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Midnight Star
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Midnight Star
Aurora Champions Book Four
Ophelia Bell
MT Worlds Press
Text copyright ©2019 by Ophelia Bell
Published by M.T. Worlds Press, Inc.
Winter Springs, FL 32708
http://mtworldspress.com
Cover Art Designed by Willsin Rowe
Edited by Razor Sharp Editing
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Become a Beastie
1. Astra
2. Astra
3. Val
4. Val
5. Javin
6. Simon
7. Simon
8. Javin
9. Astra
10. Astra
11. Astra
12. Simon
13. Astra
14. Simon
15. Val
16. Javin
17. Val
18. Astra
19. Astra
20. Astra
21. Val
22. Val
23. Astra
24. Astra
25. Javin
26. Val
27. Javin
28. Astra
29. Val
30. Astra
31. Val
32. Astra
33. Astra
34. Astra
Keep in Touch
About the Author
Also by Ophelia Bell
Become a Beastie
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1
Astra
Sweat stung Astra’s eyes and the sun glared down from above the arena. She pivoted on her heel, her enormous black wings outstretched to aid her balance as she sought out her opponent. The glimmer of a shadow beyond one of the obstacles betrayed the panther shifter’s position, and she withdrew her wings, rolling to the ground and behind another obstacle. Two could play the stealth game.
Closing her eyes, she commanded her dragon’s other senses into high alert, scenting the feline’s telltale odor. Something more acrid and foul filled her nostrils along with it, making her blanch, but it served to lead her in for the kill.
She spied a tail first, which quickly disappeared, merging with the other champion’s lithe body with the power of a thought. But it was too late. Astra had her quarry in her sights and was leaping before the other champion could react. She only needed one more point and the championship was hers.
Her battle cry ripped the air and her opponent spun, the woman’s eyes wide with shock, but it was too late. Astra’s opponent managed one swing with sharp claws before Astra’s knee connected with her chest, knocking her flat on her back. The claws sank into Astra’s inner thigh, straight through her skintight body armor. Pain lanced through her, but the crowd was already on its feet, roaring with excitement over the win.
Astra didn’t have time to wonder how in the hell the panther’s claws could have breached the nearly impervious mesh of her armor. She had won yet another championship and had to stand in the in the winner’s circle at the edge of the arena and take her victory bow.
Ignoring the injury that bled down her thigh, she jogged to the center of the arena, arms outstretched, reveling in the chants that rose into the air. “Midnight Star, Midnight Star,” the fans cried as she blew them kisses and spun around.
But as much as the fans meant to her, there was only one person who she ever dedicated her wins to. “This is for you, Talon,” she whispered. “They’re all for you, brother.”
Her manager and coach rushed her after a moment.
“What the hell, Astra, you’re bleeding!” her coach yelled over the roar of the crowd.
“It’s nothing,” Astra said. “Lucky hit is all. It didn’t affect my win. Even if it counted, she was too far behind in points for it to matter.”
“That’s not the goddamn point and you know it,” her coach snapped. “Nothing can breach champion armor.”
“No time to worry about it now,” Astra said, already pushing through toward the winner’s circle, where she’d receive her trophy and pose for photos. A contingent of Nova Aurora’s news reporters was standing behind the rope, already chomping at the bit to interview her.
She was the arena league’s rising star, had come out of the ashes of her brother’s sudden death and risen up the ranks in the women’s solo bracket. She’d gone from living in the shadow of the Ebon Claw to having one of the most brilliant careers of any female champion, and only in the span of a couple years. She wasn’t about to let her fans see her falter now, nor the collection of close friends who stood to the side cheering her on.
Standing among the bright lights of the cameras, she held her trophy high, reveling in the cheers. The globe-shaped trophy glinted in the sunlight, the camera flashes reflecting off it straight into her eyes.
Each flash spiked straight into her head, making her wince with a pain that rivaled the throbbing in her thigh. She wavered, the world wobbling beneath her, and widened her stance. She’d been at the top of her game only moments ago. How the hell could she feel so weak now?
That strange, acrid odor hit her nostrils again and she glanced up, looking straight into the dark eyes of her panther-shifter opponent. The other champion sneered at her, sharp claws still extended from the tips of her fingers, the points shining with luminescent fluid. Astra’s nostrils flared as a terrifying memory surged through her mind. That scent was familiar, and it wasn’t the feline shifter’s native odor. That was the substance she’d smelled the day of her brother’s deadly final match. The foul-scented poison had coated his opponent’s claws and teeth, dripping from his mouth in thick, viscous saliva.
