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Old world.
Rule the lot.
Nero.
She grappled with familiarity. Her soul fought against it. Feeling the bile rise in her throat, she breathed deeply and gulped air.
Look at the beautiful river. Look at it sparkling in the sun.
“What’s wrong?” Leaf asked, straightening.
Words wouldn’t form on her swollen tongue. Her skin prickled. The horizon of trees and river swayed as those familiar words took shape in her memory.
From the old world.
He’s like you.
“Impossible,” she gasped, shaking her head. “You’re not Jace. So he can’t be… no…”
But was he?Shewas here, after all. Couldhebe here too?
“Nova.” Leaf’s tone turned sharp. “Tell me.”
She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. But that made it worse. “Gonnabesick.”
“Whoa.” Leaf reined in the horse, bringing it to a stop. She lurched to the side, intending to fall, escape, or go anywhere he wouldn’t see her vomit.
But he slammed his palm on her sternum and pressed hard, pulling her back to him. She gasped. Hiccuped. Looked down at the strong hand splayed over her heart.
Warrior’s hands. Dirty nails. Scars.
Not the manicured hands of an Ivy League-educated oil tycoon.
“Breathe.” His voice was hot gravel down her spine.
“Can’t.” She gasped through diaphragm spasms. “Let me off. Let me—”
“No.”
“No necesita tu ayuda!”She didn’t need his help. She tried to pull his hand away to escape.
The horse snorted and pranced.
“Stay put, Nova,” he growled, his hand unyielding. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”
She whimpered, resisting even though he made perfect sense.
With a grunt of annoyance, he slid his palm up to her throat and then supported her chin. His other hand pressed her forehead, pinning her head back to his chest as he leaned forward at the hips. All she could see was the horse’s mane. All she could feel was him.
He breathed deeply behind her, demonstrating how it should be done. His abdomen shifted against her spine with each lungful. Each exhale pushed hot air against her abused ear, tickling the skin of her neck. By his second breath, her lungs mimicked his. On his third, she relaxed so he could be her skeleton. His words became her thoughts. Her pulse was his to control.
“Good.” Deep, commanding, calming. “Again. Slower.”
Trembles wracked her body, chattering her teeth, but she breathed.
Nausea melted away.
Feeling rushed in.
