Alien Prince's Bride: Scifi Alien Romantic Triangle Romance Novel (14 page)

“Who then –” Violet began, but Halley cut her off.

“If she doesn’t want to share it with you, let it go. That’s not the point. I know who she likes. I know who I like. I know who
you
like too, Violet, but you refuse to admit it to yourself.”

“The Prince,” said Violet, but her voice said the words as if they were ash in her mouth.

Halley sighed. “Yes. Exactly. Violet, you don’t know who the Prince is, where he is, if he’s even here, you don’t know what he’s really like. Don’t you understand? Maige has a favorite, yes, but she’s not the only one. We all root. We’re just not sure if we can say it out loud. But our favorites are real. Yours is a name.”

“He is real,” was all Violet could think to say, but the words of the other
calaya
had hit something within her. The fury was gone again, replaced with an emptiness she’d never felt before.

“I believe you,” Halley said. “But he’s just as much not real. Not for you. You’ve never met him, or if he really is on the arena, you don’t know where. You just
want
to think he is the one for you.”

“Maybe he is,” Violet argued, but her voice was getting weaker.

“Maybe,” Halley allowed.

They were quiet then. Down on the arena, they had somehow managed to trip a
gnaour
. It squirmed and thrashed, while the other went on the offensive. Violet was afraid her eyes might dry because she didn’t dare to blink for a second. All she could see was Areon dodging impossible strikes of the
gnaour
’s tongue, which knocked another warrior against the arena wall. He slumped down, only to get bitten in the next breath.

They all watched, silent and reverent, at the
gnaour
’s death and the dying around him. Working together, they had
brought it down, but there was only thirty of them left now. Violet watched mutely as Reim walked around the fallen, delivering the mercy of death to those who lay there suffering. The last
gnaour
was creeping along the walls now, afraid but defiant. All the more dangerous for the danger it felt.

“What
did
Irmela say to you?” Halley asked, when the screams had ended for the time being.

Violet did not know what to say.

It was all true, of course – everything that Halley was saying. Other than Maige, Violet knew who her sisters rooted for. She’d seen both of them wince from time to time when the warrior was in danger. If the others didn’t want to share, it was just as well, but something very fundamental had locked into place in her world.

She really, truly was rooting for a mere name. Violet looked at the Prince’s proxy, sitting there amidst the Raiders. Would she have given her favor to him, if it turned out he really was the Prince?

“Her favorite died,” was all she said. Damn, the memory of that conversation still hurt after so many years. She heard the shocked gasps of Lavie and Marelle, but Halley was smiling kindly, more like herself now.

“No he didn’t,” she said.

“What?” Violet asked. “How could you possibly know that?”

“My mother was a
calaya
at the same tournament, as you know. She told me. That’s how she guessed your change had something to do with Irmela. Your mother was very sad when you drifted away from her.”

There was something shaking within her. Violet felt it, felt the world slowly break apart from its hinges.

“Told you what,” she dared to whisper. Dared to hope.

“You think your mother didn’t want the Overlord?” Halley asked. “Violet, she loved him long before the tournament. He was always her favorite.”

“But…”

“She didn’t openly root for him because there were many men who wanted her. It’s
Irmela
. She was a famous beauty, which is why she felt the horrors of the tournament so keenly. She didn’t want the champions to die, thinking she didn’t care at all. Irmela hated everything about the tournaments even back then. Only when a powerful opponent came up as the Overlord’s rival in a duel did Irmela give him her favor. Realizing that if she didn’t do that, he
might have thought she didn’t care. My mother says it was only after that that he became the Overlord.”

Violet wanted to scream. To scream so hard and so loudly that the bubble she’d built around her would burst to a thousand pieces. Difficult questions with misunderstood answers.

“I...” she said. “Oh god.”

“You still have time,” Halley said. “We are
calayas
. There is a lot of beauty in our lives and a lot of danger. Don’t bury yourself before you get to live.”

