Page 68 of Alien Protector's Mate

S’aad moved with grace and power, his attacks calculated and efficient. In contrast, M’lak was all raw aggression, his strikes just as powerful but far less controlled. The difference in their fighting styles was clear…skill versus brute force.

Scarlet splattered across the floor as first blood was drawn. M’lak hissed as he drew back, favoring his arm. A thin red line cut across the skin. She couldn’t look away from the stain on the floor, her stomach churning.

“It’s alright,” Naomi murmured, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “S’aad’s an experienced warrior. He knows what he’s doing.”

She nodded, clinging to that reassurance like a lifeline. He had to win. The alternative was unthinkable. She couldn’t bear the thought of them giving her to M’lak. She knew without asking that it would be a nightmare, one much worse than the abuse the Morgans had meted out.

For a while, it seemed like S’aad had the upper hand. She held her breath during a couple of close calls, her heart leaping into her throat each time a blade came too close to S’aad.

Then in a heartbeat, everything changed.

M’lak’s blade found its mark, slicing across S’aad’s arm. M’lak danced back, a shit-eating grin spreading over his face. Something about that expression struck a chill through her heart, and her gaze snapped to S’aad.

It was a minor wound, no bigger than the one he’d inflicted on M’lak, but within seconds, S’aad’s movements became sluggish. Her stomach hardened in horror as his face paled, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“No,” she whispered and looked at Naomi. “What’s happened? What’s wrong with him?”

One of the warriors who had surrounded S’aad before he’d begun to fight stepped forward, hissing, “Poison!”

The room erupted again. The warriors who had been silently observing the fight before began to shout, voices raised in anger and disbelief.

“This is an outrage!” Z’yan bellowed, his face contorted with fury. “The fight must be stopped immediately!”

Other voices joined in, a chorus of protest. Even Naomi called out to her mate. “Rohn! You have to do something!”

Prince Rohn’s face was a mask of concern, but before he could speak, L’arr stepped forward. The older Latharian’s voice cut through the noise like a knife.

“Quieten down. Nothing in our laws prohibits the use of poison in a challenge fight,” he declared, smug satisfaction ringing in his tone. “If V’Renn wasn’t skilled enough to avoid the cut, by the laws, M’lak has won fairly.”

It felt like the ground had been whipped away beneath her feet. This couldn’t be happening. It was a nightmare. It had to be. She’d wake up in any moment, safe and sound in bed, in S’aad’s arms.

“Please,” she moaned.

Shehadto wake up.

But she didn’t. Instead, she stood as if her feet were rooted to the floor as S’aad stumbled a few steps. His face contorted in pain, and she watched the struggle in his eyes as he fought against the poison’s effects. His movements became more uncoordinated with each passing second.

She gasped as he collapsed to the floor. With a strangled cry, she lunged forward, desperate to reach him, but Naomi grabbed her, wrapping her arms around her to stop her.

“Let me go!” she pleaded, her voice raw with desperation as she struggled against Naomi’s hold. “He needs help! Please!”

M’lak strutted around room, showboating for his group of supporters and basking in his victory. The rest of the gathered warriors watched in stony silence, disgust in their eyes. She didn’t need to know much about the Latharian culture to know what M’lak had done wasn’t condoned. She could see the barely contained rage in their expressions as well as the way their hands twitched toward their own weapons.

“Someone has to help him!” she told them. “Please, he’s dying!” She could see S’aad’s chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing labored. Each second that passed felt like an eternity, each moment bringing him closer to death.

Z’yan appeared at her side, his expression grave.

“I’m sorry, Jade,” he said softly. “But no one can enter the circle until either S’aad or M’lak is dead. Those are the rules of the challenge.”

M’lak swaggered over, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He reached for her, but Z’yan stepped between them. She recoiled, pressing herself back against the solid warmth and security of Naomi’s hold. There was no way she wanted M’lak to touch her. Ever.

“Not so fast,” the big station security chief growled. “She doesn’t belong to you while S’aad still draws breath.”

M’lak’s face twisted in annoyance, but he shrugged it off quickly. Leaning around Z’yan, he blew another kiss at her.

“Don’t worry, love,” he said, his voice sickly sweet. “I’ll be right back. Just need to take care of one little thing.”

Her world slowed as he turned around, heading toward S’aad on the floor. He would kill him. She just knew he would, and her heart froze right there in her chest as she watched, unable to do anything to save the man she loved.

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