Wexxon the Great Alien Warrior - Juno Wells Page 0,32

I shrugged, even though the motion sent sharp pains throughout my chest. “Training or not, wounded or not, it did not matter in the end.”

“Do you expect that to stop Reddin’s machinations?” Aldvirion asked before he stood beside me on the slat, his fingers slick with salve. “Do you think anyone or anything is going to stop your brother before he’s killed you?”

“Perhaps I could talk to him,” I murmured. “Perhaps he could be reasoned with—”

“He cannot be reasoned with,” Aldvirion interrupted with a loud sigh. “You will be dead long before your brother will be reasoned with, Wexxon. It’s a waste of your time to even consider it.”

“I’m well aware of what you believe on the matter, Aldvirion. However—”

My words were interrupted by the feel of the salve against my injury, stinging my skin just as harshly as acid. I winced at the pain of it, cursing under my breath, my irritation about the situation growing by the second.

Because Aldvirion was right. Without my brother’s interference, I would’ve never been injured in the arena, the dead young warrior not standing a chance against my years of training and expertise. I then wondered if Aldvirion was correct about the rest of his thoughts, too, that my brother would be willing to end my life if he ever got the opportunity.

“There,” Aldvirion said as he moved away from me, his hands closing shut a bottle of salve. “That should be good enough to numb the pain until we make it back to the castle. You should be able to pretend like you have no injury at all, at least until the bleeding starts again.”

“Thank you, old friend.” I offered him a smile as I rose away from the slat.

But Aldvirion did not return my cheery expression. “…Do you think that he did this on purpose?”

“What? Set a child after me and then one of his trained warriors to kill me?” I lightly chuckled after I spoke. “Yes, I believe every part of Reddin’s plan was done with great intent.”

“But what if he wanted to let you live?” Aldvirion mused. “What if that was his intent? Not to kill you, but to wound you. To force you to admit weakness to the screaming crowd. Maybe even to yourself.”

“…Maybe.” I shrugged again, this time with much less pain. “Or maybe by beheading his warrior, I’ve just foiled my brother’s greatest plan.”

“I hate you,” Rachel murmured, her hands running over my body, only stopping once her fingers reached my wounded side. “Do you have any idea what you just put me through?”

I’d returned to the castle right after my fight in the arena, leaving the venue with Aldvirion as we made our way through the backstreets of the town square. I wasn’t sure just how long I had until my wounds pained me to the point that it was visible on my expression, and I couldn’t stomach the idea of being seen in such an awful state. Thankfully, I’d arranged for Palqeet to escort Rachel back to the castle separately, even though Rachel didn’t seem to appreciate the gesture.

“I’m sorry, my little warrior.” I smiled up at her from my place on the bed. “I thought that you might enjoy the show. There are several Xelxar females and males who enjoy seeing their mate vanquish their enemies in combat.”

“I thought you were going to die.” Her words were stoic as she sank down beside me on the bedsheets. “I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

“Not today, my little warrior.” I murmured as I brought my hand up to her cheek, running my fingers alongside it. “Not ever.”

Rachel then shifted even closer to me before she spoke again. “…Wexxon?”

“Yes, my little warrior?”

“Will you teach me how to fight?”

“What?” I couldn’t stop the chuckle that erupted from my chest. “Why would you ever want to learn something like that? You are mine, you will never set foot inside the arena.”

“Wexxon, I have to be stronger,” she argued. “How am I ever going to live on a planet like Xelxar if I can’t hold my own? I feel like such a liability—”

“Rachel, you are mine to take care of,” I argued right back. “And by telling me that you wish to be stronger, you might as well be saying that you don’t think that I can take care of you.”

“But that’s not what I meant—”

“And yet, that’s how it sounds,” I interrupted her response. “Please. Don’t insult me any further.”

“Wexxon…” Rachel pressed her head against