"Move! Just move damn it." Dron admonished himself. Willing his muscles to comply with his wishes.
The tingle is his body was getting stronger but he was still too slow.
Torax raised his axe and tried to cleave Dron in two. There was no real skill to the motions it was all strength and anger. Just as the master of ceremonies had said. The alpha was ruled by his anger.
Dron lifted his leg and kicked the man away. The large alpha didn’t stumble back far but it was enough of a space for Dron to be able to get up and literally run away.
Dron didn’t get far, Draxor was there to cut off his retreat.
Draxor chose a simple sword and shield as his weapons.
He was much more skilled then Torax. He didn’t attack with anger but instead with precision. Draxor swiped and sliced at Dron. Dron raised his mace and used the staff of it to block the blows. Every ti the sword connected with the tal mace the vibrations rattled Dron. He stumbled backward fighting with all he had to stay on his feet.
tal clanged against tal as the other three fighters combated among themselves.
Draxor spun with the grace of a feline before he brought the sword down again. Dron jerked back just in ti for the very tip of Draxor’s sword to carve a divot into Dron’s ill fitted armor.
Draxor roared and swung again. Dron blocked the attack and once again rolled out of the way. Running once again away from danger. Dron knew he wouldn’t be able to do this for much longer.
Now both Torax and Draxor were closing in on him. Both of them looking for a way in. A way to get Dron all to themselves.
The winner of this bout would get their freedom given back to them and it was probably the only reason, Dron was still alive. No one wanted to share the glory. They wanted him all to themselves.
A flash of light was the only warning Dron had before another blade ca whizzing in his direction.
Unfortunately, even the warning wasn’t enough.
The blade lodged with a sickening squelch right between the space where the body armor should have connected with his lower armor.
Dron yelled in pain and grabbed for the hilt of the small dagger that jutted out from his upper hip.
His cries of pain were drowned out by the roar of the crowd. They were getting exactly what they wanted. Violence.
Dron yanked the blade out and could feel the blood trickling from the wound. He was grateful that it didn’t hit anything vital but he knew that he could no longer run. He would have to stand his ground.
He was sure that was exactly what Xaqor wanted. He’d wounded Dron and now he would make his move.
The roar of the crowd was deafening but in the background Dron could hear her. Tempest was screaming for him.
"Dron! Please. Fight! Fight them."
In that split second, he could hear her desperation. The despair and the need.
He chanced a glance in her direction. She was pulling hard away from Prince Jaqen. As if she were trying to get to Dron.
She reached a hand in his direction.
She was fighting for him.
Then as clear as a bell, almost as if her voice silenced the world around him, Dron heard her say it.
"I love you."
Dron blinked a few tis. It felt as if the sun had so how gotten brighter.
Heat flooded his system. His eyes cleared.
She loved him?
He wanted to believe that what she said. Wanted to push away any doubt.
Everything was moving in slow motion and he kept his eyes locked on her.
He focused on her lips as she spoke again. The words clear. She said it again.
"I love you!"
She had said it. She loved him.
The anger flowed through Dron but it wasn’t all that he felt.
That connection.
The sa one he felt the first day he t her, the connection he felt when they shared their first kiss, the connection he had been determined not to acknowledge.
It was in that very mont Dron realized he couldn’t deny it any longer. Tempest was his fated mate.
Not just his wife by contract but the one being in all the galaxy that was ant to be his.
Everyone in this arena was his enemy, everyone but her.
They were trying to make him believe that he didn’t deserve her but who were they to argue with the moon goddess. Who was he?
She belonged with Dron and now he knew it.
Those three words shifted his entire world. The focus was Tempest. Dron would do whatever he had to in order to get back to her. He’d fight through armies and demons to get her back in his arms.
The anti-alpha suppression dication practically evaporated from his system.
Dron knew it wasn’t his doing, it was the fact that he’d accepted his position as Tempest’s fated mate.
Her strength was filtering into him. He’d never felt anything like this before. The power and the certainty.
The absolute determination.
It was a mix of both of them.
He hadn’t taken his eyes of her and ti still seed to be moving in slow motion.
He watched as Tempest’s face dropped. A look of confusion washing over her features. Dron wondered if she could feel it too. The bond between them strengthening with every mont that passed.
The side of his body sizzled with recognition. He didn’t even have to think about what he had to do. He leaned back slowly as another dagger whooshed by him, not making even the slightest contact.
Dron nodded once at Tempest and she smiled softly at him.
It was a private mont.
Shared just between the two of them even though they were surrounded by those who wanted to rip them apart.
Dron knew what he needed to do to get back to her. To get back ho.
He had to get through the four of these fighters. Their death would be on the Prince’s head.
There was only one thing that Dron knew for sure. He would win spectacularly and it would be a testant for anyone else who would ever dare try to co in between he and Tempest.
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