Wexxon the Great Alien Warrior - Juno Wells Page 0,29

created a purple haze out of the corner of my eye, their actions so fast it was like it’d never happened at all.

“Wexxon the Great! Wexxon the Great! Wexxon the Great!”

There was a continuous chant from the crowd as Wexxon and I made our way further into the arena, everyone’s attention seemingly focused on us with his every step. I’d been locked into place at his side, my arm wrapped around his waist for any potential support he might’ve needed. But despite my subtle offering of help, I’d never felt Wexxon lean against me for assistance, not even once, his every step being taken on his own accord.

And when Wexxon and I had made it up toward a dusty, beige gate, he moved away from me completely.

“Wexxon,” I said his name with a small whimper, a small pleading at the back of my throat.

“It is time for us to part, my little warrior.” Wexxon offered me a slight smile. “Will you cheer me on, too?”

“If you die, I’ll never forgive you,” I murmured, my words coming out hard and cold. “If you leave me here alone, I’ll never—”

“I would never do such a thing,” Wexxon interrupted before he placed a soft kiss against my cheek. “I will never leave you, Rachel Waters. And I will never let any harm come to you.”

No, but you will let harm come to yourself.

Which feels like letting harm come to me, too.

I kept those last thoughts to myself, unsure of how to voice just how I was feeling about my impromptu husband in this moment. As I stared over at him, I idly wondered about the side effects of Stockholm Syndrome, if I’d become one of those women who’d somehow bonded with their captors and feared for the day they’d be set free again.

But as Wexxon’s eyes met mine, as something turned warm inside my veins, I couldn’t think of anything besides the child that grew for him inside me.

“You have to win,” I whispered, my hands moving up toward his broad shoulders. “You have to come home.”

“I always do.” Wexxon grinned before he nodded at something or someone behind me. “Ah, there she is. I was worried she wouldn’t make it in time to be seated with you.”

“Very funny, Wexxon.” Palqeet’s voice was suddenly at my side. “I may run late, but I am always on time.”

Palqeet then turned toward me, casually grabbing me by the hand. “Shall we, my little doll? If we don’t take our seats now, we’ll have to stand. And I’d so hate to get blood on my brand new dress.”

“Wexxon—” I started again, but he was already jumping over the gate, his hand hovering over his injured side.

And my heart sank deep into my chest as I wondered if I was going to have to watch Wexxon take his final breath among a chanting crowd.

“Reddin wants him dead.” It was the first thing I said to Palqeet once we took our seats in the arena, high up from the center of it all. Palqeet, as always, had been quite kind to me, treating me to a slew of arena delicacies, offering me the opportunity to try one food after the other. Even now, there was something that reminded me so much of a hotdog but tasted more like spicy tofu held tight in my grip, my eyes locked on the arena below.

“Yes, but what is new?” Palqeet sighed. “I’m sure Reddin has wanted Wexxon dead for quite some time.”

“He sent a child to wound him,” I continued. “Reddin sent a child to wound Wexxon, right before we came to the arena. He wanted to make him weaker during the fight.”

“Well, that is certainly one way to assure a great victory.” Palqeet frowned. “Although, that sounds nothing like the warrior I knew.”

“Did you love him?”

“Did I love who?”

“Reddin,” I specified. “You’ve mentioned him before, and the last time you did, it sounded like you…it just seemed like maybe there was some affection there.”

“…Yes,” Palqeet admitted. “Yes, I did love him. In fact, we were meant to be wed, before the fateful fight with Wexxon that took him away from me. After that…the warrior I’d loved changed. He’d been sweet and kind before. He then became cold and cruel, with no love for me, no love for anyone, left in his eyes.”

Palqeet sighed again before she went on. “You’re lucky, Rachel. You happen to be married to the one warrior who has yet to let the arena change what’s inside