As her mother pleaded for mercy and begged for Nola’s life, he cast his gaze through the car, exuding satisfaction when he spotted the toddler.
Real Nola bristled, remembering the way he’d reached inside and yanked out her mother.
Her mother met baby Nola’s gaze briefly, then focused fully on the man. “There is no baby in the car. You do not hear her. You do not see her.”
That hadn’t happened last time. Of course, she’d only seen the highlights then. But other little details had changed as well. Had Nola affected the past, and the timing of events?
“Save yourself, Momma,” Nola begged. To the man, she snarled, “Don’t you dare touch her!”
He gave no indication that he’d heard her as he rubbed his finger over one of his man rings. A bright light suddenly glinted off the pieces of broken glass in the road.
As Nola cried out, she missed bits of a conversation the man was having with...someone.
She forced herself to quiet, to listen.
“Is she the one?” he asked someone Nola couldn’t see.
“Yes,” a woman hissed. Unfamiliar voice.
Nola frowned. No one stood next to the Adwaewethian, or near the car, yet the woman’s volume suggested she stood nearby.
“Remove her heart and her head, then kill the child,” the woman commanded, almost gleeful now.
“There is no child,” he responded.
Nola gasped. He’d obeyed her mother. Her mother had been a royal, too, able to command beasts. She might not have known, but instincts had led her on this day. If only she’d told the man to walk away.
Fighting tears, Nola dove into the front of the vehicle. The warrior reached through Nola to grab her mother by the neck, and yanked her onto the street, pulling her through the shattered windowpane.
With a screech, Nola scrambled out the same way. “Let her go!”
“Calm down, little dove.” Bane’s deep baritone penetrated her awareness. “Please, calm down. Thrashing about isn’t good for your injuries.”
Injuries? She felt fine...kind of. As she blinked, the past waned and her golden god came into view. He was running through the forest, maneuvering around trees, clutching her close to his chest. Two packs were anchored to his shoulders, even the injured one, and they thumped his back with every step.
Oh...crap. She’d been punching and clawing at him instead of the assassin, and his face bore the brunt of her handiwork. He had a black eye, a bloody nose and a split lip.
Though she stilled, her heart continued to race. A lance of pain shot through her. A herald of what was to come. An instant later, excruciating pains racked her body. “Wh-what happened?”
“We crashed. Once I got you out of the vehicle, your body turned to mist, like it did on the island.”
When would the violence end? “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, but I need you to remain motionless,” he said, still running, running. “There’s a piece of metal embedded next to your heart.”
What! She reached up. When she wrapped her fingers around a small metal pipe, a whimper escaped.
“I will get you to safety, and you will heal,” he rushed out, desperation and concern tinging his ragged voice. “Do you understand? You will heal. Say it.”
“I will heal,” she whispered, the words slurred. Would she, though? Colder by the second. Shudders rocked her against him, aggravating the muscles around the pipe. “Where are we?”
“Don’t know. But I know where we’ll be.”
“Are we being chased?” The road portal...she didn’t remember seeing anyone standing within it, or near it, but someone had opened it.
“We are. Ronan and Petra are combatants working together. Perhaps dating. Ronan has a glowing sword able to temporarily blind his opponents, and Petra has a sword able to create instant walls out of any material it touches. Metal. Ice. Bone.”
She remembered both of those weapons from the cavern battle, especially Petra’s. The beautiful female had swung at Bane and a wall of ice had grown from the floor.
Her dark side whispered, I want the couple dead, killed by my hand. I want to rip out their hearts and feast. I want to take their weapons and slay the man who murdered my parents. I want to hold their hearts in my hands and rejoice as the organ performs its last beat.
Nola...agreed. Her limbs even vibrated with excitement. Gimme.
Just then, she understood Bane’s desire for vengeance in a way she hadn’t before.
