"Someone attacked her in the locker room," Adrian said, carefully settling Riley onto the examination table. "Her knee."
The medic's hands were gentle but thorough as she began her assessment, and Adrian felt every probe and movement through their bond. Riley's fingers found his, gripping tightly as she tried not to cry out.
The door burst open again, and Cameron, Riley's main sponsor, rushed in with his phone pressed to his ear. He ended the call abruptly when he saw Riley on the table.
"Jesus, Riley. What the hell happened?"
"Got jumped while I was changing," Riley managed between gritted teeth. "Didn't see who it was. They hit my knee and ran."
The medic looked up from her examination, her expression grim. "I'm afraid it looks like a torn ACL. Possibly some meniscus damage as well. You'll need an MRI to confirm, but there's no way you can compete today. Or for several months."
Adrian felt her devastation crash through their bond—the crushing realization of what this meant for her career.
"This kind of injury—it ends careers. Someone just destroyed everything I've worked for," Riley's voice was barely a whisper.
Adrian's hand clenched into a fist. It had to be Darius. The bastard had orchestrated this attack to eliminate Riley as a threat and to destabilize Adrian before his own match.
"I'm going to find Darius," Adrian said, his voice deadly quiet. "I'm going to end this."
"You don't know it was him," Riley protested, though her eyes said she suspected the same thing. "Adrian, you can't just?—"
"I can and I will." His tiger was demanding blood, demanding justice for his injured mate.
"No." Riley's grip on his hand tightened. "You're not throwing away your match because of this. I won't let you jeopardize everything."
"Riley—"
"I'm serious." Despite her pain, her voice carried that familiar steel. "You've worked too hard for this. The pride is watching. You can't just abandon everything because I'm hurt."
Adrian stared at her, torn between the desperate need to hunt down whoever had done this and his mate's fierce insistence that he stay the course.
"Fine," he said finally. "But I'm staying with you until my match."
"No, you're not." Riley's brown eyes were bright with unshed tears, but her jaw was set. "Go find my mom in the stands. She can take me to the hospital. You have a match to focus on."
Every instinct screamed against leaving her, but Adrian recognized the futility of arguing with Riley when she'd made up her mind. She was protecting him, even while lying injured on a medic's table.
"I'll find Tammy," he said reluctantly. "But I'm meeting you at the hospital the second my match is over."
Riley nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "Go. Win this thing."
Adrian pressed a fierce kiss to her forehead, pouring all his love and promise of vengeance through their bond, then forced himself to leave the medical room.
He found Tammy in the stands, her face lighting up when she spotted him before immediately shifting to concern at his expression.
"Riley's been attacked," he said without preamble. "She's in the medical room. Torn ACL. She needs you to take her to the hospital."
Tammy's face went white. "Attacked? What do you mean attacked?"
"Someone ambushed her in the locker room. Deliberately targeted her knee." Adrian's voice was controlled, but Tammy seemed to sense the barely leashed violence beneath the surface. "Take care of her. I'll meet you at the hospital after my match."
Tammy was already gathering her purse, moving with the efficient speed of a mother responding to crisis and hurried toward the medical room, leaving him alone with his fury.
He made his way to the men's locker room, his mind already focused on what he needed to do. Change into his fighting gear. Warm up as quickly as possible. And then destroy whoever they put in front of him.
The locker room was mostly empty, most fighters already having completed their matches or moved to the warm-up areas. But as Adrian rounded the corner, he heard a sound that made his blood freeze—low, satisfied laughter.
Darius.