear of him getting injured, or worse, losing his life, clawed at my mind like a rabid beast.
This was his third fight... four more to go.
At my suggestion, he’d picked Lafalia as his first prize. Thanks to the tools in Adtovar’s medi-kit, she moved around much better, although her face still sported dark purple splotches as well as lingering scars. He’d picked Teenalia as his second prize. Her split lip had almost healed. Today, he would pick Meeka, which meant the three females usually chosen by the most brutal gladiators would be safe.
Adtovar proved himself to be a champion. While he came out of his fights mostly unscathed, he would always sport a shallow cut or two—red marks that slowly morphed into deep bruises. He was not impervious, a fact that made my heart ache every time he stepped into the arena.
I worried about him. Word spread like wildfire among the other gladiators that Adtovar was the sole reason there wouldbe no more female prizes. This revelation simmered beneath the surface, igniting a wave of anger that behaved like a living thing, growing more heated with each whispered conversation and resentful glance cast in Adtovar’s direction. Thankfully, tales of Adtovar’s strength and skill had also spread like wildfire, and most of the gladiators had the sense not to go poking the bear. Though not all. He nearly found himself in a brawl with Melakor in the dining hall the other day.
I rolled onto my side, the creak of the bed frame like the squeal of an angry toddler. The arena diverted most of the power during fight times, leaving the underground dimly lit, though it wasn’t late, probably only mid-afternoon. I let my gaze wander, knowing it would find itself again and again, staring at the door across the corridor. Adtovar’s cell. Despite being neighbors, I barely saw him. Training and fighting consumed most of his time, leaving little for leisurely encounters. Yet at night, when the quiet of sleep consumed the underground, the open cell doors allowed our voices to drift into the shared darkness. We talked late into the night about everything and nothing. I told him about my family, my voodoo ancestors, and my college years. He told him of his life among the stars, meeting his human daughter Willa and their efforts, which thwarted the plot to assassinate Duke Ako.
An enormous cheer from overhead made me jerk and grit my teeth. The noise was thunderous, echoing through the air like a rolling wave. I couldn’t bring myself to attend the fights. All the other females attended, their cheers for Adtovar piercing through the cacophony of voices like sharp arrows. But the idea of watching him fight, knowing the pain he suffered and the blood he shed was for me, no matter how minor—I couldn’t bear the thought of watching it.