“Bane,” she purred. The attempt on his life was another sin to lay at the couple’s door. A sin her dark side used as fuel, gaining new ground inside her mind...and her heart?
“Yes, dove?”
“Be a dear and kill them both, but save their hearts for me.” I could use a snack.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
What to do when he’s the king of cling
THE BEAST RAMMED at Bane’s skull, anxious to escape, as he sped through a dense, moonlit forest. Tree limbs slapped his face and arms. Sweat dampened his skin, and he labored for every breath, the internal damage caused by the car wreck inundating him with pain. With one hand, he clutched Nola close. With the other, he continually sliced his palm on a dagger blade and flung blood over foliage to create a noticeable trail for their pursuers to follow. He had a plan.
His most violent instincts demanded he stop and fight. Will make Ronan and Petra pay! Alas. The well-being of his princess mattered more.
Did Nola realize she’d asked him to kill the couple and save their hearts? Did royal instinct demand she eat the organs to absorb the strength of her enemies? Every queen experienced the urge at some point.
He’d convinced himself Nola would be different, that her iron will might save her from such morbid desires, that she wouldn’t grow to crave the act, as Aveline and the other royals had done. Now...
He gnashed his teeth. If he performed the Blood Rite, he would lose sweet, giving and passionate Nola.
Can’t lose her. Not her.
Damn it! The woman was more dangerous than he’d ever realized. She’d done what no one else could: she’d snuck past his defenses, past internal barbed wire and into the maximum security prison known as his heart.
Did he love her? No. He didn’t. He didn’t! He wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t. Love without strength was misery. But he did care for her.
Can’t lose her, he thought again. Can’t relinquish my vengeance, either. Even the thought made him feel like he’d ripped out his rib cage and exposed his organs. As much as Bane hungered for Nola—franticly, frenziedly—he could not allow Aveline to live. She would only torture and torment his brethren. Would not allow her to enjoy life while her victims rotted in their graves.
Get Nola to safety. Figure out your next move.
The princess moaned and mumbled, “Hurts.” How much blood had she lost? The yellowish pallor of her skin and the blue tinge of her lips suggested a lot.
He bit out, “I know, dove,” and placed a hasty kiss on her brow. “If you can, rest. I’ll make you better once I’ve dispatched our pursuers.” If his plan failed...
Don’t let it fail.
What if she became mist again?
Why turn to mist in the first place? Had to be a unique supernatural ability all her own. But what was its purpose?
When he felt he was the perfect distance from their hunter—timing mattered—he opened a portal to a lavender field overseas...also a base camp that belonged to Ranger, a savage warrior able to spew fire from his fingertips.
If Ranger had returned to the camp, he could dispatch Ronan and Petra. At the very least, Ranger could keep the couple occupied while Bane tended to Nola.
Hoping to convince Ronan and Petra that he’d gone through it, he flung blood onto the lavender stalks. Has to work, has to work. Then, he hid nearby. He placed Nola on the ground as gently as
possible, careful not to jostle the metal that protruded from her shoulder, and palmed two daggers. She was wide-awake, her features pinched, her skin more pallid than before, little wheezes leaving her with every labored exhalation.
Voice low but rough, he said, “Be as quiet as you can, dove.” The portal would remain open for sixty—fifty—seconds.
Impatience gnawed on his nerves as he waited for Ronan and Petra to show. Forty...thirty.
Twenty.
Nola didn’t reply or move an inch. Fear and impatience sharpened into all-consuming panic. “Just a little longer, dove,” he whispered, feeling like he’d just swallowed a mouthful of rusty nails. “Hold on for me.”
Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen.
The beast continued ramming into his skull, agitated beyond measure, and Bane didn’t know if his companion wanted to murder Ronan and Petra extra bad, or strike at Nola while he had the chance. Or both.
She’s off-limits, now and always.
Ten. Nine.
At last, the couple entered his line of sight. They followed the trail of blood, as hoped.
Seven. Six.
