Her Broken Alpha - Isoellen Page 0,71

Naya, not a man." He moved both his hands to her neck, holding her gently, firmly, and tipped her head back to make her meet his black eyes. "And you gave me your blessing. I can't lose. Not in the pit. They might try to get to you when I'm fighting as a distraction, though. You need to pay close attention to our bond, you hear me? It will tell you what to do."

"How? How can you know that? I can feel you, but—"

"Treasure, close your eyes. Now."

She did.

He took a step back. "Keep your eyes closed. Take a breath."

She obeyed, but her breathing was shortened by her irritation. What was this silly game? They needed to talk about what they would do if he was betrayed while fighting for his life with an unworthy opponent, not play Blind Man’s Bluff.

"Take another breath. Count to ten. Eyes closed now. I want you to do what the bond tells you and find me."

She growled.

"Naya." Her name was a warning. She knew she was entertaining him with her poor attitude, but couldn't help herself. There was no point to this child's game right now.

She took a breath, long and loud, and counted to ten. When she said the last number, it echoed in an empty room.

He'd left.

Keeping her eyes closed was difficult. It went against all her natural impulses. But tucking her chin down, hands outstretched, she took small, shuffling steps forward.

The open doorway was here. She passed through and made her way down the main hall. She took a right, smelling the quiet drones—Sara, Tee, and the girls—who were watching her as she passed them.

Eyes closed, determined to do this, she followed her instinct. It led her back to the office.

Eyes still closed, her hands found Monster standing near the windows. She'd gone right to him. He didn't say anything.

She felt up his shoulders, reaching as high as she could, and then tugged at him until he was bending down. Eyes still closed, she kissed him. Hard. He was the breath to her being and his taste the only water she ever wanted to drink. Opening her mouth, Naya gave him her tongue.

She wanted to crawl up him and into his body where it was hot and safe and amazing.

He kissed her back, a hand in her hair. She heard her name spoken in her head while his mouth was on her.

She gasped and leaned back to look at him.

He smiled at her, a huge grin that changed his face from its normally sharp angles to an expression of mischief.

"You have given me a full bond, Naya. A true bond. Trust it."

Chapter Eighteen

Naya

A grotesque testimony to alpha violence, the fighting pit was housed on the bottom floor of a building originally constructed to hold a peaceful atrium court.

Ringed with balconies, the structure had seven stories of former beauty turned rundown and ugly. Naya recognized the design immediately. It matched her father's scribe's house.

The roof of this building was missing, lost in the Restitution War that had put the Sectors under breed control. There was no garden here, as the original design had intended—just an imposing barbed cage with two grappling breed-men inside.

Flickering light from torches and battery-powered mirror-lamps created moody shadows everywhere.

On the first floor with Monster, Naya could look up at the filled balconies above. The place was packed with drunken, lowlife breeds. They smelled wild and hostile, more untrustworthy males than she had ever seen in her life.

It wasn't just that they were in Sector 2 with its awful reputation. She could smell their taint like a sickness, sour and wrong.

But the most dangerous alpha of them all was at her side.

The fighting men on the center platform were bare-chested and wore the same odd garment the Monster had put on before they came here. Made of leather, it looked like a pleated skirt hanging in eight panels that went to his knees, fastened around his waist with a set of ties.

He called it a kilt, explaining that it was a tradition from the Un. Just a step above naked, it was the way alphas had fought one another in a challenge since the beginning of time.

It fit tight around his thick waist, just hiding the deep V-shaped cut of his lower abdominals. His scars, the rough hair on his chest, and the hills and valleys of his upper body muscles were all on display.

She had not wanted him to leave their chamber wearing that. He’d laughed at her