Thristle floated in darkness for what felt like forever—her body heavy, every muscle screaming from the lightning that had coursed through her like liquid fire. The world was a distant hum, the roar of the colosseum nothing more than a muffled echo. Then, slowly, warmth returned. A familiar warmth. Sothing soft and insistent pressed against her lips, and a sweet, potent liquid trickled into her mouth—rich, golden, carrying the unmistakable taste of Aiden's highest-grade S-Rank healing potion.
Her strength trickled back in gentle waves. First her fingers twitched, then her eyelids fluttered. The familiar sensation of Aiden's mouth on hers—gentle yet commanding, feeding her the potion mouth-to-mouth—pulled her fully into consciousness.
She opened her eyes.
Aiden was right there—his face inches from hers, blue eyes soft with quiet concern and pride. His lips were still pressed to hers, carefully tilting the last drops of the glowing potion into her mouth. One of his hands cradled the back of her head, fingers threaded gently through her hair, while the other supported her lower back, holding her securely against his chest.
Thristle's heart stuttered.
She was on Aiden's lap—straddling him sideways in the highest gallery, her body cradled protectively in his arms. Her torn, scorched uniform clung damply to her sweat-slicked skin, the fabric ripped in several places to reveal reddened patches and faint burn marks across her toned thighs and midriff which were now healing due to the healing portion. Her breasts—still heaving from the aftershocks of the fight—pressed warmly against his chest through the damaged material.
Aiden pulled back slowly, lips parting from hers with a soft, wet sound. A thin string of saliva connected them for a heartbeat before breaking. He licked his lower lip once—casual, almost absentminded—then smiled down at her, thumb brushing a stray drop from the corner of her mouth.
"Welco back, my fierce little hobgoblin," he murmured—voice low, warm, laced with that dark affection that always made her stomach flutter. "You won. You made very proud."
Thristle blinked—still dazed—then a slow, exhausted grin spread across her face. "I… I won?" she rasped—voice hoarse from screaming and the lightning that had scorched her throat. "Really?"
Luna—standing right beside them, still holding the empty potion vial—bead with teary eyes, wolf ears perked high. "You did! You were so strong, Thristle! Everyone was cheering so loud! I was so scared when you got hit by all that lightning, but you got back up every ti!"
Zerra's face lit up the instant Thristle's eyes opened, her small hands clapping together in delight. She bounced on her toes, as she stared at the hobgoblin who had just refused to stay down.
"You were so strong, Thristle!" Zerra exclaid, voice bright and full of admiration. "You took all that lightning and still punched her back! I was cheering so loud my throat hurts. You're like a real hero! I'm so proud of you!"
Nyxion leaned over toward her—fluffy black tail flicking excitedly. "You looked like a demon out there. In the best way. I almost cried just watching you refuse to stay down."
Nayla licked her lips slowly—eyes dark with heat. "Mmm… the way you kept talking through the pain? So hot. I want to see you like that again…"
Venya rumbled happily—wings rustling. "Venya is proud! You fought like a true My Lord's mate. My Lord will give you the best reward tonight."
Valeforia smirked—eyes gleaming. "You made her bleed. I liked that part. Next ti, rip her clothes off too. Give the crowd a real show."
Xylendra nodded quietly—though her cheeks were faintly pink. "You were… impressive. Don't do that again though. I don't like seeing you hurt."
Aethoniel fluttered her small wings nervously—peeking from behind Aiden's shoulder. "Thristle was very brave… but please rest now. We were all so worried…"
Arisha moved forward, arms crossed over her chest, but the tension in her shoulders eased as she saw Thristle's tired grin. The goblin general's gaze softened with quiet respect as she took in the way Thristle had fought through every lightning strike.
"You fought like a true warrior," Arisha said, voice steady and full of pride. "I've seen seasoned soldiers break under less. You took everything that lightning bitch threw at you and still stood up. I'm proud of you, Thristle. You made us all look strong out there."
Selvara sitting beside Aiden, wings half-folded and rustling restlessly. She tried to keep her usual aloof expression, but the way her fingers dug into her own arms betrayed her worry. Finally, she huffed and spoke, voice sharp yet laced with reluctant affection.
"You're such an idiot," she grumbled, refusing to et Thristle's eyes. "Charging in like that, letting lightning cook you over and over… I was this close to flying down there and dragging you off the field myself. Don't do that again. You scared , you reckless fool."