White rage flared unbidden and her dragon roared, surging to the surface before Astra could rein her in. She lurched toward the other champion, talons already extended and aiming for her throat.
Three sets of big hands grabbed her, pulling her back when she was inches from ripping the other woman’s throat out. Astra went to the ground, the familiar faces of the Triple Talons team hovering over her.
“Fucking hell,” Cato blurted. “Do you guys smell that? Astra, you’ve been hit by the toxin. We’re going to get you to the medical center. Just hang in there. You guys get the fucking bitch who did this!”
As her friends and arena security sprang into action, she lay there, half shifted and unable to speak, her mind spinning. Her body wasn’t cooperating, and neither was her dragon. Her synchronized link she had trained her entire life to form had been severed from the beast that made her who she was.
“Please no,” she begged, staring up into grim faces that flickered and faded into blackness.
2
Astra
Astra woke to the low hum of medical equipment and the scent of antiseptic. She was alive, which was some relief, but a painful void lurked inside her gut. Her link to her dragon shoul
d have rested in that place, but it was gone. The cold blackness quickly filled with hot anger and she clenched her fists into the soft blanket that covered her.
“Javin, she’s waking up,” came a familiar female voice. Footsteps rushed close and Astra cracked her eyelids, teeth clenched and nostrils flaring with the effort to keep her emotions in check. It was bad enough that she’d been laid low by the toxin that had killed her brother, but to have the two people closest to her here to bear witness? That was too much.
“Leave,” she grated when the two figures drew close.
“Astra, sweetie, you’re going to be okay.”
She opened her eyes and glared at the other woman. “Simina,” she said in a warning tone. “I am not going to be okay. You of all people should know.”
Just as stubborn as ever, Simina ignored her. “We need to check your wound, see if your dragon’s healed it.” She reached for the covers and Astra smacked her hand away.
“It hasn’t. My dragon’s gone, Simina. Why is my dragon gone? I took the fucking counteragent, just like all the other champions. You promised it would protect us from the toxin. Now look at me!” She tore the covers back and yanked the hem of her gown up to display the bandage that covered the inside of her upper thigh. Black tendrils snaked out from the wound beneath, and that acrid odor hit her nostrils.
Simina flinched and Javin scowled, moving to Simina’s side. He took the tablet out of her hands and gave her a slight nod. “Go check on her test results, Dr. Taji. Let me have a moment alone with the patient.”
The patient. Astra gritted her teeth. Was that all she was to him now? For her entire life, Javin Traore had never seen her. She’d always just been “Talon’s little sister.” Even after she’d won multiple league championships, well on her way to matching her brother’s record, she’d still been the sibling Javin swore to look after as if she were his own sister. Now she was just the patient.
“You can get the fuck out too,” she snapped.
“Simina didn’t deserve that.” Javin pulled up a chair and sat as if he had no better place to be. “You know what she went through.”
“She isn’t a champion whose fucking entire life rides on keeping the connection to her dragon.”
“Her life did ride on it, Astra, and so did her baby’s. You weren’t here after her attack. She would have died if her mates hadn’t stepped up. You still have a chance. Your wound is far from fatal. You will heal.”
Astra deflated a little at the mention of Simina’s daughter. Astra adored the little girl, but that didn’t change her own desires.
“Well I don’t have mates and I don’t want mates. That counteragent was supposed to fucking work. Now what am I supposed to do? I’d have been better off if the wound had been fatal.”
Javin’s golden eyes flashed and his jaw flexed. She had him. The toxin on her opponent’s claws wasn’t a new thing. Within the last year, multiple champions had sustained injuries like hers. Some, like her brother, had died from their wounds. Others had been lucky enough to live, though only the ones who found mates ever made it back into the arena. That is, until Simina and Javin had managed to get their hands on a sample of the drug the toxin was metabolized from and create a counteragent to protect against the toxin’s effects.
“We’re already working on a new counteragent—”
Astra’s eyes widened. “Wait a second. You knew it had stopped working?”
Javin sat back and scrubbed his hands over his face, sighing. “We’re still working on understanding what happened. It might have lost effectiveness due to metabolic differences between victims, or we might be dealing with an entirely new version of the drug. You’re the first victim of an attack since we became aware of its loss of effectiveness, so we have no data beyond what we can gather from your wound. We do have a serum that can slow the spread of the toxin, but right now that’s all we’ve got.”
“But you knew, you bastard. My life is fucking over. I’d have liked a little warning. I could have avoided getting hit if I’d believed this was a possibility!”
