Chapter 173

Luca, I’m horrified to see, is not the same as he was at the beginning of the fight. Gone is the brash young man, all confidence and vigor. Now, as Ben said, all that’s left is the bulldog: grim determination, his jaw set as he moves into the ring.

The Atalaxian, I can see, is likewise changed. He knows he has the advantage now – knows that Luca has quite a literal soft spot in his side. And as they come back together, the Atalaxian goes right for it.

My eyebrows raise, my breath hitching as Luca dodges the fist that the Atalaxian aims directly for his wounded rib, as Luca moves nimbly away and dodges around to his opponent’s side, landing a blow on the Atalaxian’s cheek that makes him stumble back.

As I watch I feel my fingers slip on my bond with Luca, desperate to know how he’s feeling – kind of shocked, really, at how much the emptiness echoes between us now that I’ve closed it off. I hadn’t realized, I guess, how much information I was getting down the bond from him – even when I wasn’t trying to, even when he’s far away.

But the moment that his emotions start to seep through again it’s immediately blinding pain, and I gasp – my knees going a bit weak – and I squeeze my fingers shut.

Luca – how is he doing this? How is he still fighting when his body is in that much agony?

The Atalaxian turns towards him now, working hard to back Luca into the ropes again. I clench my hands under my chin as I watch Luca fight hard to change the flow of the fight, to be on the offense instead of the defense. But the Atalaxian – he’s got his teeth in it now.

Suddenly, the tide shifts again and my mouth falls open in a gasp as I see the Luca shoot out one hell of a punch, connecting directly with the Atalaxian’s already-bloody nose –

But in doing so, Luca left his wounded rib right open.

Which is precisely what the Atalaxian wanted.

The Atalaxian almost smiles as he winds his arm up and punches, hard – bone-shatteringly hard – into Luca’s right side.

I scream as I watch Luca crumple against the pain, dodging his body desperately away from the Atalaxian’s fist, and in doing so dropping his hands –

Dropping his hands away from his face, precisely the opening that the Atalaxian was waiting for all night long.

The blow comes hard, and fast, the Atalaxian’s fist ripping across Luca’s ear and cheek with a sickening smack that sends my mate immediately to the ground.

Everyone in the stadium shouts, and moans, and screams – but I think that mine carries out over them all as I stare at my mate laying senseless on the canvas.

I scream my mate’s name, desperately scared for him, and I’m hanging halfway over the wall of our box in my desperation to get closer. I feel a hand grabbing for my arm, but I smack it away, my nails extending razor-sharp, refusing to be pulled back.

The Atalaxian dodges away from Luca, moving to the center of the ring with his fists still up, like he’s ready to punch Luca down again the moment he stands.

But Luca – he doesn’t stand.

My breath is shallow in my lungs, like I can’t pull it in any deeper, and I can’t see anything – anything else in the world right now except the back of Luca’s head as he lays limp on the mat.

The ref dodges over, looking down at him, demanding that he stand.

But there’s no response from Luca, who lays still.

The ref, to my horror, begins to count.

I look desperately around now, knowing that Luca only has ten seconds –

I look at his uncle, who runs around the ring to shout into Luca’s face, begging him to get up –

I look at his mother, Linda’s arms around Gran’s shoulders, Gran’s face pressed devastated into Linda’s side –

My eyes dart back to Luca now when I see his shoulders twich – can see the desire in him to get up –

“Two!” the ref shouts, his counting too slow as time seems to drift.

And then suddenly I’m moving – without a thought – I can’t help it. My legs are over the wall to the box, and I’m falling the short distance to the seats below us. My heeled shoes hit the ground with a clatter and miraculously don’t break – there are shouts around me as people turn to see what the hell is going on –

“Three!”

But as soon as my people see me rise and start to move towards my mate, they make way, pushing each other aside so that there’s room for me –

Room for me to run – to get to the aisle – to start down towards the ring itself –

“Four!”

I hear my name being shouted behind me – my family – but there’s no time – and it doesn’t matter if it’s not safe –

I’m moving fast, thanks to my wolf instincts and my training at the academy, and I can feel my canines elongating to points in my ferocity as a snarl rips from my lips, because if anyone tries to stop me right now – I’ll rip them to shreds.

“Luca!” I scream, just as the ref shouts “Five!,” counting down the moments until Luca is timed out.

Luca’s uncle spins when he hears my voice behind him, his eyes going wide. I think he says my name in protest, putting out a hand to stop me, but I shove him aside, throwing myself against the side of the ring, desperately trying to scramble into it. I shout Luca’s name again.

“You can’t go in!” I hear Bruce shouting behind me, his hands on my hips, pulling me back. “If you go in, Ariel, he’ll be disqualified!”

Something about that rings sense to me, and I shoot a glance back at Bruce alongside a snarl to make him see that I understand, but then I’m moving again, positioning myself, trying to get as close to Luca as I can.

“Six!” the ref shouts, and I see Luca struggling now – see his eyes fluttering as he tries to pull himself together.

“Luca!” I cry again, my hand pounding on the canvas mat, trying to get his attention as I lean as far in as I can. But it’s not working – he’s not listening to me –

So I do the only thing I can.

I let go of the hold on our bond, and let it all flood me in a moment –

All of Luca’s agony – his pain – his fear – his desperation to get up, to continue fighting, to win –

His weakness, his confusion, and again – again, always – that physical agony that threatens to overwhelm me.

My own eyes flutter back in my head as I’m almost taken down by it.

“Seven!” I can hear the ref’s voice hesitating now as he sees me there – the nation’s Princess – trying to support her mate.

Luca – everything he’s feeling – it’s like a tidal wave, and it threatens to sweep me away.

But it’s not stronger than me – not stronger than everything I have – all my faith, and my strength, and my love – my love for him, my love for our nation, for our people. And I push it all towards Luca, pushing back against that flood of pain, and I give it to him. I let his pain sweep through me, taking all of it, as I push all of my faith and strength towards him.

Oddly, insanely, at this moment, I think of Jackson.

I think of him passing his strength to me during the Examination – that persistent, unyielding strength.

“Eight!”

Because I never, ever thought of what it felt like to him – if he had to take on my agony to give me his strength, if our bond opened both ways.

God, and he never said a thing – when here I am, almost collapsing under the strain.

“Too good,” I murmur, working hard to dig my nails into the mat, to stay conscious.

And as I do, I see Luca’s shoulders raise, see him push himself up, see his eyes lock with mine.

And it’s enough.

I can see it, immediately, as the ref shouts out the ninth count, that this faith – this gift – it’s enough. I watch as Luca gathers himself, as he pushes himself up, getting his feet beneath him. He holds a hand out towards the ref, asking for a moment to catch his breath –

The ref nods, and steps back, and Luca pants as he gets his weight up over his knees, and then pushes himself up, his eyes still locked on mine.

But the count stops.

And I nod, staring at him, my jaw clenched, my nails still dug into the canvas of the mat. Go, I say, directly into his mind. Finish this.

Luca stares at me, hard, and gives me a single nod before turning back to his opponent.

And the stadium – it erupts in noise.

The citizens of moon valley – they scream for him – scream for us – scream for the persistence of Luca’s heart, scream for freedom, and hope, and everything we represent. And inside, my heart sings, and my wolf howls, screaming along with them.

As the crowd roars for him, Luca raises his fists again to eye-level, and as he does I feel something shift in our bond. He takes the pain back – some of it, just enough to keep him sharp. And in exchange, he gives me back some of my faith and passion, along with a great deal of his love.

And then, Luca really begins to fight.