Page 51 of Alpha Gray

He circles me a few times and I can see the hesitance in his eyes. He’s just as competitive as I am, though- there’s no way he’s going to forfeit. Carter lunges at me, and from the moment he makes contact, I fight. I fight through the pain, through the nagging inevitability that I won’t be moving on in the tournament. Every time Carter bumps my leg, the pain is dizzying. Still, I press on. I don’t give up; I give it my all.

By the time Brock calls for the matchup to end I’ve gotten several good blows in, but I know it’s not enough. Even if I had been able to win somehow, my injury is too significant to continue fighting in the next round. It’s hopeless, but at least I tried.

I limp back over to the east side of the arena, shifting and pulling on my shorts with great difficulty. I shrug my tank-top on over my head, and only then do I look down at my right leg to survey the damage. My shin is a mottled blue and purple and the front of it is protruding forward. Something in there is definitely broken.

I glance up to see Gray, Jax, and Brock heading in my direction. They all look concerned and I wince as I try to put weight down on my foot to turn toward them.

Gray slides a hand behind my back, helping to hold me up as Jax crouches down beside my leg to examine my injury. Gray’s touch immediately calms me, soothes me- but when Jax touches my leg, I almost howl in pain, tears stinging my eyes. I bite my lip, forcing them back as I throw an arm over Gray’s shoulder for support and balance on one leg.

“You okay?” Gray murmurs in my ear.

I bite my lip harder and just nod. It’s sweet that he asked, but he and I both know I’m not okay.

Jax rises to his feet, drawing a breath. “It’s broken, we’ll have to set it.”

Damn. The memory of having my wrist set last week floods back to me and I cringe as I recall how setting the bone hurt worse than the actual break.

Brock sighs, tucking his long Jason-Momoa hair behind his ear and leaning in. “Look, you’re not going to be able to fight again today…” he mutters. “We’re gonna have to declare Carter the winner.”

I blow out a breath. The longer I’m standing here, the more my adrenaline is wearing off and the worse pain I feel radiating up from my leg. “I know. I figured.”

Gray starts tracing circles on my back with his fingers, like he’s trying to console me. As shitty as this situation is, I appreciate the gesture and revel in the delightful little sparks his fingertips leave behind.

“It’s a shame it had to end this way,” Brock says, glancing down at my leg, then back up to my face. “Even with a broken leg, you never gave up. That’s a sign of a true warrior.”

His compliment takes me by surprise, but I bask in his praise. Brock’s never really seemed like my biggest fan, so it means even more coming from him.

“Fucking legend,” Jax agrees, beaming. “Now let’s get you off to the infirmary, eh?”

Jax steps toward me, but Gray pulls me closer to his side protectively.

“I’ve got her.” He ducks out from under my arm and stoops down, sliding one arm behind my knees and the other behind my back so he can pick me up. As he lifts me like a bride, my legs swing and I almost cry out in pain, wincing and biting my lip so hard that I almost draw blood. I look up at Gray’s handsome face and he’s just staring at me, his eyes clouded with concern.

“I’m fine,” I breathe, looping my arms around his neck. The warmth of his body against mine soothes me, tapers off the pain.

Gray starts to walk, carrying me, each of his movements careful and precise so he doesn’t jostle my injured leg.

“I’ll be back. Go ahead and start the next matchup,” Gray calls over his shoulder.

I lean my head into his chest and just let him carry me. As badly as my leg hurts and as disappointed as I am to be out of the tournament, Gray taking care of me like this is a decent consolation prize.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Gray

“Hey,” I breathe, leaning against the doorframe of the infirmary.

“Hey yourself.” Fallon grins, swinging her long tan legs over the edge of the cot. She sets her feet on the floor, pushing slowly off of the cot with her arms, testing her strength. A couple of hours have passed since her injury, so the bone in her leg should be healed by now.

After I delivered Fallon to the infirmary earlier, I returned to the arena for the remainder of the tournament. Even though I knew she’d heal, and she was exactly where she needed to be to recuperate, I was distracted from the moment I left her side. Which is a perfect example of why I tried to cut things off with her in the first place- neither of us need distractions right now.

Still, I can’t help myself- I’ve got this magnetic attraction to Fallon that I’m clearly powerless to resist. Maybe it’s time to give up the fight and just let it happen.

I immediately stride across the room in her direction. “Don’t push it,” I warn, but I should know better; the girl’s stubborn as hell and she’s already on her feet, shifting her weight back and forth.

Fallon looks up at me, rolling her eyes. “It’s all better. See?” She hops from one foot to the other, demonstrating, as her ponytail swings behind her. She’s fucking adorable.

I haven’t been able to get the image of her sprawled across my desk, naked and ready, out of my head. I want more of her, all of her. I want to coax those breathy little moans from her lips, watch her writhing underneath me in pleasure as she climaxes, then do it all over again, bringing her to the precipice, pushing her over it, wringing pleasure from her until she can’t take anymore. I want her to bemine.

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