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She forced a grin. “Thanks for the weapon.”
Kill him. Kill him now or die.
Yes. No! Just knock him out. Whatever you do, do not hurt the Sent One.
Roaring, he leaped at her, and a lethal dance ensued. He struck, she blocked. She struck, he blocked. Didn’t take long to learn he had skill. The urge to end his life strengthened, beginning to cloud each of her thoughts. But still, she resisted. Bjorn might know and love this man. If she killed him, she might lose Bjorn. She’d definitely lose what little trust she’d managed to curate.
Can’t lose him. Just can’t. Not yet. Deciding to use Mr. Rage’s skill against him, she purposely allowed him to land a blow. When his dagger sank into her belly, he grinned, thinking he’d won.
As if a little internal body bling would kill her. The fool had left his side unguarded. She twisted, slicking the dagger across his throat.
His eyes widened, the color draining from his cheeks. He released the other blade to clutch at the injury, opening and closing his mouth to no avail. As an immortal, he would heal far too quickly, so, she didn’t stop there. Punch, punch—she blackened his eyes. Hopefully, they’d swell closed. Punch—she broke his nose. Punch—she knocked the air from his lungs yet again.
Again, he gasped for breath he couldn’t catch. She spun behind him to knee the backs of his legs, sending him crashing face-first to the floor.
Kill him!
“No!” She straddled his waist and raised the dagger, thinking to slam the hilt into his temple the same way Bjorn had once slammed his sword hilt into hers, knocking her out.
Then, she swung—
Chapter Seventeen
Ten Minutes Earlier
“The decision has been made.” The pronouncement came from Zacharel.
“Tell me the verdict.” Bjorn paced inside the man’s brand-new cabin, his sandaled feet practically stomping holes in the floor. Zacharel and his wife, Annabelle, sat nearby. Annabelle reclined on her husband’s lap, eating from a bowl of popcorn. Not too long ago, the dark-haired beauty had been locked inside a facility for the criminally insane, all because a demon high lord had murdered her parents and she’d taken the fall.
Before his marriage, Zacharel had an iron fist. Break a rule, and he would break your face. After his marriage, the male had an iron fist still, only it was encased in a silk glove. Break a rule, and he’d break your face, but now, he felt bad about it afterward.
Zacharel huffed a sigh. “I’m sorry, Bjorn, but Fox’s execution will proceed as ordered. Before the sun sets, you will remove her head.”
Heart beating his ribs bloody, Bjorn ground to an abrupt halt.
His boss wasn’t done. “You will remove her head and place it upon a pike outside of this camp. Forevermore, she will serve as a warning. Strike at the Sent Ones, and suffer.”
Denial screamed inside his head. Behead the woman he desired? The one he craved? The one he thought he might…need? “Why?” he demanded, though he already knew the answer. His loyalties were being tested.
“I am not privy to that information.” The male wrapped his arms around Annabelle, as if he feared she would be taken away and said, “I know you have come to care for the woman, and I truly regret the pain you will soon endure.”
“If it’s any consolation—” Annabelle began.
“Let me stop you there. It’s not,” Bjorn snarled, keeping his focus on Zacharel. “Fox is not a threat to us. She regrets her actions and strives to aid us.”
“Nevertheless.”
One word. A death sentence. Cursing, Bjorn stalked from the cabin. White-hot breath scorched his nostrils and lungs.
“Bjorn,” Zacharel called from the doorway. “Do not turn your back on the people who love you, guard your back, and always have your best interests at heart for a woman who uses you for protection and will betray you for money.”
How many times have I been blinded by prejudice, as Zacharel is right now?
All around, Warriors continued their work on the cabins. Hammering sounds provided a riotous soundtrack in tune with the pounding of his heartbeat. Anyone foolish enough to get in Bjorn’s way got mowed down.
