Rage hit her, and hit hard, her dark side utterly taking over. I will slaughter the queen and her soldier. And every member of their families!
“We will discuss it upon your return.”
“Very well,” he said. “Is she the one?”
“Yes,” Aveline hissed, clearly giddy. “Remove her heart and her head, then kill the child.”
“There is no child,” he said.
With a snarl, Nola edged closer. Closer. Careful. Do not draw their attention.
Too late. Aveline looked her way. The queen’s jaw dropped. She sees me?
Step, step, running now. Finally, Nola slammed into Micah—
No, she slammed inside Micah and stayed put.
She’d possessed his body? Did she have control? Could she force him to clasp a dagger and stab himself to death? Maybe, maybe not, but she was expelled before she found out.
Scowling, he wheeled around, his gaze darting wildly. “What just happened?” he demanded. He’d sensed her presence, hadn’t he?
Eager, all but foaming at the mouth, Nola tried to jump back inside him...and ended up flat on her back, her world going dark.
She heard Aveline say, “There was a girl. A royal with long black hair, dark eyes and pale skin. Go. Find her before she finds you. Kill her.”
“Who is she?” Micah asked.
“Who isn’t as important as when.”
She knows I time-traveled?
“Nola!”
Bane’s voice. She blinked open her eyes to spy a panting, sweating Bane above her. She was panting and sweating, too, her heartbeat erratic.
Her brow furrowed with confusion. They were on the floor of the RV, as naked as jaybirds. “I—I don’t understand.”
“As mist, you threw yourself against a wall. You should have gone through it, but you bounced back, as if tethered to the room. When you tried to take another run at it, I stepped in front of you. You didn’t bounce back, but you did injure me, despite your intangibility.” Cuts marred his face, blood dripping. “Were you able to prevent the accident?”
The awfulness of everything she’d witnessed returned in a rush, shattering her heart into a million pieces too small to ever be put back together.
There was so much to unpack. Later. Right now, the figurative blade Bane had sunk into her chest twisted. Pain flared, and a ragged moan escaped. How much could one girl endure before she waved the white flag?
“There’s a warrior. Micah,” she said, and Bane stiffened. “He’s coming for me.” His mistake. When he finds me, he dies.
She didn’t dismiss the murderous thought. No, she let it hang out and settle in, getting comfortable. Yes. I’ll kill him the same way he killed my mother.
“I’ll protect you from Micah,” Bane said, teeth clenched.
“I don’t... I don’t want your help.” The man who’d asked his lover to save his dead wife didn’t get to play knight in shining armor. Vengeance is mine! She pushed and pushed, more and more frantic. “Get off me. Now!”
Finally he eased back. Brows drawn tight with concern, he said, “Dove, please tell me what’s wrong. Did something happen?”
Share her deepest hurts with her one-night stand? No, thanks.
Fresh tears welled and fell, his image blurring. Voice as broken as her heart, she said, “Don’t call me dove. Don’t call me anything! Just...get away from me. Please, just get away.”
When he eased back a little more, she rolled to her side, curled into a ball and sobbed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The secret to lowering his guard down!
WHAT HAD HAPPENED to Nola?
Bane picked her up as gently as possible. Her tears rained over his chest, stinging like acid, and she shuddered with increasing intensity. Though her weight barely registered, the gash in his shoulder tore, growing longer, wider. He didn’t care.
Nola’s good humor had survived a trek through the arctic, abduction—twice!—separation from her sister, bomb blasts and Bane’s poor treatment. Until now, nothing had broken her.
What had she seen? He could guess the reason Micah had been there—Aveline had snuck him onto Terra to kill any and all royals.
Rage boiled in Bane’s veins, a shout of fury rushing up his throat; he gritted his teeth, muffling the sound. The bitch had only ever left destruction in her wake.
In two weeks, the war will end, and Aveline’s downfall will begin.