She gestured toward her thigh and Javin’s gaze dropped, his brows twitching. Then his eyes closed. His nostrils flared, no doubt his wolf scenting the wound. He had to know how serious it was even if she hadn’t come close to bleeding out.
“It kills me that it was you,” he finally said. “And I know it isn’t any comfort right now, but we’re working on getting to the bottom of it once and for all. Now will you let me take a look? Cooperating will go a long way toward understanding what changed.”
He set the tablet down on the tray table nearby and gestured toward her bandage. Astra huffed and pressed back against her pillows, stretching out her leg.
“Knock yourself out.”
Javin leaned forward, his warm fingertips brushing her skin as he plucked at the edge of the adhesive tape that held the bandage down. Astra watched, her gaze fixed on Javin’s profile as he concentrated on being as gentle as possible. He rested his other hand just above her knee on the inside of her leg, and the touch somehow made her more conscious of him than of her wound.
He was just her doctor. Looking at nasty wounds was his job. Yet each slight tug of the bandage and the pressure of his hand made her more acutely aware that this was Javin touching her in a far more intimate way than she’d ever imagined he might.
She took a ragged breath when he peeled the bandage back and revealed the wound itself. Four deep punctures graced the fleshy upper curve of her inner thigh.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked, gently palpating the outer edge of one of the wounds.
“Yes, but I have a high pain threshold.” What she had no threshold for was the sudden pulsing that had started higher up, right between her thighs.
“I’m going to take a swab of the wound,” he said. “We need to see how much of the toxin is still at the site.”
He stood and turned toward the medical cart by the door, giving Astra a moment to breathe. Her heart raced, her body’s instinct to flee or fight paralyzing her. The implications of that feeling were what terrified her the most, however. She was fearless. She’d trained for years alongside her brother, first as his sparring partner, then on her own when Simina had taken the place of her brother’s sidekick. She held no grudge against Talon’s girlfriend for taking her place though. Astra had always adored Simina because her brother had loved her, and besides, Astra was ready to take the next step on her own path as an arena league champion and that would require separating herself from her brother’s career.
But Talon was dead now, and Simina had moved on with an entire team of new mates. Triple Talons had endeared themselves to Astra just by virtue of their love for the woman her brother had adored and would have mated had he not been killed.
“If you found a mate, it would speed up the healing process,” Javin said, returning to her side with a small vial and a swab. He looked pointedly at her wound rather than meeting her eyes with his preposterous suggestion.
“I don’t want a fucking mate.” She winced when he pressed on the outer edge of her wound once more and dark, acrid ichor oozed from it.
With a quick swipe he gathered his sample and stowed it in the vial, capping it with a precise flick of his thumb. Then he produced a tube of ointment and began to smooth pale cream over the punctures. His touch was soothing and arousing at the same time, the numbing properties in the ointment easing the low throb in her thigh while magnifying the one between her legs.
Astra bit her lip, enduring the contradictory sensations while hoping like hell his sharp wolf senses couldn’t pick up her arousal over the scent of that awful toxin. She didn’t need a lab test to know it still contaminated her blood. Nor did she need one to tell her that her dragon was too far gone to help her heal.
“You know the rumors that mated champions lose their edge are bunk, right?” Javin asked, now working to apply a fresh bandage over her wound. She couldn’t wait for him to be done and go already.
“Yeah, th
at’s not it.”
“Then what is it?” he asked, patting her wound and sitting back with the crumpled remnants of her old bandage in his fist. He stared right into her eyes, challenging her to answer. Astra faltered under that piercing gaze, the golden eyes seeming to see right into her soul. But she knew he didn’t really see her. All he saw was Talon’s little sister. An oath to his dead best friend. Not a woman, nor a potential mate.
Because if Astra could feel her dragon right now, she knew the longing she felt deep in her gut would be doubled. As long as she could remember, she’d known Javin was it for her. Half the reason she’d started her training was to control that instinct, to become so in sync with her dragon that it obeyed her wishes and not the other way around.
It would hurt too much to confess those feelings only to have them be rejected, so she’d trained herself to reject any emotional entanglement that threatened to distract her.
“The arena is my life. I just don’t want anything to get in the way of that.”
He lifted an eyebrow but thankfully didn’t point out the obvious obstacle to her competing again. Even once her wound healed, there was a strong chance her link to her dragon would never be the same.
“Then I guess I have my work cut out for me if I’m going to find a new counteragent. In the meantime, Simina’s going to talk you through your recovery options. Bryer Vargas has agreed to help. Or, rather, his mate, Pomona, is sending over her recipes so you can start working on your diet.”