by Lily Cahill
"Just let us go," she said. "He's not going to challenge you. And he can't abdicate from in here. The throne will be yours in a matter of days."
"Yes, it will," he said. "But I'm not letting you go."
"You don't need us," she said. "You could have left us alone."
"I always knew you would betray me, you know," he said. "Little Annika, my youngest and my boldest."
He must be in a good mood. She'd never heard him speak about her like that. But why? If he was happy, then she was even more nervous. He had something planned.
"But this time, little girl, you actually came through for your old daddy."
"What--what do you mean?" she asked, suddenly afraid.
"Remember the last time I sedated you? When you left the compound?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
"Well, it wasn't just to keep you from leading them back to me if you ran again," he said. "It also gave me a chance to implant you with a tracking device."
No. It couldn't be.
"Tiny one. State of the art. Did it right at the site of the tranq needle so you wouldn't even know it was there."
"You knew where we were the whole time?" she asked. "Then why did you wait?"
"My great-great-grandfather made a giant mess of the monarchy by trying to please too many people. He couldn't deal with disappointing anyone. He didn't know how to handle hard choices."
Annika didn't understand. What did some far-off ancestor have to do with anything?
"The line of succession is convoluted. That's why it switches between clans, and why I'm the last of the Zoltags in the ascension line at all. Second, to be exact, with no option of an heir to continue my legacy. My sons will never have the throne. If I die, it goes back permanently to the Rex lineage. To Maxwell's brother, Hudson, and his children thereafter."
The truth hit Annika straight in her gut. It was like a rock sinking her to the bottom of the ocean. She felt even colder than she had before. Cold and angry.
"You let me stay there, thinking I was safe, in order to--in order to--" She couldn't even say it. She couldn't force the words out of her mouth.
"To give him time to breed you, of course," he said, with a hoarse, coughing laugh. Smoke plumed from his mouth as he wheezed, making the air rancid all around her. "There was only one way to make sure we held the throne forever, little girl. Rejoin the lines of succession."
"No," she whispered.
"Oh, yes. And from the smell of you, it worked. You've got a little emperor growing in your belly."
"No," she said again, rage boiling inside her right next to the magic, the wonder. She had a child. She and Maxwell had made a child together. That single fact outshone everything else in her life. It eclipsed her. It even eclipsed Maxwell.
"You'll live long enough to bear him, and so will Maxwell. But no longer," he said. "I don't like runners. They're weak, useless. And when you're gone, I will be the Emperor Regent, just like that little fool, Colette. Only I'll keep my heir close. I'll keep him very, very close."
"Never," Annika growled. "You will never touch my child. I'll die before I let you."
Again, Dietrich Zoltag laughed. This time, his laugh was loud and cackling. It boomed through the space, echoing off the metal walls in cruel, rippling waves.
"Annika?"
She heard his voice. It was quiet at first, then louder.
"Annika?" he yelled. He sounded groggy, thick, pained. She was sure he'd been drugged too. The sound of his voice hurt her like a punch to the stomach. She wanted to help him--to bandage his wounds and wash the dirt off his skin--but she was just as trapped as he was. "Where is she? What did you do with her?"
"I'm here," she called, though it was through tears. "I'm okay," she said. It was literally all she could offer him--the knowledge that she was alive. She wouldn't tell Maxwell about the baby. She had decided that almost immediately. If she were to die, she wouldn't allow that knowledge to weigh on him too. This was her burden to carry alone unless and until they somehow made it through this alive.
"Aw," her father laughed. "Isn't that sweet?"
Annika ignored him. She could barely make out Maxwell's figure inside the cage as he shook the bars, trying to find a way out. There wouldn't be one. She knew that much.
"Calm down, Max," she said. "Try not to hurt yourself."
There were a few chuckles from her brothers. All the shouting had woken most of them up.
"I'm going to get us out of here," Maxwell shouted. "I promise you that."
"Somebody shut these two up," her father said. "They're making me ill."
One of her brothers stood and loaded a dart gun. It was Fritz, the cruel motherfucker. A needle would have been enough put them out. He wanted to hurt them while he did it.
"I love you," she shouted, not caring what her father or brothers said. She'd never said it to him before, but she refused to die without him knowing. "No matter what happens. I love you so much."
"I love you," he shouted back.
The words made the tears come faster to her eyes. She had been loved. If nothing else, she had been loved. She would fight for his life and for hers, and the knowledge of their love would give her strength.
"I promise," he shouted. "I'm going to--"
Fritz fired, and Maxwell went down before he could finish speaking.
Then Fritz turned to her.
"Nighty-night, sissy," he said.
She felt a sharp pain in her arm, and darkness overtook her once again.
Chapter Seventeen
Maxwell
Max woke to stinging, icy air pummeling him on all sides. There was something else, too. Shouting.
"Koh! Koh! Koh! Koh!"
It sounded like a battle cry, like the "hoo-yah" of the navy.