Fourteen days. Both a blink and an eternity.
In three easy strides, he carried Nola to the bed and eased her upon the mattress. Pitching her body to the side, she poured her misery into a pillow.
As a boy, he’d witnessed his mother and little sister crying. During the course of his relationship with Meredith, she’d cried only once, when Aveline beat her to a pulp for daring to “speak out of turn.” Before that fateful day, a woman’s tears hadn’t bothered him; he’d known he could fix the problem, whatever it was. This gutted him. How could he repair a past he couldn’t visit, and an ability he didn’t understand?
During moments of emotional upheaval, Meredith had requested his absence, always. With Nola, he didn’t ask for permission. He simply settled atop the mattress, propped his back on the ruined headboard and shifted her against his chest. To his surprise, she didn’t resist.
As he stroked her silken hair and cooed nonsense in her ear, she calmed. However, the opposite proved true for Bane. He continued to recall the devastating pain he’d seen in her eyes. What had she seen?
Although, if he were honest, he’d admit she’d experienced pain before traveling to the past. He replayed the last hour in his head. After her climaxes, she’d been happy. Glowing. They’d spoken of her ability to time-travel and—
Comprehension.
That. That was when this awful pain had first made an appearance. Because, after parting with her virginity, her lover asked her to save his wife. Now, regret ambushed him.
Upon Nola’s return, the pain had increased. So, something she’d discovered had totally and completely upended her world.
Never should have asked her to go back. He should have left the past—Meredith—alone. Drogo had protested her actions and her absence. Loudly. The beast wanted Nola, though he still wasn’t sure he liked her.
Bane was tired of dragging around so much baggage. Clawing guilt because he’d failed to save her. A constant, seething well of remorse. Never-ending sorrow. If Nola did save Meredith, it would all would vanish. Poof! He could make up for his mistakes.
The other part of him felt clawing guilt as well, but not for the same reason. He would love Meredith for all time, but he didn’t...crave her the way he once had. Surrounded by Nola’s sweet scent, he knew the cravings would never come back. His body wanted her, only her.
Cursed if I save my wife, cursed if I don’t.
No, no. If Meredith walked into the room, he would be overjoyed.
To see a long-lost friend.
Damn it! A jagged pang ripped through him. He had no idea when it had occurred, but a part of him had already said goodbye to Meredith. The desire to be with Nola consumed him.
Without consciously registering a command to move, Bane tightened his hold. She’d turned him into a conduit for pleasure. The more his civilized veneer had stripped away, the more she’d loved it. She’d even pleaded for more.
Had the woman beguiled him, or the newness of it all?
No need to ponder. Absolutely the woman. She cracked penis jokes and looked at him as if she’d die without his touch. She laughed with abandon, and cared about his well-being as a man, not just a warrior. Her quiet strength constantly astounded him. She made him want a future.
He’d underestimated her—and so would Aveline.
Heaving a sigh, Nola sagged against him.
“I’m sorry, do—Nola. I shouldn’t have asked
you to go back.”
She flouted his apology, saying, “I...I’m ready to tell you what I saw.” Her voice was little more than a croak.
Aching for her and all she’d suffered, Bane kissed her temple. “Tell me everything. Every detail. Let me share your fury and pain.”
A lone tear splashed onto his sternum. “A warrior named Micah stepped into the center of the road, and my dad swerved to miss him. The vehicle flipped.” Shuddering breath. Then, a transformation occurred. Her tremors tapered off, and her tears dried. Tension seeped from her, chased away by emotional frost.
Nola had just shut down. Something he’d done countless times himself. A defense mechanism he used to help himself win those All Wars. The fact that Nola was doing the same, her torment so great she couldn’t afford to feel anything...he had to combat the urge to turn the rain-drizzled RV into scrap metal—with his claws.
