Page 38 of Filthy Royal

Being with Scarlett was everything good, and he was going to do right by her.

He could protect her. Better than anyone.

He would prove her brother wrong. Just like he’d show his family he could be counted on.

Rolling his shoulders back, he shook off the weight of Luc’s words—and signaled to Crex to rejoin him on the training mats for another round.

Fighters couldn’t second-guess. Or allow doubt to creep in. It screwed with response times. Threw off your whole rhythm. Which left you open to mistakes. Then you found yourself in trouble, and before you knew it, you were hit with a sucker punch you never saw coming.

That would not be him.

He and Scarlett had this.

* * *

That night,Damien was pacing the storage room by her sleeping quarters when he finally heard Egan leave and the guards lock her in for the night.

She darted straight into his arms the instant he freed her from the restraints. “Sorry it’s so late.” She pressed kisses to his chest and squeezed him tight. “I missed you.”

He didn’t bother speaking. He wasn’t sure he was calm enough. Instead, he just swooped her up and carried her to another closet he’d discovered that contained a grate with easier access to their secret place.

He’d used the time between the matches and seeing Scarlett to explore—a far smarter expenditure of his time than the fucking and drinking with which most of the other fighters filled their leisure hours.

His heartbeat had almost returned to normal by the time he reached their destination.

He was even able to set her down, though he kept her in his arms, rubbing his chin against the top of her silky head.

Her brother had really pissed him off.

Damien tried to reel himself in. “You had me worried. What happened?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, making his stomach clenched.

“Egan kept me for a private performance with some of the main investors.”

His hands fisted against her back.

“Damien?” She wiggled in his hold.

He loosened his grip. Blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. You okay?” He pulled his shit together enough to avoid being a galaxy-class jerk. He might have been worried, but she’d been forced to dance for those fuckers. “Want me to sneak back to the kitchens and get you some food?”

“No.” She clutched him tighter. “I just want you to hold me.”

“With pleasure.” He reminded himself there were only a few more rotations. But still, he couldn’t help but ask, “Who was there?”

Another hesitation.

This time, he answered for her: “Kadon Stormhart and his family.”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his chest. “And N’gal Verish and his.”

The tournament favorites, though, after the way he’d been winning, cutting through his opponents like they were dark matter, the odds were shifting.

Egan couldn’t be happy about that. Nor was Scarlett’s brother, apparently. Asking around, he’d learned the Consortium Alpha was respected and well-liked.

A fact that only made Luc’s preference for Stormhart all the harder to swallow.

But there was little either Egan or Luc could do about it outright.

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