Xelan had holed himself in an office for the day. He was writing, alphabetizing supplies, updating the inventory—absolutely anything over the anxiety needling his brain.

This could not be happening.

Was the entire base pacing around, twiddling their thumbs, waiting for Rayne?

Xelan slammed his fountain pen on his journal and groaned.

That’s it.

When Rayne surfaced from the girls’ room, he was declaring this not-happening. It was a brilliant plan, but Nox was too unpredictable to endanger her—

A knock at the door interrupted Xelan’s internal tirade. Nerves forced him on his feet. “It’s unlocked.”

Tameka appeared in the doorway, first.

Before she could say a word, he said, “I love your hair,” and gave her an appreciative smile.

Tameka blushed and beamed for Xelan. He loved that she blushed. At the faint trace of bergamot, he grinned.

She said, “Thank you, but this isn’t about me.” Then she gave him a wink which clearly said, ‘It can be about me later.’

Tameka gave a tiny clearing of her throat and announced, “This isn’t just art. This is a masterpiece.” She swung the door wide. The sudden tight set of her lips let Xelan know she wasn’t happy about this business, either, and he was ready to put his foot down when Rayne glided through the door.

Xelan fell back in the chair. The little girl he’d saved from a hit and run had grown up to be a knockout.

His little girl.

Rayne’s dark hair was pinned in two cute buns on top of her head, matching Tameka. She smiled at him with black lips meant to look aggressive but which only emphasized the delicate features of her made-up face. He stifled a groan of frustration at the little black skater dress.

Rayne was all grown up, and Xelan wanted to murder her date.

He forced a gentle smile, and she twirled on four-inch strappy stilettos. The dress flared, exposing black denim short-shorts, but the back of her dress had grabbed his attention.

Or lack thereof.

Rayne had left Elden’s Verse on display across her entire back, accented by straps. She’d even dressed up her sling for a less obtrusive, elegant design meant to blend in with the dress. Her eyelids blinked silver at him. Her pale skin—with far too much of it showing for his paternal instincts—glowed like alabaster against all the black.

Nox would eat her alive.

Xelan tried twice to get the words out, “You look beautiful.” Before she could beam at him, he added, “But you can’t make me do this. It feels like I’m giving you away, and—”

Rayne’s entire face went serious. “If I were ever to get married, you’re the man I’d ask.”

Tameka gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth.

Xelan’s heart swelled and constricted all at once. While the sentiment choked him with emotion, this was not right. He opened his mouth to tell her so when Colton appeared in the doorway. “Wingmaster, everything is good to go when you are.” He caught sight of Rayne and warmth shone in his eyes. “General Callahan, if I may say?”

“You may.”

“You are quite the lady.”

Rayne crossed the room and gave him a kiss on the cheek. There was no lipstick print, but the man sure did blush.

Elden give Xelan the strength to get through this crucible and preserve Rayne in the process. Xelan announced, “If we’re doing this, we need to go now before I lose my nerve.”

“I didn’t know such a thing was possible,” Tameka teased.

Xelan pointed his index finger in her face. “I’ll deal with you later.”

He expected a sparkle of humor, but an impending dread clouded Tameka’s warm features. She said, “Don’t think you’re facing him without kissing me.” She hopped up to clutch his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss so hot it forged his resolve. The tremble of her lips was the only thing to dampen it.

When they came up for air, Xelan pressed his forehead to hers. “Tameka,” he whispered her name in the way she loved. She rewarded him with the scent of bergamot and a dazzling smile.

Later.

Xelan would make up for this later.

He appreciated Colton and Rayne discretely disappearing for their privacy. As he turned to walk away, a sharp smack on his ass surprised him. He quirked an eyebrow when he turned back to Tameka.

A sexy, bashful grin lit up her freckles. “We’re topping eighteen hours when you get back.”

“Count on it,” Xelan purred. There was nothing more he’d rather do than discover new peaks with Tameka. And nothing less he’d rather do than this current mission.

At least twelve hours in the Wrong Side of Eternity.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Xelan rounded the last corner to the hangar and halted. The entire base had come to see them off. Thirty or so people hung around the jet plane, ready to depart.

Rayne scurried to each of them and hugged them or tapped them on the shoulder. His little General returned respect to her soldiers. Pride and love swelled in his chest.