Would they make it through in time?
Yes! With only two seconds to spare, the fools darted through the portal. The doorway closed.
Knowing they could return at any moment, Bane shut down all emotion and straddled Nola’s waist. A sliver of moonlight bathed her precious face, allowing him to watch her expression as he wrapped a hand around the pipe. With the other hand, he wadded up a brand-new T-shirt.
Her irises glazed with anguish. “I—I know what you’re planning, and I d-don’t want you to do it.”
Even in the face of excruciating pain, she refused to make a demand. No wonder he cared for this amazing woman. She was a rare and wondrous unicorn. And I’m about to make her bleed.
“I’m so sorry, dove, but you cannot begin to heal until the pipe is removed.”
“Please, just take me to a hospital. They’ll knock me out and—”
With a fierce yank, he removed the pipe and pressed the wadded-up shirt against the gaping wound left behind. As she bowed her back and screamed into the night, birds took flight. At least the material absorbed spurts of arterial blood.
Shakes plagued Bane, his chest clenching. “I’m sorry, dove, but I must do more.”
“What do you mean—no,” she cried when the answer crystalized. “Please, no. I’m begging you. Won’t this start the Blood Rite?”
Clench, clench. “I’ll be careful.”
“Bane—”
“I’m sorry, but I must cauterize your wound or you will bleed out. I’m begging you. When the pain hits, do not fight the urge to pass out.”
She went quiet, tears pouring down her cheeks.
Hating himself, Bane used his free hand to rip off her ruined top. His stomach rebelled at the sight of her crimson-streaked pale skin.
He was responsible for this. She’d placed her life in his hands, and he’d failed to protect her. She should hate him, too. By the time he finished patching her up, she just might.
I’d rather she live hating me, than die thanking me. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Out of options, he tilted his head, letting the beast spit fire into his throat.
“Please.” She planted her feet on the ground and tried to scoot her entire body away from Bane, but as weak as she was, she only moved an inch, and it clearly agonized her. “Don’t—”
Hardening his heart, he leaned down and blew into her wound. Crackling embers poured from his mouth, spilling over torn muscle and flesh. One of her bra straps got charred. She bowed her back again and unleashed another scream. A real glass-shatterer.
Her voice broke. She moaned and sagged against the ground. Even now, she remained awake, all quiet strength and courageous heart.
He readjusted the backpacks and opened a portal to the road they’d previously exited, then gathered Nola close. A storm brewed, the air damp. Thunder boomed in the distance, lightning splitting the black sky.
With a reedy tone, she asked, “How did the combatants pinpoint our location?”
“I don’t know, but I will find out after I’ve secured another conveyance.”
He flagged down a vehicle and forcibly removed the owner. Utilizing the skills he’d picked up by watching Nola, he drove. Poorly, yes, but well enough to ditch their current location.
He cast her a glance, relieved to see her injuries had begun to heal supernaturally. Perfect timing. The sky opened up and hammered the land with punishing rain.
He drove a good distance, chattering nonstop to distract his princess from her pain. “I bet you’re curious about Adwaeweth. The entire kingdom is made up of six worlds. I won two of them in an All War. On five of those worlds, citizens live under a mystical dome. The sixth one is pitch-black and doesn’t need one. Within each world, there are multiple territories ruled by princesses subject to Aveline. My mother was a breeder, and she chose my father as her mate. They had three boys, including me, and a girl. But, within a twenty-year span, my father offended Aveline, and Aveline...she ate his heart. My mother refused to choose another mate, so Aveline ate her heart a mere two months later. Both of my brothers were killed in an All War, and my sister died in childbirth, along with her baby. Fast-forward another hundred years, and I refused to fight in a third All War, so Aveline killed Meredith.”
Meredith had been his bright light.
“So much tragedy,” Nola muttered from the back seat.
“Tragedy after tragedy, loss after loss.” Not sure how many more I can withstand.
