The Cage King (13 page)

T
his must be
how being called to the principal’s office felt.

Not that she’d know firsthand since she’d never stepped foot in a school, but there was a vague sense of dread compounded by exasperation she was put in this place to begin with.

Beylor was in full-on rant, which he’d been doing for several minutes and still looked nowhere near done. “…and I’ll have you know a fighter has never stopped and stepped from the ring! Where the fuck was your mind? I should kick your ass out for that.”

Esh hadn’t spoken since Beylor had started, but now his voice, cool and bored, came through. “Go ahead. Kick me out.”

“Esh,” she protested, though hopefully Beylor assumed it was because of her not wanting him to give up the Tour.

Esh’s look to Nalah said
Let me handle it
, and though rebellion ran strong through her, she shut her mouth and sank into her seat.

After watching her a moment, Esh turned to Beylor. Esh’s voice was low and sure and sharp enough to cut through steel. “Let me get something straight. I’m here for the prize, but I can say fuck you and walk away and not think twice, and if you think I’m going to let some limp-dicked asshole touch my woman and not tear off his face so I can have the
privilege
of being here, you never met me. Now, kick me out of the Tour, or let me recover so I can give a damn good fight this afternoon.”

That was the longest she’d ever heard Esh speak at once, and even she didn’t want to upset him any further and bring that buried wrath in his tone down on her.

And the way Beylor made an abrupt change to his tune, his hands coming up to placate though he strained to keep his voice firm, he must have agreed. “Fine, I can understand. I would never let anyone touch my, ah, Tiffany.” The little stutter before the name didn’t bode well for their long-term relationship, and Nalah hoped Tiffany’s next rich boyfriend was nicer and did legal things. Beylor continued. “But she’s banned from the second match today. I can’t have a repeat.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Esh agreed, and she was about to voice her opinion when he added, “But she’s at the final match.”

Beylor gave a quick nod, probably deciding the final match was safe and that he didn’t want to push Esh again. “Fine.” He turned away, the move obvious dismissal.

Esh led her out and put her on the path towards their temporary home. “Get back to the rooms.” He leaned down and gave her the softest kiss possible, and when he would have pulled away she held on to him.

Something had shifted in the ring. She was the one who helped him, protected him. Because of her training, Esh escaped with little damage.

Giddiness suffused her, had her pressing deeper into the kiss. She had been valuable to him, and in return, he protected her from any consequences. Inside her some heretofore unknown part unfurled, opened up to him, and basked in the glow he provided.

They separated, not easily, but he brought his head back and smiled down at her, a half-smile that still had her heart pounding in that airy way he introduced with the kiss. “We’ll talk, and I might have to thank you too.”

“Damn straight.” And she winked, because she could, and the widening smile on him was everything she’d hoped.

Esh breathed through
his mouth, broken nose useless for the task. Cracked ribs, shoulder that had been dislocated and shoved back into place, stomped on foot… all in all, not too bad for the night.

The roar of the crowd started to penetrate his fight-fueled brain, going in seconds from the light buzzing of a fly to a volume wave that could knock him over if he didn’t take care.

He stood and stretched, and his eyes gave another involuntary once-over of the front seats for Nalah. Not that he wasn’t used to that. Five years apart, and he always looked over the crowd for her.

Well, it worked, didn’t it? It was why he’d seen her that first night.

Beylor came up to him, unearned swagger in his walk. The fuck annoyed him more every time he saw him. Every negative thought he’d ever had about Beylor didn’t add up to the truth of the pissant.

“Excellent show. Will you be well enough to attend the dinner tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.” Great, he got to be on display for the guests. It was supposed to be a night of relaxing before the final fights, but it was a freak show for the rich and powerful to look over the fighting beasts before they bled their last.

Nalah would want to be there. Good chance that Beylor’s blonde would be wearing the ring again. After all, when else would Beylor have a chance to show everyone his victory over the Guild?

