Recognizing that I’m struggling to keep it together, Maddox aids me to my feet before guiding me back to our idling SUVs. I hear a handful of men snicker about this being the first time a king has been beheaded by a queen, but they’re too cowardly to say it loud enough for Trey or Asher to hear.
I’d retaliate, but I’m too tired, hungry, and heartbroken to deal with their stupidity. They’ll suffer for their idiocy when I return their king to his throne. Their punishment will be as ugly as the blood-stained soil squishing beneath my feet.
They’ll pay for their stupidity with their lives, and I’ll be their executioner.
19
The further ourSUV travels down the unbeaten path, the thicker the black veins strangling my heart grow. They’re treating me like a fool, like their death will be the first one I’ve orchestrated.
They shouldn’t underestimate me. Nikolai was right: when forced between killing or being killed, you must always chose the former. That’s what I did during our escape. I placed us above anyone. I chose to fight instead of cowering like I did five years ago. I killed a man to save the one I love.
Trey’s eyes shift to me when I sit straighter in my seat. That’s the first memory I’ve had since I was found, and it opens a floodgate for many more. . .
“Ahren. . .” Shuffling rings through my ears seconds before wetness hits my cheeks. “Wake up,Ahren.You need to be ready to move. This could be our only chance to escape.”
Worried by the panic in Nikolai’s voice, I flutter open my eyes and rise to a half-seated position. My throat burns like it’s on fire, but it has nothing on the pain spasming in my stomach. I feel like I’ve taken a cannonball to my gut. It is warm to touch and back-bending painful.
“Are you sore?”
Not waiting for me to respond, Nikolai counts my pulse thrumming in my neck.
“Your cheeks aren’t as red as they were earlier, but I’d say you’ve still got a fever.” He snags an untouched bottle of water from his side before rolling it to me. “Drink only a little, okay?”
Nodding, I do as requested. The water is heaven to my parched throat, but it wreaks havoc with my stomach. It makes my cramps so intense, it takes all my effort not to bend in half. After forcefully swallowing the water with a grimace, I lower the bottle from my lips and return it to Nikolai.
“Better?” he asks.
Although I’m unsure what the hell is going on, I nod. “I think so. What’s that smell?”
My eyes snap to Nikolai when he says, “Jet fuel.”
Spotting nothing but honesty in his eyes, I scan our location. We appear to be in a tin box. There’s discarded rope scratching my left thigh, and some blankets that most airlines used in the nineties are spread across the metal floor I’m sitting on.
The knocks keep coming when Nikolai advises, “We’re in the stow of a plane. They started their descent approximately ten minutes ago. I’ve been trying to wake you since.”
My stomach launches into my throat when he gathers a shank-like instrument in his hand. The metal has been sharpened so profoundly, I wouldn’t be shocked to discover he’s been working on it for hours.
“How long have we been in the air?” I choke on the last half of my statement when Nikolai spins around to face me. He’s bleeding—a lot!
“You’re hurt!”
Air whizzes between my teeth when my attempt to assess his wound is thwarted by the clanging of metal. I’m chained to the underbelly of the plane. When my wide eyes return to Nikolai, I notice he too is detained.
“If I weren’t afraid of puncturing the shit-box we’re in, I would have removed them hours ago. Alas, their lack of funds forced me to be more inventive.” His voice is deeper than it usually is, his struggle physically seen on his face. He’s with me, but his mind is in a very dark, tormented place.
The thick material circling my wrist digs into my skin when I stretch with all my might to plant my lips on Nikolai’s. His deep exhalation when my mouth lands on his dries the moisture on my cheeks. It also reveals I made the right choice.
The briefest alignment of our lips brings him back to me. Not wholly, but he’s more recognizable than he was mere seconds ago.
After staring into his eyes so he can see the faith I have in him, I ask, “What do you need me to do?”
“Kiss me again,” he answers without delay.
With a smile, I do precisely that. We’re detained, but nothing can keep us apart. You can’t break two souls destined for one another.
Our kiss is barely a peck, but the emotions it ignites make it seem so much more.
“Now?” I ask after drawing back for the second time.