Tears rolled down Violet’s face. She felt a hand gripping hers and saw Maige putting on a brave smile for her.

“I don’t know how you’ve done it all this time,” she whispered.

Maige gripped her hand tighter. “I don’t either.”

A crash brought their attention from themselves back to the champions.

It seemed the last of the
gnaour
was fed up with them. It roared its defiance at them and stormed the warriors. No amount of fang swords would be enough to slow it down. Its mighty, square head swung left and right, throwing the champions off their feet. Nothing seemed to stop its rampage until Forial, also seemingly unaffected by the venom, cut a deep gash in its hind leg. The
gnaour
bellowed so loudly the arena itself seemed to shake and then turned, limping. The rest of the champions rounded up to face him, but not before the
gnaour
’s tongue swept Forial’s legs from under him. The warrior fell to his knees, looking up only to see the massive jaws of the beast before it bit his head clean off.

Violet winced in horror. She hadn’t liked Forial, but...

The next second everything went wrong. Satisfied with the taste of Atreen blood on its tongue, the mad
gnaour
turned to Ronay. Like a memory repeating itself, the venomous tongue swept out to knock the warrior to his knees. Just like Forial, he looked up and then his gaze snapped unfailingly towards Maige.

Her scream nearly deafened Violet. The hand in hers almost broke her bones. It was the most heart-breaking thing she’d ever heard.

Areon seemed to think so too. Why else would he have stepped between Ronay and the ravenous mouth closing in for a bite?
 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Oh god that stinks. This thing does NOT have good dental hygiene.

In hindsight, it was probably stupid.

Technically, there was an unspoken truce in place and they were supposed to look after each other, however, it was quite something to put his life in such danger for someone else – a rival not to mention.

Areon the bumbling fool was certainly not someone to offer himself up for heroics. The Raider Prince might have been, if subjected to a shrill screaming that shot through the heart like ice.

Everyone heard Maige. There was no point in trying to lower your voice when everything you’d ever wanted was about to be eaten by a bloody
gnaour
. Also, worthy of consideration, Violet looked horrified.

It was weird, that’s what it was – he’d come there with the clear intent to either win Violet for his own or win her anyway and make her pay for breaking his heart. One way or another, the girl was in for a good spanking for her thoughtless words. Yet, there she was, proving to be much more like the girl he remembered and not the girl she was rumored to be. So all at once he wanted to repay the sense of betrayal and never,
ever
hurt a hair on her pretty little head.

Turned out, he was quite a hero in the making.

This is going to be horrible for my reputation once they start figuring things out.

True, because saving Ronay meant being a little more himself than he’d intended to be. Judging by the look on Ronay’s face, it showed.

All that went through his mind in a few seconds, because the
gnaour
certainly wasn’t going to roll over and give him more time for meditating on the emptiness of life or something of the like.

He aimed the fang sword straight between the creature’s own fangs.
There
, it worked, for like a second or two.

“Move!” he yelled at Ronay. The warrior, as stunned as he was, at least had good instincts. He was up and away as quickly as he could, but it was still enough for the
gnaour
to wrap his tongue around Areon.

I swear these things are developing a taste for me.

Finding himself in the same position twice in a few hours’ time was not a fun experience. That
gnaour
was larger – and stronger – than the first one. Planting his feet on the jaws of the beast didn’t help much this time. The pull of the tongue was so powerful Areon feared the creature might pull him in half. The venom seeped into his skin again, now covered in blood and dust and whatever else the arena offered. It seemed that bigger creatures had stronger venom, or maybe his body had already used up the antidote, either way, the paralysis was quicker this time. If it reached his legs, it would be over.

The others made use of the creature’s preoccupation as best they could. Areon just wasn’t sure if they’d be quick enough. Reim certainly knew they had to do it fast, but he couldn’t let it show too much. Which left him to hold on and –

His foot slipped, nearly sending him down the
gnaour
’s throat. No amount of antidote would help him there. The venom would simply eat him up, leaving him a blind and deaf mass of meat – at best. And what kind of best was that?