“No wonder you prefer warrior women.” She struggled to an upright position.
“Easy,” he said, worry overshadowing his relief. “What did you mean?”
Shoulders rolling in, tone sad, she said, “You’ve admitted you cannot survive another loss. So, now you choose the people most likely to survive any future hardships.”
Her observation...made sense. The fact that she saw him...that she’d begun to figure him out... “Look at all you have survived. What you will survive.”
A vivid flash of lightning momentarily lit up the entire vehicle, spotlighting her. He examined her through the rearview mirror. Pain etched every inch of her beautiful face, but also wonder.
Wonder? So out of place. What had caused the emotion?
When the storm lightened, he abandoned the car. Human enforcers might already be on the hunt for it. He carried Nola to a nearby RV park. At some point, she fell asleep, the hard patter of rain creating the perfect lullaby.
He worked a T-shirt from a backpack to drape over her face and chest. Then, using the money Nola had gotten by selling the jewels, he purchased an older RV. He must have overpaid, because the owner spotted the stack of cash and squealed.
After laying Nola in bed, he removed her shoes and pants, but left her undergarments in place. Too keyed up to rest, he searched the RV—a home on wheels. Small, but functional. There was a floral-print couch and a large black screen. The tiny kitchen had a stove and sink, counter, and a foldable table and chairs. In back, the world’s smallest bathroom and the only bedroom.
Nola remained curled up under the covers, silken hair spread over a pillow. Raindrops had collected in her lashes. Or were those droplets...tears? Clench. Thankfully, her wounds had fully closed. Some of the char had even faded from her flesh. She would make a total recovery. So why was he shaking, his defenses crumbling? Why couldn’t he get over how close he’d come to losing her?
No more waiting, he decided. He wanted her, wanted everything she had to give, so he would fight for her with every weapon in his arsenal. If he could win her away from Vale in the process...even better.
Bane trudged to the couch and emptied his pockets. He traced his fingertip over the photograph of young Nola, his chest constricting once more. Harder. She radiated such joy. Joy he would tou
ch...possess, if only for a little while.
As he read the article she’d written, a half smile made an appearance. Nola’s top three tips for going from enemies to lovers? 1) Focus on the positive, but don’t shy away from discussing about the negative. 2) Exchange insults for praise. 3) End every argument with a kiss.
Thank you for the advice, little dove. I’ll be heeding every word.
Bane was done resisting his desires.
* * *
NOLA STRETCHED HER arms overhead, arched her back, straightened her legs and blinked open her eyes. A slight pain in her shoulder made her wince...and unleashed a wealth of memories. The crash. Bane playing the part of Nurse Ratched. Carrying her through the rain. Driving. The RV park.
Heart pounding, she jolted upright and took stock. A bedroom, with a bed and two nightstands, but nothing else. There was a single window, flashes of lightning filtering through a crack in the curtains. The storm hadn’t eased, the air electric.
“Bane?” The bedroom door was open, letting her slide her gaze over the rest of the mobile home. There wasn’t a lot of space, but what was there was clean. No sign of her warrior.
She looked herself over next. She wore the black bra with a broken strap, matching panties and dried blood. Her wound had closed, even the scab gone, thanks to Bane’s ministrations and supernaturally fast healing.
Had he enjoyed his future queen’s pain? He certainly hadn’t hesitated to yank out that pole, or spit fire into her wound. But...
I’m so sorry, dove. Anguish had saturated his voice. No, he hadn’t enjoyed her suffering. The realization hugged her heart. But...if that little bit of his fire had hurt—oh, had it hurt—how much worse would the Blood Rite feel?
Nola tottered from the bed. Her knees shook, but didn’t buckle. She dug in a pack, grabbed an energy bar and ate. Fuel equaled energy. She checked her phone, hoping to see a message from Vale or Zion. Bane, too, even though she hadn’t yet taught him the technological ropes.
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