Weapons Master Galactic Gladia - Anna Hackett Page 0,51

He held out a water bladder.

Bellamy smiled. “Thank you.” She took a drink.

“You both did amazing work,” Lore said. “You saved a lot of lives.”

“I’m just glad everyone is free and the Edull are gone,” she said.

Lore grabbed her hand. “Once, I was a slave.”

Bellamy gasped. “Really?”

“Yes. I…lost everything.” Sadness moved through Lore’s eyes. “You’ve given these people something precious, I hope you know that.” Lore patted her hand and rose. He nodded at them both, and moved on to offer water to others.

As Maxon watched, Lore crouched by some shaken-looking kids. He held up a hand, flames flickering over his skin.

The kids all oohed, smiles sparking on their tired faces.

“That’s an amazing trick,” Bellamy said.

“His abilities are common in the males of his species,” Maxon told her. “Although, there aren’t many of them left.”

Cries went up in the crowd, and Maxon glanced to the west. He saw a group of tarnids moving closer.

“Who’s that?” Bellamy asked.

“I believe it’s a group from an enclave close to here. The leader is a former slave who’s created a haven for other escaped slaves. Magnus contacted them to come and offer a place to some of the people rescued here.”

The group pulled up and Magnus moved forward to greet the tall woman with long black hair on the lead tarnid. She slid down and clasped Magnus’ arm.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cassana,” Magnus said.

“You too, Imperator.” The woman’s steady gaze moved over the crowd. “You and your people have done good work here today.”

“We’re happy to see the end of the Edull and the arena destroyed.”

Another woman, with a scarf covering her brown hair moved up beside Cassana. Maxon could see the scars down one side of the woman’s face and his gut hardened.

“This is my mate, Lena,” Cassana said.

Magnus nodded at the woman.

“What’s wrong?” Bellamy asked. “You went stiff.”

“Cassana’s mate. Her face is badly scarred. The scars were made from a knife and self-inflicted.”

“What?” Bellamy breathed.

“It’s common for sex slaves to cause their own scarring, to make themselves less attractive.”

“Oh, God.”

Maxon pulled her closer. “She’s free now.”

The woman, Lena, looked over the survivors. Then her gaze locked on Lore, who was still showing off to entertain the kids. The woman stiffened.

Maxon frowned. The woman took several steps toward the gladiator.

“Lena?” Cassana asked with a frown.

Lore lifted his head. He looked at the women and his gaze fell on Lena. The flames on his arm winked out, the color draining from his face. “Yelena?”

“Lore.” Lena pushed her scarf off. Only one side of her face was scarred. The other side bore a striking resemblance to Lore.

The gladiator ran. He scooped Lena off her feet. “I searched for you. For years.”

“Brother.” She cupped his face, a tear running down her scarred cheek.

“You’re alive.” The gladiator buried his face in his sister’s neck and held her tight. “I can’t wait to tell Madeline.”

“Madeline?” Lena murmured.

“My gorgeous mate. Wait until you meet her.”

“Oh, I think I’m going to cry,” Bellamy whispered to Maxon.

He tugged her closer and kissed the top of her head. “I thought you said you don’t cry.”

“I’ve decided happy tears are allowed.”

A ship roared overhead, coming in to land, kicking up sand. Several kids yelped with excitement.

Maxon rose and lifted Bellamy into his arms. “Time for us to leave.”

He carried her to the ship. He thought of Lena, what she must have endured. Once aboard, Bellamy wiggled out of his arms.

“Hey.” She tugged his head down. “I can practically hear your broody thinking. Stop it.”

He grunted.

“We won.” She kissed him.

Then Maxon forgot his worries. Bellamy was soft, warm, and alive. He kissed her back with everything he had, everything he felt.

“Get a room.” Quinn brushed past them, grinning. She was leading several tired kids onto the shuttle.

Bellamy went still and Maxon turned to follow her gaze. There was a dark-haired, pale-skinned boy who looked like a slightly larger version of the boy Bellamy had freed at the Alzen Stables. The boy had the same face and coloring as his brother.

“Hey.” Bellamy touched the boy’s arm lightly. “Are you Zan?”

The boy frowned. “Yes.”

“We met your brother, Calrin. He’s waiting for you at the House of Rone.”

A wave of emotion crossed the boy’s face. “He’s okay?”

“He’s fine,” she assured him.

“We’ll get you both home,” Maxon said.

The boy quivered. “Thank you.”

They all settled in seats, lots of the kids sitting on the floor, and soon, the shuttle lifted off.

Bellamy leaned across Maxon, and he watched as she looked down at the ruins of the arena.