Voice devoid of emotion, she recited the rest as if reading from a book. “My dad died on impact, but my mother survived. Micah approached the car. He wore rings like yours. One of them produced a beam of light, and Aveline appeared in the center of it.” There at the end, sorrow ignored her emotion-embargo and slipped free. “Before that, he yanked my mom out of the vehicle and stabbed her in the...the...throat. After it, Aveline ordered him to behead her.”
Bane jerked. What had Aveline said to him before? Oh, yes. A little over twenty years ago, I sent Micah to Terra in secret, with orders to slay every royal he came across, as well as search for you and Cayden.
“I’m so sorry, dove.” Another failure to lay at my feet. He kept messing up with her, kept hurting her, and it had to stop. She deserved so much better.
He rocked her back and forth, back and forth, offering comfort, but seeking it, too.
Sniffle, sniffle. “I’m sorry. Bane, I doubt I can save Meredith. I’m mist here and there. I tried to possess Micah’s body, so I could make him kill himself, but he expelled me like that.” She snapped her fingers.
Thoughts whirled. “With practice, I bet you can control his actions and change the past.”
“Yes, but how does that help you? I’m not sure how I travel to my own past. How am I supposed to travel to yours?”
Easy. “We are linked. We speak telepathically, and see through each other’s eyes. Therefore, it stands to reason you can see my memories, too.” But the same question remained—did he let go of the past or move forward? Would he crave his wife again if she were here in the flesh? “If you were to travel back to the day Aveline murdered Meredith, possess Aveline and save Meredith, the queen won’t send Micah to Terra. Your parents won’t crash.”
Her lips curled, but the smile got upstaged by another sob. “I’ll never go into foster care, never meet Vale or Carrie. I won’t be me.”
“But you suffered in foster care, did you not?”
“I did. And I can’t justify what some of the parents and siblings did to me and to Vale. But I wouldn’t be the person I am today without those trials. I wouldn’t be as strong—and don’t you dare tell me I’m weak.”
“Trust me, dove, I’ve already learned my lesson.”
She huffed, but continued. “As much as I needed Vale, she needed me. If changing the past means screwing her over, I won’t do it. Not now, not ever.”
If Bane hadn’t agreed to fight in the Terran All War, he never would have met Nola. Never would have enjoyed her brand of fun. Never would have learned her taste or feel the hot, wet clasp of her feminine walls. Those memories were meant to be savored, not erased.
Without him, another Adwaewethian would be sent to Terra. That representative wouldn’t hesitate to murder Nola, as ordered. He stiffened. She was right; changing the past meant destroying her future.
Or making it better? What good had Bane really done for her? He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Another warrior might prize her from the start.
“What if she betrays you, choosing Knox?”
“So many books and movies portray female friends as secretly catty and malicious to each other, but that isn’t real life. I know Vale. I love her. She loves me. I would rather die than hurt her, and she would rather die than hurt me.” Stiffening, she added, “While I won’t go mucking around in my past, I will muck around in yours. I mean, I won you over. I’ll do the same with whoever is sent in your place.”
Nola, with another full-blooded Adwaewethian? Heads will roll!
“I’ll do it,” she added. “I’ll travel back to the day your wife died.”
His chest clenched harder than ever before. So hard he was certain a rib cracked. “Why would you agree to that?” Letting me go without a fight.
The knowledge angered him. And damn it, the knowledge hurt like hell. Even though he was to blame!
Silence. Crackling with tension.
“Did you and your wife want to have children?” she asked softly.
Clench, clench. “We did. What about you? Do you want children?”
“I never let myself ponder the notion, too afraid I’d pass on my diseases.”
He heard sadness and despair, and rested two knuckles under her chin to tilt her head backward. A flash of lightning illuminated her lovely face, revealing tear-damp lashes and splotchy pink cheeks. But her eyes...
They broke him. Her pupils were blown, her irises an abyss of pain, both old and new. He wanted to slay her dragons, and offer their heads as gifts.