Damn. That was too close.

No, they were nearing too slowly. He had to kill the
gnaour
himself. Risky, risky, risky, but that was just his chosen life.

Charades and games were fun enough, but they were no use to him in the digestive system of a
gnaour
. Areon gripped the fang sword in his hands and brought it down straight into the
gnaour
’s eye.

As could be expected, the beast didn’t like it.

It roared in fury, throwing his massive, now-bleeding face around. Areon held on, but therein lay the danger – he couldn’t let go or he risked being trampled under the
gnaour
’s feet. However, you had to be
calaya
-born to hold on to a sword hanging from a bucking, thumping
gnaour
. Areon decided to take it as a challenge to his competitors’ wit. Anyone looking at him funnily when he landed wasn’t a fool.

Someone stop this thing
, he thought.
I want to get off.

The
gnaour
had other plans, however. It refused to quiet down, making it practically impossible for any of the champions to even get a stab at him.

It was still up to him, Areon found – nothing to be done about that. He’d chosen, now he had to live with his choice.

The
gnaour
had released him from the bind of his tongue when he jammed the sword in, but it was still slashing at him. The pain it brought every time it connected to his bare skin was unimaginable. Its jaws were snapping at his legs, hoping he’d slip and fall, then he’d be eaten for sure.

Riding around with a wild gnaour is definitely the weirdest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Violet, I hope you’re watching, I will not repeat this performance.

The
gnaour
’s eye was bleeding heavily, slicking his grasp on the sword. Areon sighed, no use delaying the inevitable, he’d be dead in another minute. He shook his shoulders loose and instead of pulling the sword out as he might have, he pushed it deeper in.

That got the
gnaour
to stop and double its efforts to drag him off with that damned tongue. The others closed in with their swords and Areon did his best to buy them time to hit something good. His hands ached from the venom and from maintaining his grip, but he kept pushing. He had no idea what the
gnaour
’s head was filled with, but it didn’t go easily past the eye. His muscles flexed as he had to use his actual strength a bit. He hoped to god no one was paying close attention. He could still play it off as the desperate luck of a dead man, hopefully.

Someone had finally managed to break one of the
gnaour
’s legs, bringing it down heavily. Areon let himself slide off the creature, careful to pull out his sword a bit. He ran away from the dying creature as soon as his feet touched the ground, but in truth Areon wasn’t sure if that saved anything – maybe it did in the eyes of the audience, or perhaps in the eyes of the
calayas
.

The Overlord? Grom? Ronay? Who knew…

While the others finished up the
gnaour
, he walked over to Forial’s headless corpse. It was a grim reminder of what the arena and the champions truly were. Not the friendly bunch they pretended to be at the moment, drenched in
gnaour
blood and sweat, having fought relentlessly for hours. No, they were still rivals. The thing was, quite a few of the warriors could have made it to help Forial, Grom for sure. They were much closer to him than Areon had been to Ronay, but they took their sweet time. It would have been easier too, less risky. They could have merely distracted the beast to let Forial get back on his feet – they did not. Areon stood and watched him, feeling no particular remorse towards the former rival. He hadn’t been a good man or a kind one. He’d been a worthy opponent and that was all.

Now he was a sign of warning that the truce was oh-so-fragile. Areon wondered if Grom would have done the same for him, if he’d been the one in danger – possibly. Who knew? Forial had been a considerable rival; it wasn’t as if he’d been surprised. While he was too far to help, quite a few had been only too happy to be far as well. It was only fair, Forial would have been a threat to them.

The distinct silence ripped him out of his musings. The others were finished with the
gnaour
– all four of them lay dead on the arena floor. Truly, this was a tournament for the history books, if only for the miracle of bringing down four
gnaour
with a hundred men.