“Oh, man, those swords are pure beauty,” Mal said.
He heard reverence in her voice as she eyed his weapons covetously.
“They were designed for me. They’re kilwar blades.”
“Incredible craftsmanship.”
Rhain turned his wrist and held one out to her.
She gripped the hilt. “It’s too heavy for me to use for very long, but it isn’t as heavy as I expected.” She sliced it through the air, her gaze shifting to the crouched hexid.
Two more hexids appeared out of the darkness.
Gorr. He didn’t need hexids in his dreams as well.
Rhain lifted his sword and charged it with energy. Lights on the kilwar lit up, glowing red.
“Wow.” Mal’s brows winged up. “You’ll have to show me how to do that.”
“You need to be Zhalton, unfortunately. We can charge our weapons with energy.”
“Oh, well, guess I’ll have to make do.” She lifted the sword.
The hexids charged.
Rhain leaped, his sword raised. He sliced at the lead beast and black blood sprayed.
Beside him, Mal wielded his second kilwar with shocking skill. Her style was different, but no less effective. She slid low and stabbed the hexid in the gut. It bellowed and she yanked the blade free and sliced through its thighs.
Auroras above, she could fight.
He was distracted by Mal, so he didn’t see the third hexid until it slammed into him.
It might be a dream, but he still felt the sting of claws raking him. The pain felt very real. The beast took him to the ground, pinning his sword under one giant claw.
Suddenly, a kilwar sliced along the hexid’s side. Mal let out a cry and reversed direction, opening up a wicked gash on the hexid’s body. With a pained yelp, it leaped off Rhain.
He took Mal’s outstretched hand and jumped up.
“Okay?” she asked, her gaze on the injured hexid.
“Yes.” Thanks to her.
Around them, more hexids blinked into existence.
“Our shared dream sucks,” Mal said.
Rhain pulled in a breath and lifted his sword. “It started off fine.”
Mal grinned. “You ready to fight, your Overlordness?”
The way she twisted his title, with a hint of teasing, should have annoyed him. They moved, pressing their backs together.
“I’m ready,” he said.
The hexids attacked.
Rhain’s and Mal’s swords sliced and slashed.
They spun, twirled, and lunged, working together in perfect synchronicity as they cut down beast after beast.
Whenever he stepped back, she was there, moving forward.
He hacked into a large hexid, and heard Mal grunt, taking down another one. Thick, black blood stained the grass.
Finally, he lowered his sword, his chest heaving.
All the hexids were dead.
With the auroras dancing overhead, he turned.
Mal grinned. “You know how to show a girl a good time, Overlord.”
He smiled back. His gut was hot, his blood heated. All he could see was her.
He strode toward her. Her grin faded, leaving only plain desire on her face. He slid his free arm around her, hauling her close. Then he wasn’t sure who moved first, her or him.
Their mouths collided.
Rhain deepened the kiss, desperate for the taste of her, for more of her.
Then he blinked and she was gone.
His eyes snapped open. He was lying alone in his bed in his shadowed room, arms empty and cock hard.
The auroras danced outside and he tasted the spice of Mal on his lips.
Mal sat in her chair and glared at the goddamned band on her wrist.
She’d been fiddling with the stupid thing all morning and was no closer to working out how to get free. She growled. Tavith had brought her a tray of weird food for lunch—some of which had been a salad made of flowers. The doctor had assured her they were edible and nutritious.
She had no interest in eating flowers. She’d kill for a steak.
She dropped back in the chair. There had been no sign of his Overlordness. Clearly, he’d had better things to do today.
Mal was actually glad.
She’d had the craziest dream during the night. Of touching Rhain, fighting beside him with one of his super-cool swords, and then kissing his brains out.
Crossing her legs, she squeezed her thighs together, a little embarrassed that she was totally turned on. She heaved out a breath. Having sex dreams about her alien captor was probably a really bad idea.
She really needed to get out of there.
She looked at the dreaded band again. It glowed red. Mocking her.
She’d tugged it, yanked it, tried to cut it, stretch it. Nothing. The more she did anything, the more it tightened.
Her gaze narrowed. Hmm. She relaxed, letting her body go lax. She imagined lying on a pristine beach, the sun warm on her skin. She closed her eyes. In the distance, she saw a man walking toward her. His chest was bare, his dark, shaggy hair framing his rugged face.
Rhain.
Get out of my daydream. Damn, she couldn’t escape him.
Dragging in a breath, she pictured her empty beach. Then totally calm, she touched the band and imagined it releasing.
The band began to heat and the hairs on her arms rose. It was growing hot enough to burn her skin.
Ow, ow. Oh, shit.
Then it fell off.
Mal blinked. She rubbed her wrist and smiled. Hot damn. Finally, a break.
Quietly, she moved to the open door to the balcony. Tavith had opened it earlier to give her some fresh air. She slipped outside. The afternoon sun hung in the sky, heading toward the distant horizon.
One of those cool flyers moved overhead. It was near soundless, just making a slight buzzing noise. She watched the shimmer of energy within the huge circles in the wings.
She’d kill to sit in one and get her hands on the controls.
Mal shook her head. Right now, she needed to get out of this palace. Her plan was to find some shoes, supplies, and a weapon.
And find out how to get to the Badus Mountains.
She peered over the balcony railing. The buildings were made of smooth, white stone, but there were several ornate elements that stuck out, forming convenient handholds.
Her dizziness wasn’t too bad at the moment, thankfully. Guess it was time for a climb.
She swung her leg over the railing, and maneuvered so she was pressed flat against the wall. She started to climb down. Hopefully no one spotted her.
Nothing to see here, move along.
Mal shifted carefully, then glanced down. Multiple terrace levels below formed the city. But then she made the mistake of looking all the way down to the lake.
The blue, flat water was really far down. Her stomach turned. She was a pilot. She didn’t mind heights… From the safety of a cockpit.
“Suck it up, Mal,” she muttered.
She focused on the rock wall and kept moving downward.
She heard voices, laughter. The citizens of Citadel going about their business.
But what about Poppy? Where was she? Was she hurt?
Mal’s jaw tightened and suddenly her foot slid off its foothold. She gripped hard, and waited a second until she found her balance. She shifted her weight and kept climbing.
But a moment later, her fingers slipped off a handhold.
Oh, shit.
Mal slid down the wall, and then hit the ground on her ass—hard.
Her bones rattled. Ow.
A few people on the open terrace stopped to look at her, faces puzzled.