Chapter 12 Adrian #2
"I'm perfectly fine," Riley said, pressing the elevator call button. "I've been in this environment more times than I can count. I can handle myself."
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Adrian followed her inside, his body automatically positioning itself between her and the opening. "I know you can handle yourself. But that doesn't mean I don't want to stay close."
And mark my territory, his tiger added silently, but Adrian kept that particular thought to himself.
The ride to the main floor passed in tense silence, both of them lost in their own preparations.
Adrian could feel Riley's mind shifting gears, her focus narrowing to that laser-sharp concentration he'd witnessed during their training sessions.
It was mesmerizing to experience secondhand through their bond—the way she compartmentalized everything except the fight ahead.
When the elevator doors opened onto the convention center's main concourse, the assault on Adrian's senses was immediate and overwhelming.
Hundreds of voices created a constant buzz of conversation, punctuated by the sharp crack of gloves hitting pads from the various warm-up areas.
The scent of sweat, adrenaline, and too many bodies in one space made his tiger bristle with territorial aggression.
But it was the way every head turned toward Riley that made his jaw clench with barely restrained violence.
She moved through the crowd with the easy confidence of someone who belonged here, her gear bag slung over one shoulder, but Adrian could see the recognition rippling through the gathered fighters and spectators like wildfire.
Whispers followed in their wake, phones appeared as people tried to get pictures, and more than one male competitor tracked Riley's movement with the kind of predatory interest that made Adrian's vision flash gold.
"Riley Vaughn! Is that really her?"
"Three-time national champion—"
"Did you see her last fight? Absolutely destroyed that girl from Texas."
The attention should have made him proud. His mate was a celebrated champion, respected and admired throughout the kickboxing world. Instead, all Adrian could think about was creating a barrier between Riley and every other person in this building.
At the check-in counter, a harried volunteer with a clipboard looked up and immediately brightened. "Riley! We've been waiting for you. You're number seven in the women's division, first match of the day."
Riley accepted her competitor number and weigh-in paperwork with professional efficiency. "Thanks, John. This is Adrian Kael—he's competing in the men's heavyweight division."
John's eyes widened slightly as he took in Adrian's imposing frame. "First time competing, Mr. Kael?"
"Yes."
The single word carried enough weight that John simply nodded and handed over Adrian's paperwork without further comment. Number fifteen.
"Perfect slotting," Riley said as they moved away from the check-in table. "You'll be able to watch me compete before you have to get ready."
Relief flooded through him at her words. The thought of being separated from her while she fought had been eating at him since they'd entered the building. Now he could stay close, offer his support, and make sure every other male in the vicinity understood exactly who Riley belonged to now.
The crowd around them had only grown thicker, and Adrian found himself unconsciously moving closer to Riley's side as sponsors and fans approached for autographs and photos.
She handled each interaction with gracious professionalism, but he could feel the drain it created through their bond—the constant demand for her attention when she needed to be focusing on her upcoming fight.
His protective instincts spiked higher with each interruption, his tiger demanding he shield her from the overwhelming attention. When a particularly aggressive fan tried to grab her arm, Adrian stepped forward with enough menace that the man immediately backed away.
"Seriously," Riley murmured as they finally broke free from the crowd and headed toward the women's training area. "Your protectiveness is about to give me a headache. I'm used to this attention—it comes with the territory."
"That doesn't mean I have to like watching them paw at you," Adrian replied firmly.
She shot him a look that was part exasperation, part affection. "No one was pawing at me. They were just being fans."
Once they reached the women's training area, he forced himself to step back and give Riley space to focus. The transformation was immediate and breathtaking—she shed the public persona like a second skin, her movements becoming more fluid and more purposeful as she began her warm-up routine.
Other female competitors glanced her way with mixtures of respect, intimidation, and barely concealed jealousy.
Riley commanded the space without effort, her reputation preceding her like an invisible crown.
Adrian watched her flow through stretches and practice combinations, mesmerized by the deadly grace of her movements.
Through their bond, Adrian felt her mind clearing, all external distractions falling away until only the fight remained. It was a level of focus he recognized and admired—the same single-minded determination that had made him successful.
Pride swelled in his chest, so fierce and overwhelming that Riley paused mid-stretch and looked directly at him. Their eyes met across the training area, and she smiled—not the polished public smile she'd been wearing for fans, but something softer and more intimate that made his heart stutter.
"Riley Vaughn and Jessica Martinez, you're up!"
The assistant's voice cut through the training area like a blade, and Adrian felt Riley's nervous energy spike through their bond before she locked it down with impressive control.
She crossed the room toward him and grabbed her mouthguard out of her bag, pausing only to squeeze Adrian's hand. "Wish me luck."
"You don't need luck," he said, meaning every word.
