One of Dante's three opponents, the brunette with a permanent scowl, launched themself at Dante. He effortlessly swatted him away. Immediately, the skinnier blonde male swung at Dante.
This continued on, they each took turns trying and failing to land a punch or kick on Dante. They seemed to have a system worked out in order to slow Dante down, I knew he couldn't keep this up for long and dug my fingernails into my arm anxiously.
Finally, Dante got hit. Blondie kneed Dante directly into his bullet wound. I winced and my stomach clenched in worry. I felt like throwing up.
The crowd erupted in boos and cheer, pushing forward until my bruised cheek was pressed against the rope surrounding the ring. I hissed out in pain and brought my hand up to my cheek. My fingers came back smeared in blood.
My attention was captivated again by the right as the crowd cheered again. This time, it was for Dante who had thrown the blonde male over the boundary of rope that encased the arena. The fight continued and Dante didn't seem to slow down, but also didn't directly try to land a hit on them. Was Dante tiring or was he trying to drag the fight out? Why?
I saw a flash of metal and screamed at Dante in fear of his life. I didn't expect him to hear me over the noise, but he spun around and searched the crowd with light his eyes. I waved my arms wildly until his eyes locked on me. He looked me over and became furious, yelling something I couldn't hear.
I frantically pointed behind him towards the bald man holding the knife that was advancing on him. Dante seemed too occupied with trying to communicate something to me.
It was too late. I watched in horror as Dante's face contorted in pain and the bald guy slowly smiled.
Dante roared so loudly the place went dead silent. He spun around and I saw the gaping wound in the center of his back with blood pouring out of it at an alarming rate. Dante slammed his fist into his attacker's face, knocking him unconscious and from the looks of it, broke his nose too.
He crowd cheered, the spell on them broken now that Dante has finally taken the offensive. Dante grabbed the bloody knife of the floor and advances towards the other two opponents.
I was jerked around and my view was blocked by a broad chest. I looked up into Atlas's fiery red eyes. I almost sobbed in relief and immediately wrapped my arms around Atlas's thick waist as best as I could. I was grateful for the distraction. I didn't want to watch what was going to happen next, but would have continued watching unless someone had pulled me away.
Atlas leaned down and gentle touched my cheek that wasn't plastered against his front. I blushed as I watched him flick his tongue over his finger covered in my blood. How could he make such an unusual act seem so sinful?
Atlas frowned and bent at the knee to sweep me off my feet. He cradled me in his arms with a firm for arm under my knees and a large hands sprawled under my back. The crowd parted for him and most bent their heads in respect. The others stared at him in terror or confusion. I guess I wasn't the only one confused about the red eyes. Who was he?
I tucked my head into the space where his neck connected to his body and finally drew a breath in through my nose to try and pick up on his scent, but it wasn't there. I frowned, I mentally filed away a reminder to ask him about his scent as well as Caspian's and Ronan's.
I heard a howl of pain from behind us and tried to peak around Atlas's shoulder. He grabbed the top of my head and forced my face forwards. I ignored his manhandling and glanced up at him, needing his answer. "Will Dante be okay?"
I didn't expect him to respond, thinking he wouldn't hear me even with his hearing abilities. But, he nodded and patted my head, making my toes curl.
I refused to let it show how he effected me and glared at him, "I'm not a dog."
He didn't even spare me a glance and kept walking forward in long, determined strides. I found myself inspecting his features as he carried me to safety. He had a gold hoop in his ear and I impulsively stuck my pinkie finger through. My eyes snapped upwards after realizing what I did and he was giving me the biggest side eye ever.
I smiled cheekily at him and for some reason thought his face was the funniest thing, causing me to burst out laughing. A sudden wave of heaviness washed over me. This was the aftermath from the anxiety of being lost, pushing my way through an aggressive crowd, and watching Dante fight, believing he would die. My laughter died down and my hands started shaking. I couldn't stop a lone tear from slipping out of my eye.
I silently cursed myself, why did I have to be so weak? Especially in front Atlas of all people. I brought my trembling hands up to cover my face and turned my head back into Atlas's chest. I clenched my teeth tightly together to try and muffle the sob building up in my chest.
"Hey, hey. Odette, everything is okay." Atlas's usual affirmative and gruff tone turned worried and softer.
I just nodded against his chest, hoping he would just ignore me so I could go die in a hole. I heard a door click open, shut and lock over my heavy breathing. Atlas crouched down on the floor. Soon, I was maneuvered around on Atlas's lap so that I was straddling him. My legs were spread wide to make room for his larger form.
His large, warm, rough hands grabbed either side of my face, dwarfing my entire head. He forcefully turned my face up towards him. His fingers gently wiped my tears away. More gentle than I ever thought he could be.
