Valerian fought a grin. “Yes. Please.”
The woman at the warrior’s side pointed an accusing finger at Shaye. “You’re standing too close to my Broderick.”
Shaye rolled her eyes. “Sue me.”
Broderick puffed up his chest. “Martina is possessive of me, what can I say?”
Valerian crossed his arms over his chest. “Just make sure your Martina keeps her hands off Shaye, as well.”
“You mean I won’t get to catfight over a man I have no interest in?” Shaye twisted her fists under her eyes. “Tears. Sadness.”
“Fine,” he said in a mimic of her. “You can catfight her if you desire, but if you break her, I’ll owe Broderick another woman.”
Broderick nodded. “He would.”
Martina hissed at the warrior. “You would let someone hurt me? You wouldn’t protect me with your life?”
“Yes?” he said, looking to Valerian for help.
Shaye held up her hands, palms out. “All right. I can admit when I’m wrong, and I was wrong about the pheromone. It can’t overcome a bad personality.”
Valerian wanted to laugh. He wanted to kiss his woman again. Wanted to luxuriate in her heat and wetness as he tasted her sweetness.
She licked her lips, as if she read his thoughts. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“I can’t.” More important, he didn’t want to.
“You must. Get your head out of my pants and into the game.”
“Valerian!” A female squeal echoed behind his mate. “You’re here!”
His muscles turned to stone. Heading straight toward him? The redhead Joachim had slept with last night. On a mission, she shoved her way through the crowd.
“I came to wish you well.” She even shouldered Shaye out of the way, her focus solely on Valerian. “I just heard about the fight and wanted to cheer for you.”
He scowled at her, ready to issue a stinging rebuke. Without asking permission, she caressed his bare chest and cupped his backside. He reared back.
She chuckled. “You’re even sexier than I remembered. How about a quickie?”
He shook his head. “Our association is now and forever at an end.” He used a gentle tone, determined not to inflict unnecessary hurt. “I have a mate now.”
Her pink lips dipped into a pout. “So? I want you.”
“And I want a pony,” Shaye snapped. “We don’t always get what we want, do we?”
His first thought: What kind of pony? He would buy her an entire stable full.
She loved pink, and he remembered seeing a pink pony on his last trip through the Outer City.
His second thought: Was she jealous? He wanted her to be jealous. To long to keep him all to herself the way he longed to keep her.
“Valerian?” the redhead said. “I’m fine with you having a mate. She can join us.”
First things first. “I’ll never be willing to share my mate. With anyone.”
“Supposed mate,” Shaye interjected, her expression softening.
He frowned at her before continuing. “She’s all I want, all I need.”
Color flooded her cheeks, and she looked away from him.
The redhead’s shoulders drooped, and guilt pricked at him. He should have explained his intensions before he’d bedded the human. Should have made sure they wanted the same thing: momentary pleasure.
“Valerian.” Joachim’s voice rang out. “I’ve waited long enough.”
Everyone in the arena stopped speaking.
“Then by all means,” Valerian replied. Time to push Shaye from his thoughts. “Let’s hurry your execution along.”
He faced his opponent. Joachim stood in the center of the sandy arena, swinging a spear overhead to loosen his muscles. The metal whistled and zinged, like a war cry. In his other hand, he held a silver shield, two wings embossed on each side. A sword was sheathed in the center.
Joachim slid his helmet in place, his armor glinting in the light.
Valerian held his hand out, and Broderick slapped a spear into his grip. He felt its familiar weight and nodded.
Next Broderick handed him a shield of his own.
In the center rested the Skull. With it, Joachim would die, guaranteed. What Valerian had thought he wanted only seconds ago. Faced with such an inevitable outcome, his fury wrestled with uncertainty.
He returned the shield. “Replace the Skull with one of my training blades.”
“My lord.” Broderick gaped at him. “You’ve never—”
“Do it.” Joachim could be killed any day. But if he died today, Valerian could never bring him back.
As his cousin had pronounced earlier, they had been friends as children. The best of friends. Only when Poseidon had given Valerian’s father the crown had Joachim’s resentment sprouted.
Under normal circumstances, Joachim would have been the chosen, continuing the line. Eldest son to eldest son. As young as he’d been—as sickly as he’d once been—Valerian’s father had been the better choice.
Joachim believed Valerian had stolen his legacy, and he wasn’t wrong. But now, looking back, Valerian wondered if the sea god had known what he hadn’t. Joachim would have destroyed the nymphs.
If Poseidon had even visited once since the coronation, perhaps this could have been avoided. But the male had forgotten them.
“Any sword will do,” he added.
A pause before the shield was taken out of his hand. Footsteps rang out. A few seconds later, the cool press of the shield’s handle weighed in his grip. A sharp-tipped blade now rested in the center. He nodded in approval.
“Your helmet, my king,” Broderick said.
“No.” He kept his gaze on Joachim. “Not this time.”
Broderick frowned. “What of your other armor?”
“No.”
Valerian hefted his spear in one hand, his shield in the other, and stepped into the arena.
“Shall we begin?”
“We shall.”
Determined, he circled Joachim. “You will forever be an example of what happens to those who challenge my rule.”
“Is this the part where I taunt you back?” Joachim continued to swing his spear.
“I’d hoped it would be the part where you listened to reason. You are too war-happy to be king.”
Eyes narrowing, his cousin said, “Such a quality should be lauded.”
“Lauded? When the hunger will never be appeased? In the end, you might conquer all of Atlantis, but you will also destroy the entire city.”
“Better to rule a decimated land than no land at all.”
“That. That is why you are unfit. You don’t see the foolishness of your words.”
“I’m no fool!” With a roar, Joachim leaped at him. Valerian met him halfway. He’d told Shaye he would handle this quickly, and he would.
Their spears clashed