He opened his eyes and, through the bars of his cage, saw the sound was coming from the palace in front of him. Its white spires towered against the starry night sky. The palace was a place he always remembered. It had lingered in his dreams like an unkept promise ever since he was a child.
But why were they at the palace? And why was the palace shouting at him?
A shot fired, and Max realized it wasn't from his side. It too was from the palace walls. The palace was shooting at them, and he was still inside a goddamned cage. There was nowhere to take cover.
Shit.
He looked around and realized his cage was next to another one: Annika's. They'd been placed side-by-side on the snow, the first line of defense against the gunfire. Behind them, Dietrich's army stood under huge, bullet-proof shields.
Again, bullets rained down, pinging against the bars. From the looks of it, the shooters weren't aiming for them, but the ricocheting bullets could be just as deadly.
The gunfire didn't matter. Not as much as her. He bolted up and ran to the other side of his cage.
"Annika," he yelled. "Annika, wake up!"
"Shoot if you want to, Coley," a vile voice boomed through a megaphone behind him. It was the same voice he'd heard in the truck before. It had to be her father. "But you're shooting at your boy."
A whistle sounded far in the distance and the gunfire stopped all at once.
"Annika, wake up. Please, baby," he begged. He needed her awake, alert.
She stirred, but she looked groggy. She was still fighting the drugs in her system. That bastard had shot them full of tranquilizers and kept them knocked out for who knew how long. From the pangs screaming in his gut, and the dry tack of his mouth, he bet it was at least two full days. Without food or water. And he was freezing.
There was so much snow, so much cold. It reminded him of his month on Kodiak Island--the place in Alaska where they'd brought him and the other SEAL candidates to train them for cold weather operations. He'd hated it at the time, but he was thankful for it now. Cold was temporary. Pain was an illusion. He would not let it break him.
As cold as he was, he scooped snow from beyond the bars and lifted it toward her. "Come on, baby," he coaxed. "You
need water. Right now."
His words got through. She crawled toward him. Her body was in a weakened state, but she was strong.
Again, Dietrich Zoltag's voice boomed through the megaphone. "He dies unless you come out, Coley," he said. "Look at him. He's in no condition to fight. I'll shoot him myself unless you walk out those gates. No guards. No snipers. Just you, or the boy dies."
"He won't--" Annika said. She was struggling to even talk. "He can't shoot you," she said. "Me neither."
"Shh. It's okay." Max pushed his palm through the bars to hand Annika the snow he'd gathered.
She shook her head. "Too cold," she said. Her skin was blue, her lips purple, and she was shaking violently.
"You have to," he said. "As soon as the drugs are out of your system, we're going to be able to shift again. You'll be so much warmer then, right?"
She nodded.
"But until then, I need you to drink something. I think it's been a couple days. Have you had anything to eat or drink since we got captured?"
"No," she said.
"Me neither. Which means our bodies really need this. We'll do it together, okay?"
Again, she nodded. Instead of taking the snow from his hand, she reached out and scooped her own, then brought it to her mouth.
"Good. That's the way," he said, joining her. The snow was clean and clear, but damn cold. Ingesting it was almost unbearable. He thought about how warm his fur would be when he shifted. He thought about how he'd be bigger, stronger, and be able to take a shot at bending these damned bars.
All he had to do was get them out. The rest would be easier. He could handle battle. He could not handle being helpless.
Another voice boomed over the space. This time, it was coming from the palace.
"Don't shoot him. I'm coming out," it said.
It was his mother.
"Good girl," Zoltag boomed back. "Smartest thing you've ever done."
"No," Annika cried. "Tell her no."
But they both knew they were too far away for anyone to hear them.
"Max, if you can hear me, try to remember what I said about love," another voice called. It was Hudson this time. It was his brother. What did that mean?
Max wracked his brain to remember. When had they been talking about love? So much had happened in so little time. The evening with his brothers felt like it had happened weeks ago.
Love.
What had he said about love?
Max looked over at Annika, but she seemed similarly baffled.
God, how had he let them get into this situation? How had he let his mate land in so much danger? It was his job to protect her. It was his only job, and he'd failed.
Then the thought hit him.
His mate.
She was his mate. But not officially.
Sam's voice--not Hudson's--echoed in his head. Just wait until you see what happens when you two do your commitment ceremony.
Then Hudson's joined in too. As Mom would say, true love makes our kind stronger.
"Annika," he said. "What happens during a shifter commitment ceremony? To the couple?"
"I don't know," she said. "I've never seen one."
"Do you know anything about it at all? How does it work? What happens?"
Annika paused. "I only know one thing," she said.
"What?" Max asked, feeling desperate. They were moments away from this battle shifting irrevocably to the side of Dietrich Zoltag. The minute his mother walked out those doors unarmed, it would be over, and she would be dead.
Annika hesitated. "The woman ... she's supposed to tell the man her words."
"Her words?"
"Her sacred words," she said. "They're special, something that only works once, so it has to be to the love of your life."
"What works? What do the words do?"
"I don't know. It's supposed to be some sort of sign that you're a true match."
