Chapter 17 Riley #2
"Yeah, I heard about that on the news too. The pride is concerned about her."
Riley felt a warm flutter in her chest at the thought of Adrian's pride caring about her wellbeing. "It's a partial ACL tear," she said. "I got lucky."
"That's a relief," Mark said. "Just drive safe, and I'll give you both space tonight."
As they pulled out of the hospital parking lot and headed back toward the countryside, Riley found herself dozing off despite her best efforts to stay alert. The pain medication was finally catching up with her, pulling her toward the peaceful darkness of sleep.
But even as consciousness slipped away, her last coherent thought was of tomorrow—and the satisfaction she'd feel when Adrian destroyed Darius in front of the entire kickboxing world.
Riley's consciousness surfaced slowly, like swimming up from the depths of a warm, dark ocean.
The familiar scent of Adrian and the soft cotton of his sheets anchored her to reality as her eyes fluttered open.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting golden rectangles across the hardwood floor of his bedroom.
Adrian sat beside her on the bed, his broad frame creating a comforting presence in her peripheral vision.
He'd changed out of his tournament clothes into a simple white t-shirt that stretched across his chest, and his dark auburn hair was slightly mussed as if he'd been running his hands through it.
His blue eyes, still flecked with traces of gold from earlier emotions, studied her face with genuine concern.
"How long was I out?" Riley's voice came out rougher than expected, her throat dry from the medication and stress.
"A couple hours." His voice carried that controlled gentleness she was learning to recognize—the way he spoke when his protective instincts were running high. "The pain medication and everything that happened today clearly wiped you out. I figured you needed the rest more than anything else."
Riley shifted slightly, testing the limits of her injured knee, and immediately noticed the thoughtful touches he'd arranged while she slept.
A glass of ice water sat on the nightstand beside her, along with two white pills that she recognized as the prescription pain relievers from the hospital.
Across the room, on the coffee table in the sitting area, she spotted a plate of sandwiches cut into neat triangles—the kind of precise presentation that spoke to Adrian's methodical nature.
She reached for the water first, grateful for the cool liquid against her parched throat. The domestic scene felt surreal after the chaos of the day—this powerful man who commanded boardrooms and pride politics had spent his afternoon making her sandwiches and watching over her sleep.
"Are you hungry?" Adrian asked, his gaze tracking her every movement with the vigilance of someone who'd claimed responsibility for her wellbeing. "You haven't eaten anything substantial today."
Riley's stomach chose that moment to growl audibly, making her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Starved, actually."
Without hesitation, Adrian rose from the bed with that fluid grace that spoke to his shifter nature.
His movements were purposeful as he crossed to the sitting area and returned with the plate of sandwiches.
The gesture was simple, but Riley felt the weight of care behind it—the way he'd anticipated her needs and acted on them without being asked.
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 her crutches to do it.
Darius had made this personal when he'd orchestrated her attack, and she intended to see him pay for it.