He settled back onto the bed beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight, and placed the plate between them. Turkey and swiss on what looked like freshly baked bread, with crisp lettuce and tomato. Nothing fancy, but perfect for her current state.
"I saw Darius," Riley said between bites, the memory crystallizing now that her head was clearer. "In the shadows of the women's locker room, right after Jessica attacked me. Just a glimpse, but it was definitely him."
Adrian's jaw tightened. Golden light flared briefly in his eyes before he controlled it. "I know he was behind it. I heard him bragging about it in the men's locker room. So I confronted him before my match."
Riley's hand froze halfway to her mouth. "Please tell me you didn't beat him up."
"No." Adrian's voice carried a dangerous edge that made her pulse quicken. "But I told him that once I become Alpha, he won't be able to hide behind pride politics anymore. He'll regret ever having someone hurt you."
The fierce protectiveness in his tone sent heat spiraling through her chest, even as worry gnawed at her stomach. She could feel his fury at Darius still burning through their completed mate bond—a steady flame of rage that promised retribution. Tomorrow's final match wouldn't just be about tournament victory; it would be personal vendetta played out for the world to see.
"I'm worried about you fighting him tomorrow," Riley admitted, setting down her sandwich to look directly into his eyes. "It's going to be brutal, and I can feel how angry you still are through our bond."
Adrian's expression softened slightly, one large hand reaching out to cup her cheek. "He made a mistake when he targeted you. That's going to cost him everything."
After they finished eating, Adrian moved with methodical care to prop her injured knee up with extra pillows, adjusting the angle until she nodded approval. He disappeared briefly into his bathroom and returned with an ice pack wrapped in a soft towel, positioning it carefully over the swelling.
"Better?" he asked, settling back down beside her.
Riley nodded, already feeling the soothing cold working against the inflammation. "You don't have to take care of me like this. I'm tougher than I look."
"I know exactly how tough you are." Adrian's hand found her hair. "But that doesn't mean you have to handle it all alone anymore."
The simple statement hit her harder than any declaration of love could have. This was what she'd been afraid of her entire adult life—needing someone, depending on them, allowing herself to be cared for. But lying here in Adrian's bed, feeling the steady warmth of his presence through their bond, she realized that accepting care didn't diminish her strength. It multiplied it.
Riley found herself relaxing into his touch as he continued stroking her hair, the repetitive motion soothing in ways she hadn't expected. Despite her frustration about the injury and everything it meant for her career, she felt loved and cherished and utterly protected. This magnificent man—who could shift into a massive tiger, who commanded millions in business deals, who was destined to lead an entire pride—was content to spend his time tending to her needs.
"Rest," Adrian murmured as her eyelids grew heavy again.
As consciousness slipped away once more, Riley's last thought crystallized with fierce determination. She might be injured, she might be facing months of recovery, but she wouldn't be sidelined tomorrow. She was going to coach Adrian from the corner of that ring, even if she had to stand on hercrutches to do it. Darius had made this personal when he'd orchestrated her attack, and she intended to see him pay for it.
EIGHTEEN
ADRIAN
The moment Adrian and Riley stepped through the arena's main entrance the next morning, the chaos erupted like a dam bursting. Camera flashes exploded in rapid succession, creating a disorienting strobe effect that made Adrian's protective instincts surge. A wall of reporters and fans pressed forward, their voices blending into an aggressive cacophony that threatened to overwhelm Riley as she navigated carefully on her crutches.
"Riley! What happened to your knee?"
"Is your career over?"
"Who attacked you in the locker room?"
"Are you and Adrian Kael dating?"
Adrian positioned himself slightly ahead of Riley, his broad shoulders creating a barrier between her and the most aggressive members of the media. His jaw tightened as he watched her struggle to maintain balance on her crutches while dodging microphones being thrust in her direction.
"Give her space," Adrian's voice carried the unmistakable authority of a man accustomed to being obeyed. His blue eyes flared with golden light as he swept his gaze across the crowd."Riley will answer all questions at her press conference later today."
A particularly persistent reporter pushed closer, nearly knocking into Riley's injured leg. "But Adrian, your knockout yesterday was unprecedented?—"
"He can't talk right now either," Riley interjected firmly, her brown eyes flashing with irritation as she shifted her weight to avoid another microphone. "He needs to get ready for his match. You can talk to him after the fight."
Adrian felt a rush of admiration for his mate's fierce protectiveness, even while injured. She was defending his preparation time with the same intensity he was defending her need for space. The crowd pressed closer, and Adrian made an executive decision.
"Move," he commanded, his voice dropping to a tone that made several reporters step back instinctively. His presence seemed to expand, filling the space with barely contained power. "Now."
They carved a path through the chaos, Adrian's intimidating presence parting the crowd more effectively than any security guard could have managed. Riley kept pace beside him, her jaw set with stubborn determination as she refused to let the crutches slow her down. Adrian's hands twitched with the urge to simply carry her, but he knew better than to undermine her independence in such a public setting.