Page 45 of What Fury Brings
“Yes, but not with you the victor.”
He glared at her, as though she wounded him with the comment.
“We don’t have much time,” she continued. “You gave it your best shot. Now let me help you.”
“What, you want to take my place on the mat?”
“No, I’m not permitted. It’s a bout between you and Athon. But I can give you an edge.”
“How’s that?”
“My cousin thought to one-up me by courting the strongest man in Amarra. She knew I was taking a husband, and she wanted to stay evenly matched without having to leave Amarran soil. But she’s overlooked one very important thing.”
Andrastus looked over her head to glimpse her cousin. “What’s that?”
“Athon ismysoldier, and I know how he fights. So here’s what you’re going to do…”
Sanos turned back to the ring. Sweat mingled with the oil on his skin, both his and Athon’s. It was gross, yet he knew he needed to take Olerra’s words to heart if he was going to win this.
Quit distancing yourself from your opponent. I don’t care if you have an aversion to naked males. You beat him, and you beat him good like you promised. I don’t care if your prick ends up in his face.
Such an eloquent speaker, as always, this princess of Amarra.
Her words were ringing in his head. He hated them because he needed them. He was disappointed in himself for not being able to handle this challenge on his own.
In all fairness, he was naked in front of thousands of women who were whistling at him, and he was covered in enough oil that the entire crowd could lap it up with bread. The weather was warmer than he’d ever experienced. The heat blared on his still-burned shoulders.
Given time, he would adjust to this style of fighting and work his way to the top, as he’d done with every other physical test that came his way.
Not that I’ll be around long enough for that.
Sanos pushed all of it aside. He ignored the sounds of the crowd, the smell of his sweating opponent, and the feel of the too-hot sun on his skin. It was just him and Athon and Olerra’s words in his mind.
“Fight!” the eunuch called, stepping away to give the mat to the two competitors.
Athon will always attack first. He’s spent his whole life trying to outplay the women he’s pitted against. His chances are greater if he attacks first and doesn’t waste any time defending himself. You must be faster. Strike first.
Athon was a big man, so Sanos struck low, getting inside the other man’s guard and kicking at his knee with the ball of his foot.
Athon was sent off-balance.
Get him on the ground as quickly as you can.
Sanos shoved him the rest of the way. Athon went down to the mat.
Once he’s down, you subdue him. Your arms aren’t big enough to do the trick against a man like that. Use your legs, and let go of your sense of modesty, for gods’ sakes.
Sanos looked up for only a split second. He shot Olerra a foul look before he joined the other man on the floor.
Olerra was riveted as she watched Andrastus wrap his thighs around Athon’s throat. He held the position, no matter how Athon tried to slap at him.
She also knew with absolute certainty that her prince was imagining it was her throat that he was squeezing and squeezing. The way his eyes never left hers the whole while was proof of it. His unfaltering gaze warmed her skin, no matter what emotions were behind it. She had his full attention, and there was something undeniably alluring about that.
She watched him watching her, and she made herself relax, leaning back in her seat, laying an arm against the back of it.
The seconds dragged out as Athon continued to try to fight him off. Until finally, the larger man pounded his hand on the mat twice, and the eunuch called the match.
“Princess Olerra’s champion wins!”
