Because she did love S’aad. She had from the moment she’d laid eyes on him, even if she’d lied to herself. Told herself that he couldn’t possibly love someone like her when no one ever had apart from her own brother. Then she’d lied again that he would be angry with her for her deception.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

In the end none of that mattered. In the face of his death, none of it mattered. She loved him, with all her heart and soul.

And she was about to lose him.

M’lak reached S’aad, sneering down at the fallen warrior for a moment before he pulled the dagger from the sheath at his waist.

But then… everything changed. S’aad surged to his feet before anyone could react and drove the dagger that had been lax in his own hand a moment before straight into M’lak’s heart. The sound of the blade piercing flesh was sickeningly loud in the sudden silence that fell over the room.

M’lak’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth working soundlessly as he stared down at the blade protruding from his chest. Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, he fell back and crumpled to the floor.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. No one dared to believe they’d just seen what they had.

“Foul play!” L’arr bellowed, his voice shrill with rage and disbelief as he pointed at S’aad. “This is impossible! He was dying!”

Prince Rohn’s voice cut over his complaints like the crack of a whip.

“Oh, shut the draanth up, F’Nyal,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

Everyone watched M’lak as S’aad stood over him, poised and ready to retaliate if M’lak got up again. But as they watched, M’lak’s chest rose and fell but then didn’t rise again.

A shuddering breath of relief escaped her. He was dead. The challenge was over.

With a cry, she shrugged out of Naomi’s hold and threw herself at S’aad. He caught her easily and held her close as she buried her face against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent.

“OhmygodIthoughtI’dlostyou!” she mumbled against his skin. “Ithoughtyouweredead!”

She pulled back to look up at him, her eyes searching his face for answers. His skin was still pale, but his eyes were clear and alert, and he was moving fluidly now, showing no signs of the poison’s effects.

He smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling with exhaustion and triumph.

“One of my research specialties at the healer’s hall was poisons,” he explained. “Most of my trials there involved dealing with intentional and unintentional poisonings. That’s why I don’t have as many scars as other healers. All of my trials were about overcoming being poisoned.”

He paused, running a gentle hand through her hair. The tender gesture brought tears to her eyes again. She never thought she’d feel his touch again.

“So when M’lak poisoned me, he inadvertently played right into my hands. It only took my body a moment for the antibodiesto kick in and purge the toxins from my system. The rest was playacting. I’m sorry I scared you, kelarris, but it was necessary.”

Her knees went weak with relief, forcing her to cling to him.

“So it’s over?” she asked. “I’m yours?”

His expression was serious as he looked down at her.

“Yes, my mate, it’s over. And I’m not willing to wait any longer for us to be formally bonded. Not after this.” He twisted and spotted Prince Rohn nearby with Naomi. “Your Highness, would you do us the honor of bonding us here and now?”

The prince nodded, his smile widening. “It would be my pleasure.”

Before she could process what was happening, Naomi and several other women gently pulled her away from S’aad.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Naomi said with a smile. “Let’s get you ready to get married. If that’s what you want?”

She looked back over her shoulder at S’aad, who smiled in encouragement.

“Yes,” she said firmly, taking Naomi’s hand. “I do.”

21