A dense, concentrated swirl of fury roiled in Solan’s stomach. He’d seen Boros hit Vegas. That was unacceptable. You did not strike such a beautiful, defenseless creature.

He broke into a run. The two guards protecting Boros raised their blades toward him.

Growling at the direct challenge they dared to present him, Solan slammed a fist into one of their throats before kicking the sword from his hand. He ducked as the second guard swung his blade at the back of his neck.

Balancing on his left leg, Solan pivoted and smashed his foot into the guard’s chest, sending him sprawling against the wall, the blade flying from his hand.

Without pausing, he righted himself and raced at Boros. The terrified look in Vegas’s eyes had him growling again, as did the bright red mark on her face where Boros had hit her.

Boros tossed Vegas to one side as if she meant nothing to him and pulled out his blade.

Solan was not carrying his weapon. He didn’t need it. He could take down Boros. The fury pumping through his muscles meant he couldn’t stop fighting even if he wanted to. And he knew Boros had grown slow and lazy since being promoted to brigadier.

Stepping back as Boros’s blade sliced through the air, Solan ducked around the side of the weapon and landed a punch on Boros’s chest.

The grunt of pain Boros made had Solan snarling. “You dare to attack my human?”

Boros spun around. “This one is yours?”

“She will be.”

“All the more reason for me to have her.” Boros sneered as he pointed his blade at Solan’s head. “I am your superior. You have no sway over what I desire or what I take as my own.”

“I have chosen her,” Solan said. “She is not available.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” Boros’s words were as sharp as the blade he so clumsily handled.

“We finish this here and now.” Solan didn’t want the hassle of having a formal Galaxar warrior ceremony. That would be what Boros would prefer, to have the fight in public. He would rig it so he would win. Solan knew Boros had used poison-dipped blades on previous opponents. At least now, just the two of them in this corridor, there was no one else to interfere.

“That is not the appropriate way,” Boros said. “You have laid claim to something I want.”

“What if that thing doesn’t want you?” Vegas stood in the corridor, her hand clamped over her cheek. “Don’t I get a say in this cock fight?”

Boros snorted. “You should be grateful either of us is interested in you.”

“Funnily enough, I’m not,” Vegas said. “You’re not fighting over me. Whoever wins still won’t get to have me. Only I get to decide that.”

“It’s too late for that,” Boros said.

The note of triumph in Boros’s voice made Solan pause. That sand sucking worm was up to something.

“It’s not happening.” Vegas raised her wrist comm. “Station security team to the East wing.”

There was no response.

She looked down at her wrist comm. “You idiot! You broke it.”

“Fortunately for us,” Boros said. “We don’t want your security interfering with private Galaxar matters.”

“This is not a private Galaxar matter,” Vegas said. “You’re on our space station.” She turned to enter Heather’s room.

Boros raced after her, wrapped an arm around her waist and spun her to face him. “I don’t think so.”

“Keep your hands off her.” Solan grabbed Boros’s shoulder. His skin was slick with mating oil and musk. Solan snarled. Boros had prepared himself, assuming Vegas would want him.

Boros swiped his blade at Solan, causing him to jump back to avoid his arm being sliced off. “She likes it. I have found a mate who will enjoy being restrained and dominated.”

“Wait! What?” Vegas bucked in Boros’s arms. “There’s no way in hell you’re going to do that to me.”

“Let her go.” Solan needed to get Vegas away from Boros without her getting injured. If Boros wasn’t holding her against his chest, he could attack him. “This is between you and me.”

“Solan! Look out,” Vegas yelled, her eyes widening as she looked over his shoulder.

Solan turned a second too late. Boros’s guards attacked from behind, a blade slicing into Solan’s shoulder and another spearing his thigh.

With a roar of anger, Solan swung his fists, slamming into the guard who’d struck his shoulder and sending him to the ground.

The second guard drew his blade out of Solan’s thigh and tried to plunge it in again. That was a mistake, giving Solan an opportunity.

He slammed a fist into the guard’s stomach. Despite the solid muscle he felt, Solan kept pounding. The guard grabbed him in a headlock, and they smashed out of the room back into the corridor.

Solan pinned the guard’s blade arm. He yanked the blade from his hand, forcing it against the guard’s neck.

“If you kill my guard, I will have you up on a disciplinary action.” Boros spoke from inside the room, his arms still clamped around a protesting Vegas.

“As if I care about that.”

Blood trickled out of a cut on the guard’s neck as the blade sliced through his toughened skin.

“You will care when you are stripped of all rank and forced to work in the mines on Comet Dembie. I will make sure you never hold a position of authority again. I will also ensure this human’s life is a misery. It will be punishment for what you have done to disrespect me.”

Solan stopped pressing the blade down. He didn’t want Vegas to suffer. “Let her go. We can negotiate.”

“There is only one thing I want from you,” Boros said. “Your head on the end of my blade. You have challenged me. I accept that challenge. We are to fight.”

“No,” Vegas said. “I won’t allow it.”

“As if you get any say in the matter.” Boros released his hold on her and pushed Vegas to one side.

“Neither of you fight,” Vegas said, her gaze flitting over Solan’s injuries. “We can come to an understanding.”

Solan shook his head. Vegas didn’t understand their ways. He appreciated she was trying to protect him, but he never backed down from a challenge. Especially not one from this over-inflated runt. “This is how we do things.”

“Solan has disrespected me,” Boros said. “I claim the right to gut him and take his head as a trophy.”

Solan growled. “And you have disrespected something I value. Vegas is not an object to be bartered over.”

She shook her head, confusion in her eyes. “This has gotten out of hand. I don’t want either of you.”

“Everything is clear to me,” Boros said. “This is not your business to meddle in, human.”

Solan slowly raised himself away from the Galaxar guard, keeping the blade pointed at him as he stepped back. “We will fight.”

“You can’t,” Vegas said. “You’ve been injured.”

Solan felt blood trickling from the wounds where the sharp blades had struck him. “I am battle capable.”

Boros laughed cruelly. “I agree. The winner of the fight gets Vegas.”

“I’m nobody’s prize in this ridiculous battle.”

Solan saw how confused Vegas was. It must be because of the blow Boros gave her. When she had a moment to think about this, she would see it made sense. When he fought Boros and won, there would be no need for her to be afraid. She could be with him. She would be his mate. He would protect her with his dying breath.

“I agree to the terms.” Solan focused on Vegas. “I will win this fight for you.”