Page 72 of Alien Prince Fake Fiancé

The spectators grew silent, the air heavy with unease and dread. Shadows lingered in the corners, the only sounds the squeal and clang of metal against metal.

C’Nar’s rage flared brighter with every contact, his face a twisted mask of hatred. They clashed again and again, each strike more brutal than the last. They were both highly skilled fighters. Neither would get an easy victory. Finally, Zade saw an opening and twisted to the side, slashing backwards, scoring the first cut.

C’Nar staggered and retreated, a silent snarl on his lips. Zade pressed his advantage, struck hard and fast, scoring another blow before C’Nar rolled completely out of range and regained his footing.

Zade waited, ready for the attack he knew was coming, eyes steady on his opponent.

C'Nar lunged, moved faster than Zade anticipated. The poisoned tip nicked his thigh. The cut immediately began to throb, the pain increasing with each passing moment.

C'Nar smiled twistedly, his eyes full of malice as he circled Zade, looking for another opportunity to strike, waiting for the poison to spread.

Zade’s muscles began to burn, and he broke out in an unnatural, cold sweat. Rather than retreat, he grit his teeth against the pain and advanced, his blades moving so fast theywere almost a blur. He focused on the next block, the next strike, the next step, until C’Nar stumbled in the shifting sand and dropped his blades in an effort to catch himself.

C’Nar scrambled wildly, stabbing his hands into the undulating sand, searching, seeking the deadly blades. An inhuman battle cry ripped from his throat as he launched himself at Zade, spraying a shower of sand up as he swiped one blade viciously upward, death in his eyes.

Prepared this time, Zade ducked and swung in one fluid motion, lashing out with a barrage of lightning-fast strokes.

C’Nar crumpled, dead before he hit the ground.

The crowd erupted in whoops and hollers.

The sand settled.

The fight was over.

Ashlyn couldn’t wait another second. She jumped up from her seat, uncaring of who she had to push or shove to get to Zade. He was hurt, but he was alive, and that’s all that mattered.

Eyes brimming with tears, she ran across the arena into his waiting arms, the momentum taking them both to the ground.

Half laughing, half crying, she showered him with kisses. “You’re not dead. Cam said those blades were poisoned. I was so scared,” she blubbered.

“You should know, we Saltrec are harder to kill than that.” He groaned as the pain in his wounds intensified, the poison spreading quickly. “You were supposed to be thinking about what I’m going to do,” he gritted his teeth against the fire spreading to every cell in his body, “to make you beg.” He groaned again, his eyes bright with fever. He coughed, tiny droplets of blood spattering the sand.

“Oh, shut up.” She tried, unsuccessfully, to rip her clothing into bandage strips. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“Shenga. What are you doing?”

“You are not allowed to die,” she huffed, “not after all we’ve been through, so just shut up and let me doctor you.”

“As..,” he rasped, coughing up more blood, “as you wish.”

From slightly behind and to the side of them, Ocliver held out a hand. In it was a small vial. “Make him drink this.”

“Get away from us, you bastard. This is all your fault!” Ashlyn raged, not bothering to look in his direction, her movements frantic. Zade was fading right in front of her. She gave up trying to rip her blouse and settled for applying pressure to the wound.No! No! No! Not again!

A sudden sense of suffocation stalled her progress. She covered her mouth with her sleeve and coughed. When she lowered her arm, her sleeve was covered in blood.What the hell?

Bren’s words drifted back to her. ‘You will live together or die together.’

She glanced at her sleeve, then turned frightened eyes back to Zade. He wasn’t dying. They were dying. Both of them. Together. Her heart skipped a beat. Slammed in her chest. Raced. Sputtered.

“Princess Ashlyn, if you want to live, you will take a sip from this vial and force him to drink the rest.” Ocliver sank down next to Ashlyn and held out the vial. “Do it now, or it will be too late for both of you.”

In slow motion, she tore her gaze from Zade and looked at the vial, then into Ocliver’s dead eyes. “I don’t understand,” she rasped. “You hate us. You…win.”

“No child,” he said, his tone urgent. Grave. “I have waited thousands of years for someone like you. Now drink.”

Zade used the last of his strength to sit up and reach for the vial.

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