“Before any All War,” he said, “the queen issues a command—no children—and my body automatically obeys. That way, mother and child cannot be used against me. Upon my victory and return, she negates the order.”
“That’s sad. And awful. And horrifying! I’m sorry.” She swiped her watery eyes with the back of her wrist, his chest clenching all over again. “Will you try to make her reverse the order before she dies?”
He shook his head. “When you are queen, you can reverse it.”
“But not before?”
“Not before,” he confirmed.
She thought for a moment. “Let me rest and recharge, then I’ll try to navigate your memories.”
He needed more time to get his thoughts straight. “First, I must train you to fight.” Problem: if he trained her the way he’d been trained—the best way, in his estimation—he would have to break her bones again and again, so that she would learn to push through the agony. A roar of denial brewed in the back of his throat. “For now, get the rest you need. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
She closed her eyes, mumbling, “You stop my withdrawal and temper the effects of the diseases, but only when you’re close. I wonder if the next warrior will do the same.” Heavy sigh, muscles relaxing. Drifting away...breaths evening out.
The words destroyed him. He felt as though Zion had punched into his chest and squeezed his heart. Emotions are fickle, remember?
Never meet Nola Lee? Bane gave a violent shake of his head.
Confused by the conflicting deluge of emotions pouring through him, he continued stroking her hair. Though he wanted to hold her and never let go, he forced their conversation from his mind, a man on a mission. He extracted himself from the tangle of their limbs and stood.
After tucking the covers around her and smoothing a lock of hair from her damp cheek, his heart nothing but a hollowed-out cinder block, he stalked to the vehicle’s designated living room.
Time to respond to Aveline’s call.
Dread skittered through him, and the beast growled a protest. He couldn’t lie to her, but he didn’t wish to admit the truth, either. He’d have to be smart about this and guard his words.
Bane pressed his thumb against his communication ring. Light spilled from it, and Aveline appeared. The bitch had ordered her men to slay parents and children, yet she looked angelic, a white gown molding to her curves.
She glared at him, snapping, “You ignored m
e. Something you are only permitted to do if you are caught up in a battle. Yet I’ve heard no reports of a combatant’s death.”
The beast sharpened his claws and rammed against his skull.
Bane struggled to maintain a neutral expression. “Not all battles require bloodshed.” Truth. “What do you want, Aveline?”
“Micah contacted me. He was being held prisoner by a viking named Erik the Widow Maker.”
Bane cursed, but only in his thoughts. “How did Micah escape?”
“About an hour ago, a memory of a hybrid princess seemed to download straight into his mind. He bellowed curses about her, vowing to murder her, and Erik decided to let him go.”
Apprehension blended with foreboding, choking Bane. Micah had “remembered” what Nola had done when she’d traveled back in time. Aveline, too.
“Less than an hour ago, I awoke with the same memory,” she went on. “The princess is a memory manipulator, an ability once wielded by Jayne, the worst queen in our history.” Fear laced her tone. “I doubt you remember her. Jayne used her memories to change the past and the future.”
Do not smile. Don’t you dare. “Jayne,” he said, pretending to search his mind for information about her.
Aveline’s mother had killed Jayne while she was sleeping and stolen the throne. Then Aveline had murdered her own mother to do the same.
“Are you trying to say a hybrid princess is Jayne’s reincarnation?” He would have laughed if he hadn’t been busy shuddering. Rumors had forever abounded, of course, stating the strongest queens found a way to be reborn and reclaim their thrones, but Bane had never encountered one.
Was Nola a reincarnation? She had two things in common with Jayne. At least! The sickening before intimacy, and the ability.
“Either that, or the princess and former queen share a relative,” Aveline said, “though I believed we had sussed out and killed everyone in Jayne’s bloodline.”
No way Nola had lived a past life. He would have sensed it. She would have remembered it. No doubt Aveline’s second supposition was true. One of the breeders had come from Jayne’s lineage.
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