Riley's grin was pure predator as she disappeared through the doorway leading to the arena floor.
Adrian made his way to the stands, his height allowing him to scan the crowd for familiar faces.
He spotted several pride members scattered throughout the audience, including three Council members in the VIP section.
Good. They would see Riley in action and understand exactly what kind of woman Adrian had chosen for his mate.
"Adrian! Over here!"
Riley's mother's voice carried over the crowd noise, and he spotted her waving from the front row. She'd saved him a seat directly behind the competitor's corner, close enough to see every detail of the fight.
"Thank you," he said as he settled into the chair beside her.
"Wouldn't dream of letting you watch from the nosebleeds," Tammy replied with a knowing smile. "You look nervous."
That was an understatement. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight with tension, his tiger pacing as they waited for Riley to appear. The bond between them hummed with anticipation, her focused energy bleeding through to mix with his own protective anxiety.
The arena lights dimmed, and the announcer's voice blared through the sound system. "Ladies and gentlemen, our first match of the day features two exceptional athletes in the women's lightweight division!"
Adrian's hands clenched as the first competitor was introduced—Jessica Martinez, a scrappy fighter from Nevada with an impressive record.
Then the announcer's voice rose to match the crowd's building excitement. "And her opponent, fighting out of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania—three-time national champion—Riley 'The Hammer' Vaughn!"
The roar that erupted from the crowd was deafening.
Adrian found himself on his feet along with everyone else, his pride in Riley so overwhelming it threatened to burst from his chest. Around him, he could see his pride members rising as well, their expressions shifting from skeptical curiosity to genuine admiration as they witnessed the respect Riley commanded.
She emerged from the tunnel with the predatory grace of a born fighter, her movements loose and confident as she made her way to the ring. When she spotted Adrian in the front row, her smile was brilliant enough to almost stop his heart.
Then the bell rang, and everything else faded away.
Riley moved like liquid violence, her technique flawless as she controlled the center of the ring.
Every strike was calculated and every defensive movement economical and precise.
Adrian caught himself leaning forward, completely absorbed in watching his mate demonstrate the skills that had made her a champion.
Through their mate bond, he could feel echoes of her focus, the way she read her opponent's weaknesses and adjusted her strategy accordingly.
It was like watching a master class in controlled aggression, and he realized she was putting on a clinic specifically for him—showing him exactly what techniques would be most effective in his own upcoming match.
When the first round ended with Riley clearly ahead on points, he felt a surge of fierce satisfaction.
But his elation was short-lived. The second round brought increased aggression from Martinez, who landed several solid shots to Riley's ribs that Adrian felt like physical blows through their bond.
His breath caught as pain flared across his own midsection, phantom but very real. Beside him, Tammy shot him a concerned look.
"You okay? You look like someone punched you in the gut."
"It's just intense watching her compete," Adrian managed, not quite lying. He couldn't exactly explain that he was experiencing his mate's fight secondhand through their supernatural connection.
As the third round began, Adrian consciously pushed his own strength and confidence through the bond, willing Riley to feel his unwavering support.
The effect was immediate—her movements became sharper, more decisive, her strikes carrying the kind of controlled power that separated champions from contenders.
The knockout came so quickly Adrian almost missed it. One moment Martinez was pressing forward, trying to land a desperate combination. The next, she was crumpling to the mat from a perfectly timed uppercut that showcased everything beautiful about Riley's technique.
The crowd exploded as the referee raised Riley's arm, and Adrian started shouting along with everyone else, his pride in his mate threatening to overwhelm every other emotion in his chest. Even the pride members were on their feet, applauding with respect for the display of skill they'd just witnessed.
Adrian was already moving before he consciously decided to leave his seat, pushing through the crowd toward the training area where Riley would emerge. He needed to touch her, hold her, make sure she was okay.
She appeared in the corridor just as he reached the entrance, her face flushed with victory and adrenaline. Without hesitation, Adrian pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply, not caring who might be watching.
"You were magnificent," he murmured against her lips.
Riley's laugh was breathless and exhilarated as she broke their kiss. "Did you see their faces? Your pride members looked impressed."
"They should be."
But before either could speak, Adrian caught sight of a familiar figure watching them from the shadows.
Darius stood with his arms crossed, his green eyes fixed on Riley with a piercing intensity that made Adrian's tiger snarl with possessive rage. The other shifter's expression was unreadable, but the predatory stillness of his posture spoke volumes.
"You need to get warmed up," Riley said, apparently oblivious to their audience. "Your match is in less than an hour."
"I know. I just need one more minute to celebrate your victory."
Riley rose on her toes and kissed him again, soft and lingering this time, her hand coming up to rest against his cheek. He caught Darius storming off in his peripheral vision, and Adrian realized his rival wasn't happy, but he couldn't bring himself to care at this moment.