Some part of Fox must have sensed this outcome. She tried to warn Bjorn, tried to get him to see past his hope for the best. Now…
Behead Fox? Never! When he failed this test, and he would, another Sent One would receive the assignment, and Bjorn would face a Tribunal—the judging of his actions and subsequent punishment. Perhaps he’d receive a suspension. When he actively protected Fox from the new assassin, however—and he would—his next punishment would be banishment.
Do I love her? Once he’d thought they would never work long-term, but here, in this moment, he could not imagine a life without her. He luxuriated in every aspect of her personality, dreamed and fantasized about her body, and loved spending time with her. The woman had become his safe haven. When they weren’t together, he missed her more than a limb. The thought of never holding her again…never breathing in her sweet scent or hearing her quips…
Very well, then. He would do it; he would fall. Anything to keep Fox safe! He cobbled together a plan. Speak with Fox, gain her cooperation. Speak with Thane and Xerxes. He would explain his reasons and beg his friends not to follow him. Though he’d always expected the two to fall with him, he thought he knew how to stop them—remind them that he needed soldiers on the inside, to mislead others about Fox’s location and listen for any strategies against him. Finally, he and Fox would flee.
And live happily ever after?
Bjorn entered the cabin he shared with Fox—only to see her pinning down a Sent One, a dagger raised to deliver a deathblow. Shocked horror propelled him closer. He clasped her wrist, stopping her.
“Release the weapon,” he commanded, squeezing her wrist tight. Too tight. Later, she would bruise, but he couldn’t let it matter. He’d decided to fall for this woman. He’d intended to give up everything he loved to save her life…just so she could murder more Sent Ones.
He didn’t…he couldn’t… Red dotted his vision, and fire scorched his lungs. Boiling blood rushed to his muscles, causing them to bulge. Betrayed my trust in the worst possible way.
“Do it!” he shouted. “Release the weapon before I take it from you.”
Fox yelped. Looking shell-shocked, she opened her hand. The dagger whooshed to the floor, landing with a heavy thud. Voice soft but ragged, she stuttered, “I—I wasn’t going to kill him, just knock him out. He attacked me.”
Though he tasted no lie, he did not believe her. You didn’t need to state the truth to negate the taste of a lie; you need only state a truth. About anything. In her mind, the “him” and “he” could reference anyone, rather than the male she had pinned.
“No Sent One would dare accost and harm someone in my care,” he grated. Distrust must have led her to attack, just as before. Meaning, she could not be trusted. Not now, not ever. Pang.
“He did,” she insisted. “Aren’t my injuries proof?”
“They are proof he fought back when you attacked!”
“I swear to you, he followed me—”
“Enough!” Bjorn pushed her away from the Sent One with more force than intended, and she stumbled to her ass. He hardened his heart and checked the male for a pulse. There! A cool tide of relief rolled over him. The pulse was a little fast, but steady. “He lives.”
“I know! I made sure of it.”
Another misdirection to prevent him from tasting the lie! “What is your endgame here?” he snapped as he straightened. “Did you think to hide the body? To destroy my army from the inside?”
For a long while, she simply stared up at him, mouth agape. He continued to wrestle with the truth. How he’d trusted and defended this woman. How he’d decided to risk everything just to be with her. To say goodbye to the life he knew, to forge a new future. The pain…
You are a fool!
Finally, she stood and wound her arms around her middle. She lowered her he
ad and drew in her shoulders. All emotion wiped from her features, one after the other. Shock—gone. Worry—gone. Heartache, fear and fury—gone, gone, gone.
Another, sharper pang tore through him. How fragile she suddenly appeared. How breakable. Vulnerable. As if she’d prayed for a knight in shining armor to ride in and save her from undeserved malevolence, but he’d attacked her instead. Another deception!
Rage spread through him like a virus, anguish close on its heels. He directed the rage at Fox just as much as himself. For the first time since his imprisonment and torture, he’d lowered his guard with someone other than Thane and Xerxes. And this is my reward.
