Page 31 of Adtovar
I lifted my head and drew a deep breath through my nostrils. The only scents nearby were those of the females. Tilting my head slightly to one side, I attuned my ears to the distant sounds of the arena, the clash of steel and the roar of the crowd echoing faintly in the background. The vibrations carried on the wind told that the day’s last battle still unfolded. No one had witnessed the incident, and we still had time before possible discovery.
I rose to my feet, lifting Maddie along with me. “We need to get Melakor onto the cot and rid the cell of all evidence of your presence.”
Maddie nodded and set about picking up snippets of torn cloth and scattered pale yellow stones stuffing everything in her bag. With a slight grunt, I hoisted Melakor into my arms, feeling the dense, unyielding heaviness that only a lifeless body possessed. Carefully, I laid him on the cot, repositioning his neck to a natural angle before I pulled the blanket over him.
“You think Bozzo will believe Melakor died in his sleep?” Maddie asked incredulously.
“Hopefully,” I told her, as I moved to the door, sussing out our escape route. “Melakor fought Ronco today and while he ultimately won, Ronco got a few good hits in. It wouldn’t be the first time a gladiator returned to his bunk only to die of an unknown internal injury.
“You don’t think Isceilite will know better?” Maddie challenged.
I simply raised my eyebrows in answer. Isceilite, the healer, lay passed out drunk in the staging area when I returned from the arena.
“Point taken,” she mumbled.
Gripping Maddie’s hand firmly in mine, we left Melakor to whatever hell awaited his soul and proceeded down the dimly lit corridor. The air was thick with an uneasy silence, broken only by echoes of fighting from the arena overhead and the muted cheers of those thirsty for blood. Moving at a brisk pace, it took only a few minutes to reach Maddie’s cell.
Maddie closed the door behind me, frowning at the flimsy wooden latch that served as a lock. Her eyes scanned the room until settling on a large stone nestled in the corner. With a look of determination that I didn’t dare interrupt, she hefted the stone, wedging it against the door as extra security.
Turning from her task, the dark eyes met mine and for a moment, we simply stared at each other. Then, with a sound that teetered between a sob and a laugh, she covered the short distance between us in a few quick steps, launching herself into my arms. We clung to each other tightly, allowing the calm stillness of the room to envelop us, soothing the chaos and panic that governed the last few minutes.
“Are you alright?” I asked, my voice thick. Maddie leaned her head back, her dark eyes meeting mine. Although I sensed her injuries were only superficial, I needed the reassurance of hearing it directly from her lips.
A faint smile played on her full lips. “I’m okay thanks to you.”
I let my eyes wander over her, taking in the sight of the deep, purplish bruise blossoming on her cheek, a stark contrast against her otherwise smooth dark skin. Her breasts bore marks of the attack, welts and scratches that marred the otherwise smooth and supple flesh.
“It’s my turn to tend to you,” I murmured, letting my fingertips trail along the edge of her cheek. I regretted killing Melakor as I had. I wished I’d taken longer, made him suffer more.
I gently lifted her in my arms, unwilling to let her take even the few small steps necessary to reach the cot. Her dark eyes followed my every movement as I bustled around, collecting the needed supplies. The soft gurgle of a bowl filling with cool water echoed as I poured from the battered metal pitcher. I gathered a clean cloth and the small tin of healing salve from the makeshift medical kit handing behind the door. Rummaging through my own kit, I found a few items that might help—something to ease her pain and ward off infection.
I eased myself onto the cot beside her, carefully peeling away the tattered remains of her tunic, which hung in shreds from shoulders. Slowly, I dipped a cloth into the bowl of water and washed her, each stroke deliberate and tender, as if wiping away not just the physical remnants of Melakor’s touch but also the haunting memories. My hands moved with a gentle, impersonal grace, even when applying the soothing salve over her breasts, which I adored for their softness and suppleness—one of my favorite parts of her delightful body. Yet today, of all days, Maddie needed a gentle touch, not desire.
She remained silent while I carefully tended to her wounds, her big, dark eyes fixed on me, filled with a mixture of curiosity and trust. The only sound that punctuated the stillness was the occasional heavy sigh that escaped her lips, like a soft, mournful breeze.
Apart from her shredded tunic, Maddie had only one other piece of clothing—a flimsy, threadbare dress. Despite my reluctance to leave her side, even for the briefest moment, I rose, going across the corridor into my own cell and returning moments later with one of my shirts in hand. Maddie lifted herarms as I gently pulled the soft fabric over her head. The shirt enveloped her, hanging loosely and comfortably, three sizes too large so it sufficed for a makeshift dress. I couldn’t help but appreciate the sight of her wrapped in my clothing, a simple yet intimate gesture that seemed to tie us closer together.
I gently tucked her under the worn, faded blanket and sat beside her on the narrow, creaky cot. The dim light filtering from overhead cast soft shadows across her face, highlighting her exhaustion and vulnerability. I finally surrendered to the question that had been relentlessly echoing in my mind ever since I stumbled upon her on the verge of being violated by Melakor.
“Why were you in the gladiator quarters?”
Maddie’s expression flashed with regret. She reached over, snagging the bag she’d left lying on the bedside table, and pulled out a small yellow crystal.
“For this. It’s a sulfur crystal, the last ingredient needed to make gunpowder.”
Gunpowder. The gritty substance she had used to cauterize my wound.“You think I’m going to need saving again?” I teased, running my fingers over the faint pink line etched across my chest. The wound, now a mere whisper of the injury, didn’t bother me at all, except for an occasional itch. My horns didn’t itch anymore either—a change that came with the acceptance of Maddie as my mate. Acknowledging her had somehow eased the tension, transforming irritation into a serene calm.
“Maybe.” Maddie lay back on the cot, her dark eyes watching me intently. “You know there are rumors Bozzo is bringing in a ringer for your last fight?”
“So, I’ve heard.” Rumors in the pit had Bozzo bringing in every creature from arymatto adulozgo, but nothing that gave me pause.
She captured the hand I had laying on my chest, her fingers entwining in mine. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
“You can’t promise that,” Maddie huffed, shifting into a sitting position. “We don’t know what will happen. Just like I didn’t know that Melakor....” Her voice trailed off as an angry frown creased her features. “I want to be ready, no matter what Bozzo throws at us.”
“We will be,” I soothed, gently pressing her back against the mattress. She acquiesced without a hint of struggle. “But now, you need rest.”
