Page 60 of The Stolen Bride

“Your soldier failed you,” I muttered. I looked myself over with a grimace before sliding my feet into my combat boots.

“Nem. He acquired almost exactly what I requested.”

My gaze zipped to him. “You did not specify I go into battle like this.”

“Correct.” He gently chucked me under the chin. “You are missing the ruby choker and diamond toe rings.”

Chapter

Sixteen

When Nothing Adds Up: Nix the X to Solve For Y

–HOW TO TRAIN YOUR BERSERKER

By Elizabeth “Elle” Darcy-Bruce

Viktor steered me through the jungle. With an unofficial-official boyfriend I trusted and my heart no longer weighed down by thousands of emotion-filled bottles, I was able to do something I’d never done. Relax and soak up the ambiance. There were more flowers than I’d ever seen in one place. They scented the air with sweetness. Lush plants dripped with delicious-looking berries and razor-sharp thorns. Colorful birds and howling monkeys swung from vines.

Despite my ridiculous outfit, I had pep in my steps.

“Where are the shifters?” I asked, ducking under the branch he moved out of my path. I remained ready for an attack, but I saw not even a hint of the enemy.

“I think they realized they require a new strategy withyou, now that they comprehend you are capable of a rage-trance. I’m certain they’ll regroup soon. I only hope we reach Deco’s fortress before it happens.”

I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t, but I smiled. The thought of powerful shifters—the enemy—needing to redo their war-plan because of little ole me, well. Talk about a confidence boost! On the other hand…

“I don’t want to break again.” I despised not recalling what I’d done. The loss of control. The endless icy cold, where every thought died before my opponents.

“What you felt, that is what the shifters experience all the time. Or so the Valkara explained to me long ago.”

I grimaced. How terrible to live out immortality in such a way. Never satisfied. Never experiencing joy or peace or love. Always hungry for the misery of others.

Grrr. Was I seriously feeling sorry for the creatures who had attempted to murder me? I switched my focus. “Is Valkara still silent?”

“Ja.”

Good. “And how do you feel about that?”

“I am…unsure.”

Well, that was better than before, when he’d only welcomed her.

He slung his arm around my waist and helped me over a fallen log. “I’ve never required her aid more, but even apart from you, the fog remains thin now. It is the mist that carries her voice.”

“You hate the fog,” I reminded him. Hint hint. If the fog was awful, it stood to reason that Valkara was too.

“Ja,” he repeated, “but it serves a purpose. Just as the fog you experience does, which may come from her.”

I heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I’ve had the same suspicion.” Butdid that mean I should ignore my dream? Treat it as Valkara propaganda?

Tension exploded from him, as if he’d been hit with a bomb. “I think, perhaps, she hopes to convince you to accept death by my hand. What I don’t know is what she will do when I refuse.”

When, not if. The reassurance brought a cascade of warm honey over my soul. “I won’t ever accept that death is the answer,” I assured him. “Not even for the greater good.” So yes. I should ignore my dream. “The two ideas aren’t even compatible.”

“Agreed.”

I beamed up at him, and a sharp, electric awareness turned even the air I breathed into a caress. I noticed the confidence in his stride. The glint of sunlight against the bronze hues of his skin. How he flared and fisted his fingers, as if imagining all the ways he yearned to touch me.

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