She paused, cheeks burning, then added in a quieter, almost embarrassed tone, "Still… you fought well. You didn't back down even when she hit you with everything. That was… kinda impressive. You made us look strong. Just… don't make worry like that next ti."
Thrsitle teased, "Aww... You were worried for . Thanl you."
Selvara blushed, "Shut up."
Lysandra stepped closer—golden hair glowing softly—placing a gentle hand on Thristle's shoulder. "You fought magnificently," she said—voice soft but firm, older-sister warmth clear in every word. "But you scared us half to death. Promise you'll be more careful next ti. No more pushing yourself until you collapse. We need you whole."
Vegia—standing right beside Lysandra—crossed her arms, looking equal parts relieved and scolding. "Exactly. You ca back all brused and bloody. I told you not to charge in like an idiot! What if our husband hadn't been there to catch you? You're going straight to bed after this—no argunts. And no more 'I'm fine' nonsense. We're all watching you now."
Thristle let out a weak, raspy laugh—still nestled against Aiden's chest—her body relaxing fully into his hold. "You guys… are all so an to when I win…" she whined—voice hoarse but playful. "I was trying to look cool for My King… and now I get scolded? Not fair…"
Lysandra's expression softened, but she didn't relent. "We scold because we care. You're important to all of us. Next ti, fight smart, not just hard."
Vegia nodded firmly—though her eyes were misty. "Exactly. I almost cried when that last lightning hit you. Don't make worry like that again, you big idiot."
Thristle pouted, then nuzzled deeper into Aiden's chest, her cheek saring a faint streak of blood and sweat against his shirt.
"Sorry…" she mumbled, voice muffled against him. "But I won, right? So… reward?"
Aiden's low, warm chuckle rumbled through his chest like distant thunder. He slid one large hand up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading gently through her damp hair, massaging her scalp with soothing circles. "You won," he confird, his voice dark with unmistakable pride. "And yes, my fierce little wife, you'll get your reward. But first, you rest. You earned every second of it. You made look damn good out there."
Thristle's lashes fluttered, a wave of pure contentnt softening her battle-worn features. The corners of her mouth lifted into a faint, satisfied smile. "Mmm… anything for My King…"
From a few feet away, Liana leaned forward with a bright, infectious grin, still seated beside Ela. "You were seriously aweso, Thristle! The way you kept trash-talking even while getting zapped? Iconic. I'm stealing that energy next ti I step into the ring. You were on fire!"
Ela's athyst eyes glowed with gentle warmth as she offered a soft smile. "You were very brave. I was worried… but you never gave up, not even for a mont. That was truly inspiring."
Thristle peeked up from Aiden's chest, her grin weak but genuine. "Thanks, you two… that ans a lot coming from you."
Aiden's thumb brushed slowly across Thristle's lower lip—gentle, yet undeniably possessive. His touch lingered, a silent claim that made her shiver despite her fatigue. "Rest now," he ordered softly, the command wrapped in velvet. "You've done more than enough for today. Let the others handle the rest."
Thristle nodded, her eyelids already growing heavy. Her body lted completely into his lap, every muscle relaxing as trust and love poured through her. "Yes… My King…" she whispered, the words barely audible before nudged into his chest.
Aiden held her securely, his right hand resting protectively over the curve of her lower back, fingers splayed wide as if to shield her from the world. He gazed down at his battered but victorious wife with quiet satisfaction, a rare softness in his usually fierce eyes.
The peaceful mont shattered as Elowen Voss's amplified voice cut through the noise like a blade.
"Next duel: Selvara Nightshade versus Nina Ignis!"
Aiden's lips quirked into a teasing smirk. He leaned closer to Selvara, his breath warm against her ear. "Looks like it's your turn, Selva."
Selvara turned to glare at him, though the fire in her eyes couldn't quite hide the flush creeping up her neck. "Baka," she muttered, trying to sound fierce. "I will destroy her. Just… just…"
"Just what?" Aiden whispered, his voice dropping into that low, intimate tone that always made her knees weak.
Selvara's cheeks burned brighter. Her voice softened, suddenly shy and vulnerable beneath the bravado. "Just keep the reward ready."
Aiden chuckled again, deep and rich, the sound wrapping around her like a promise. "Always."
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END OF CHAPTER : 300 : STOP MAKING US WORRY LIKE THAT!
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