"Дыши маленькая девочка." I looked at him in confusion. His lips lifted at the corners, "breathe." He clarified.
When I looked into Atlas's blood red eyes, I finally was able to suck in a full breath. The pressure in my chest lessened, allowing room to breathe freely. All the background noise flooded back into my ears and I felt like I was finally present in the room.
Atlas continued stroking my hair, "you're safe. Dante's safe, we pulled him out of the match. Caden and Ronan are fine, just worried about you when you went missing."
My tears slowly stopped, Atlas had hit all the topics I was stressing about. He breathed deeply with me until I fully returned from my dazed state.
Atlas, without warning, leaned down and flicked his tongue over the wound on my cheek. I jerked away in surprise. What the fuck was that?
He snarled a warning at me to be still and forced my head closer to him so he could resume licking me. For a moment, I was too stunned to speak, then I started twisting, trying to get out of his hold. I don't care if this was some weird instinct, he's going to get the cut infected.
A wave of pure dominance and power washed over me, causing me to go limp. After a few more minutes, Atlas finally pulled away, inspecting me cheek. He reigned in his power and I regained the ability to pull away from him. I reached my hand up to my tingling cheek to wipe away his saliva.
When I gently touched it with my fingertip, I realized the throbbing pain had dulled. I frowned and prodded my cheekbone with my fingers. The cut was gone. There was no blood. I looked at Atlas in shock. Was an ability of an alpha?
"The bruising will take a little longer to heal. But, you should be all set in an hour maximum." The drill sergeant was back, replacing the soft side he had shown.
He handed me a handkerchief and pointed at my nose, "wipe away the blood, unless you wants me to heal your bloody nose too."
He looked at me with a raised eyebrow when I didn't immediately follow his orders. "No, that's okay," I squeaked and grabbed his handkerchief.
I dabbed and my nose while I took in the rest of the room. We were in an office. Maybe Dante's? I stepped further into the room. The concrete floors had black and red patterned rugs over it. The walls were the same concrete grey without any pictures of decoration covering them. There was a small table between two large, black leather chairs. The chairs were facing an even larger, menacing looking dark, wood desk. Atlas never took his blood red eyes off of me, making me nervous.
And when I get nervous, I talk. A lot. "How come Ronan's scent is barely there? How can you turn off your scent? How come your 'scent' doesn't smell like anything and just feels like ... pressure? Where is Caspian's scent? It's not there at all? Is he dying? Is Caspian sick? Are you sick?"
I laid it all out. All the burning questions. Atlas laughed, poured himself a glass of some type of alcohol and chucked it back down his throat. He avoided the questions and poured himself another glass and swirled it around before looking at me skeptically, "nobody is sick or dying."
He then drank his second refill just as quickly as his first. Was that all he was giving me? No one was sick? Why did they smell like that then? I definitely stumbled upon some big secret.
Maybe if I get him drunk he will fess up? Should I seduce him? No, I don't know how to flirt. Maybe if I stress him out enough, he will keep drinking. I smiled to myself, "it doesn't seem like everyone is okay. I don't think it's normal to have absolutely no scent at all. Maybe we should take Caspian to the hospital."
Sure enough, Atlas sucked another large gulp of alcohol down. He shook his head, "he's fine."
I smirked, secretly enjoying this game, "but -"
The door banged open, I glanced at the door. It's Dante. Although Atlas had reassured me multiple times that Dante was okay. It was nice to see he was actually still alive.
I went to moved from my spot in the corner of the room to go greet Dante and inspect his wounds. His fierce glare, aimed at Atlas, in the center of the office, caused me to stay in my spot.
Dante fumed, "What in the living fuck possessed you to bring her here?" I scoffed, slightly hurt.
Atlas glared right back at him and with a level tone said, "Odette came by her own free will." Go Atlas. "I didn't bring her. Maybe if you weren't a fucking nut case who can't stop yourself from jumping into more danger without giving yourself a chance to heal, she wouldn't be here."
I winced, Atlas wasn't pulling his punched. I expected Dante to scream back at Atlas but instead his light blue eyes snapped to me with sorrow in his eyes, "I'm not a nut case."
My eyes softened, "I know Dante." I stepped out of the corner I had pressed myself against, "we just want you to be safe."
His throat bobbed while he stared at a space above my head. Atlas cleared his throat, "you can prove that by coming home. No fighting for a week."
"Atlas." I hissed, he could at least not insult Dante. He turned his dark eyes to me and I gulped, regretting speaking against him.
Dante nodded in agreement. Atlas grunted, satisfied that he had talked some sense into Dante.