"Tell me more," Max said, his excitement rising.
"There's not much to tell. Everybody keeps it a secret. All I know is that the woman makes the commitment, and it seals them somehow. Like how you felt committed to me when you first saw me. That's supposed to happen for the woman, but only if it's a true match. My mother gave me my words when I was little. You're supposed to wait until the woman is older, but she ... she knew she didn't have long."
"Annika," Max said gently. "I know I said you didn't have to make any promises to me. I know I said I didn't care as long as we were together. But I think ... I think you need to tell me your words. Right now."
Her brow furrowed. He could see her concern, her fear. But he also hoped she could see his love, his hope for their future.
"I love you so much," he said. "I've loved you since the moment I first saw you. I know this isn't ideal, doing things like this. But I promise you I will do everything I can to make you happy every day of my life. Would you be willing--could you imagine spending your life with me too?"
Chapter Eighteen
Annika
Annika searched his eyes for a moment, her mother's face etched in her mind. The image warred with Maxwell's.
What should she choose? Safety or love?
"Yes," she said, shoving aside her fears.
Her mother's situation had been different. She knew that. Deep inside her heart, she had always known it. Maxwell was nothing like her father. He was the opposite. His love wasn't a trick. It was true.
"Yes?" he asked, his eyes wide and full.
"Yes," she repeated with a smile.
She knew Max loved her, and she knew she loved him too. She wanted to be with him forever. And right now, it was looking like forever might not last long. If today was their last day--or next week, or next year, or a hundred years from now--she wanted to know they belonged to each other.
"Then let's do it now," he said. "Let's have our own commitment ceremony right now."
"Okay," she said.
Through the bars, she kissed him. His lips were even colder than hers, but it sent warmth radiating through her.
He was hers, and she was his. No matter what happened, no one could take that from them.
"I love you, Annika," he said, taking her icy hands in his. "You're brave and tough and so beautiful it takes my breath away every time I look at you. I commit to being with you and only you for the rest of my life. I promise to love, honor, and protect you as long as we live. I've never wanted anything more than your love, and I will never need anything else as long as I have it."
"I love you too," she said, tears forming in her eyes. "You are the man I always dreamed of, but never knew existed. You're strong and honorable and kind. You make me so happy, Maxwell, and I want to make you happy too. I commit to being with you and only you for the rest of my life. I promise to love you with everything I have and to make our time together count, no matter how long we get to spend together."
Her strong man had tears forming in his eyes, too.
He reached out and cradled her cheek in his palm. "Will you give me your words, Annika?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. Then she leaned in and whispered them in his ear.
The moment the last word passed her lips, she felt a tug from her belly button, like a physical cord that was pulling her toward Maxwell. She gripped his hands tight as her eyes flashed wide open.
Something was happening to her, and she could sense it was happening to him too.
She could see him perfectly clearly, see right into his soul. And he was good--pure and wise and bold like she'd always felt he was. But now she knew it with a certainty.
He was her match. Her true love. There would never be any other who could love her like he did, and no other who could love him like she did either. He was hers.
The realization penetrated every cell in her body. It opened her soul to him in the same way he had opened to her from the day they'd first met. She could see his commitment and devotion, could feel it with the same intensity he had that first day. Wonder and love flooded her hear
t.
But there was something else, too.
Her bear was growing stronger--a lot stronger. It was as though the earlier version of herself had only been a seed, one planted to grow into a mighty oak. It had been watered by Maxwell's love. It had grown specifically to keep that love safe--to keep him safe.
This new bear was bigger, fiercer, faster. She knew it was--could feel it ready to break free--and she knew Maxwell's bear was stronger too.
She looked into his eyes one last time, sending him the message she hoped he could feel. It was time.
They shifted at the same moment.
Blood and sinew and fur warmed her bones. Her bulk filled the cage to bursting, and rage filled her chest.
This would end now.
With one mighty swipe of her claw, the roof above her tore open. The cage was nothing against her new strength. She climbed out into the snow, no longer cold, no longer afraid.
Next to her, she could see that Maxwell had done the same.
There was a collective gasp and murmurs behind them.
Together, they turned toward the small army her father had assembled. And it seemed so small now, so paltry compared to their combined strength.
"Annika," her father warned. "Don't do anything stupid. I can still kill your--"
She roared. It didn't matter what he would say next--her child? Her mate? She wouldn't let either be true. The sound of her roar echoed across the ice, beyond the palace, across the mountains. It rumbled the ground beneath her and shook her father to trembling.
He gave a signal and shifted into his bear.
Bullets began to fly from her father's army. One ripped into Annika's flank, but it felt like a mere pebble in her shoe.
With Maxwell at her side, she leapt into the fray.
Chapter Nineteen
Annika
Annika ran into the crowd of Zoltags with a fierce hunger. They shifted into bears like popping corn, but they were no match for her. With Maxwell by her side, she felt strong, invincible. She had made them both powerful with her love. More powerful than she ever imagined she could be.