Not that he knew what to do even if the woman was wearing the ring. Fucking Guild. For all Nalah’s talk, there wasn’t any plan B he could see. She kept assuring him something had to be planned, but the lines that appeared between her eyebrows when she said the words spoke volumes. Still, all Esh could do at this point was keep moving forward. Outside of a body bag, there was no way he was getting out of the end of the Tour.

Lian kept close to Beylor like always, his beady eyes not leaving Esh for any other. Once things were settled, he and Lian would need to have a discussion with their fists.

From the ring, Esh walked straight to their apartments, doing his damndest to keep any hint of limp out of his gait. He didn’t need Lian or anyone else going for him, thinking he was weak. Yeah, there was the rule of no fighting outside the ring, but strange how easily that could be forgotten by someone when they saw easy prey.

Nalah was sitting on the sofa, once again reading. She glanced up with half-smiling eyes that widened with worry as she took him in. The book was down, she was up, and he was sitting in less time than it took to open his mouth to explain. “I heal fast,” was all he got out before the gauze was brought out and her fingers skimmed over his skin with healing intent.

Touch was always good, and if he had to sit around and accept it, sure, why not?

“This is worse than from your fight with the Skin Dweller.”

He shrugged. “Guy knew how to fight. That thing didn’t, relied on his armor. What is a Skin Dweller, anyway?”

“It’s probably more accurate to call a Skin Dweller an
it
than a
he
, and they’re small league baddies, more a race that follows orders than does anything on their own.”

It was hard to concentrate on mundane conversation when she was so close and smelled of comfort and sunshine. His body still buzzed with adrenaline, and though he was beaten enough it was muted, it along with the promise from that earlier kiss had him ready for other activities. Long experience taught him, though, that until he was patched up, Nalah would not let herself be distracted. “The ring?”

“Yeah. The only question I have is if it’s connected to the evil I’ve been feeling or if it was sent from someone else.”

“I really wish the Guild had given you a clue what was going on. I’m going to have a serious talk with someone.” Her eyebrows rose to her hairline and though she didn’t comment, it was plain what she thought about that possibility. Esh continued with the earlier conversation. “Once I got the armor out of the way, it had no defenses and nothing was left but destroy it.”

A soft, wet cloth was run over his skin, and he stayed still, obeying her to turn this way and that. “Lian give you any grief today?”

“Yeah, he was watching me.”

“I wish I knew what that was about.” Ointment was rubbed into his knuckles, her touch tender and sure. “In our one conversation, the contact said Lian had an obsession with you even before I stirred up trouble, but he didn’t elaborate. Don’t know if he didn’t know or he ran out of time to talk.”

“Don’t worry. Guarantee he’s not the only one. The title brings lots of those types to my door.”

She hummed in vague agreement as her hands continued to work medicine into his skin. The buzz was getting stronger, harder to control. He loved that she wanted to heal him, but right now, healing took second place to getting his hands on her and getting her under him. He needed the taste of her again, wet and ready against his tongue.

She picked up the bandages and started to place them over various cuts. “Beylor took it easy on you.”

Her tone picked up at the end, giving the statement a hint of question, and of course her brain would pick up the talk went smoother than it should. “He wants me as one of his men, spoke about it before the fight. He’s not going to run me out until that’s settled.”

Nalah’s face showed no change, which meant she’d already considered that. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Knew it would happen if I accepted their invitation to come.”

That
caused her head to jerk up, eyes wide with a hint of confusion. “And you came anyway?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes shifted back and forth, like she was reading from an invisible book for answers. “But why?”

The truth of what she was to him still didn’t register with her. He’d hoped that kiss earlier meant it did, but they weren’t quite there yet. “You were going to be here. No way you were coming without me.”

She huffed, grabbing up the supplies and moving to put them away. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a few years now.”

“No, you haven’t.” Before she could interrupt and make a retort, he hurried on. “You’ve been back-up, or you did research. This is different. This is you in the front lines, and not where you should be.”

There was only one area on Nalah that darkened when she blushed, the tips of her ears, and right now they had the red hue that spoke of her embarrassment. “I’ve still been on my own.”

“Don’t take it badly. Doesn’t mean you aren’t brave as hell. Always were, even if you gave me and Jac heart attacks sometimes. You never ran when we told you to run.”

“That’s not fair!” She tossed the basket of supplies on the table and went into her hands-on-hips pose. “I couldn’t live with myself if I ran and you two were hurt. If I could do something, I wanted to be there to do it.”

“We’d rather of been hurt than see you be a human punching bag – or worse.” Memories crowded his head, him and Jac passing a beer and bitching about yet another group beatdown they’d fought through because of Nalah’s mouthy
help
. “We probably got into twice as many fights because of you, cause you wouldn’t run and instead defended us. Took on groups no other dumbasses would’ve.”

“I was so young,” she murmured, gave a small snort of laughter. “I never meant that. Attitude took over when someone insulted my two favorite guys.”

“Fuck it, don’t worry on it. It’s probably why I’m able to fight so well. Good early training and all.”

Nalah smiled, the sun and moon and stars in that smile which contained only the good and no bad from their shared memories. He had to protect that smile. He had to get that ring and get her out of here.

And if once they were out she decided they should separate again? No, fuck that. Wasn’t going to happen. He’d convince her, somehow.

She went to move away, but as she passed he caught her hand and brought the palm to his mouth, placing a small, biting kiss in the center. “Esh, stop that. Your nose is probably broken.”

Definitely broken.
Pain didn’t matter. He’d been through worse before and would be through worse again. “No worries. It’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll do stuff tomorrow.”

He growled and pulled her into his lap. “How about we do stuff now. Kiss and make it better.”

Her hand was gentle as she pushed against his chest in a playful smack. “Oh, is that what I’m doing? Should I go put on a nurse costume?”

Oh hells yeah, once they got away from all this. But for now… He pointed at his nose. Her squinty-eyed glare was not effective when paired with her lips curling up. Finally, she gave a deep, dramatic sigh, and with that, Nalah leaned forward and with the lightest brush possible, touched her lips to the broken nose.

That worked, so next one. He pointed to his shoulder. This time was less hesitation and a bit more pressure, but light enough to express his injuries still worried her.

Changing tactics, he pointed to an area on his chest with no bruises, scrapes, or bloody patches. The squinty-eyed glare was replaced with a half-open mouth, the tongue touching the corner in a gesture that was pure habit and hell on his rising cock.

Her soft mouth descended on the unbroken skin, and Nalah no longer needed direction. For every bruise she found, her tongue came out to run over the skin, leaving a trail of heat behind. She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

“Adorable and fuckable,” he murmured, and her ears went red. “What are you going to kiss next?”

The brush of her palm over his cock. “Does this hurt?”

“So much.” And that was the absolute truth. He was vibrating, anticipation rushing through him in a great wave, leaving him breathless in its wake.

She nibbled her lower lip, the movement reddening her mouth and bringing a groan to his lips. “I think you might be taking advantage of my medical care of you.”

He took her hands and pressed them to his cock through the jeans. Her fingers moulded around him, working him through the fabric, and the sight of those long, dark fingers had sweat beading at his hairline. He needed to see her skin on his. “Never,” he got out, his voice little more than a croak. He cleared his throat. “I just want everything checked.”

Those gorgeous, wondrous fingers undid the zipper, letting his cock spring free, hard and ready for her. His earlier hopes were answered as she curled those fingers around him and gave a long, lazy pull. “No underwear?”

“Didn’t want to slow you down.” Her stroke was feather-light, barely-there, yet to him it was a brand.

She slipped off his lap, her expression sensual and mischievous all at once. Her head dipped, and that pink tongue slipped out, and, oh fuck… She licked him. She licked him like he was an ice cream cone and she’d just discovered the treat. Little licks, but nothing tentative about them. They were sure and often, and the came all around the head, driving him fucking nuts because it was too much and not enough, and she was going to kill him.