There was no losing with this army.

Sagan appeared in the doorway behind Xelan. She muttered, “It’s like a funeral.”

He glanced at Rayne’s second-in-command. “She’s not dying on my watch.”

Before Xelan added any more reassurances, Sagan turned to him with violet eyes hardened into ice. “She’d better not.” The ice went glassy, and a fine tremor traveled up her body, starting at her feet. Her voice shook, “You bring her back to me, Xelan. Alive.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder and vowed, “On Elden’s wings, we shall return unharmed.”

It was good the Shadow looked after each other. The trauma they’d suffered had severely damaged their ability to cope with separation and loss. Xelan hoped winning the war provided them enough space to heal. In reality, however, this move presented so many risks and the greatest of all to Rayne. Their concerns were not unfounded.

Sagan nodded as if satisfied with his promise.

Rayne circled back to them.

Xelan gave them some space and went over the pre-flight checklist with Colton and Six. When his flight control officer glanced beyond him, Xelan discretely checked out the scene.

Sagan was storming back through the door, obviously distraught, leaving Rayne reaching after her.

Xelan hated seeing the lost look on her face, but rescuing her from relationship problems landed outside of his job description. She absorbed it, gave herself a moment to remove traces of it from her face, and marched in their direction. His little girl was growing up.

Rayne asked in a semi-casual tone, “We’re going in a jet?”

Xelan played along for her sake. Let her save face. He said, “Well, I do own an airline. What did you think? I’d fly you there on my back?”

A sparkle glinted in Rayne’s kohl-lined sapphire eyes. “Well, yeah.”

“And listen to you complain the entire way that I’d intentionally ruined your hair and makeup?” Xelan nudged her playfully with his elbow, winning him a smile.

As the crew waited in the hangar, they boarded the plane. Rayne stepped aside, appreciating the interior which matched the train. Xelan passed her and headed for the black cockpit.

Rayne asked, “You’re flying it?” Then she added excitedly, “Can you teach me?!”

Xelan belted out a hearty laugh. “Believe me, it’ll be much easier for you to learn than it was for me.” He sat in the white leather pilot’s chair of the prepped plane, crossing one ankle over the other knee. Trusting Colton to manage the pre-flight checklist, Xelan performed a last round of searching for potential foreign object damage hazards.

Rayne gasped. “Superman struggled to learn a skill?” She batted lashes so heavily coated in mascara it impressed Xelan she could open them. “I have to know more.” Plopping down in the identical co-pilot chair, she perused the instrument panel.

Grinning, he imagined a entire three hours of her asking, “What’s this do?” And Xelan found the entire premise endearing rather than annoying. He said, “Wing-ed Icari don’t need planes; however, the idea of flying across half the world for over eighteen hours dissuades us from long-term travel. You wonderful humans invented jet engines. Now, we can make it to Egypt with no traffic or regulations in three hours.”

“And that’s where the conduit to Cinder is.”

“Correct. But for a being such as myself, accustomed to flying on my own wings, gliding for days, this tin can with a super-powered engine challenged my understanding of the air. It took me a year to get my pilot’s license. I learned how to assemble a Tritan progenitor in three months.” Rayne’s mouth fell open as he continued, “I mean… I didn’t realize at the time that’s what I was doing…”

“Is that how the Progeny—I mean, we—were made?”

“I wanted to see if I could combine our species in the hope Nox would abandon the cattle idea,” Xelan admitted as he secured the loose objects in the cockpit.

Rayne’s face fell.

It was time to change the subject. Xelan handed her a clipboard. She accepted it without hesitation, and he said, “You wanna learn how to fly? Check the instruments on that list while I get with flight control.” He slipped his headset on. “Flight control this is Wingmaster, come in.”

Six’s voice came through the headset as Xelan confirmed they were ready for pushback. Rayne bit into her black-painted bottom lip as she checked off the items Colton had already verified. The pushback tractor got to work, and she beamed up at him. “I love flying Icarean airlines, but this is my first time on a plane. I’m excited.”

Xelan grinned at her. “You’re never scared of anything.”

Rayne spoke to the clipboard. “You’re flying. Why would I be scared?”

As warmth filled his chest, Xelan taxied the plane onto the airstrip. Six confirmed clearance for takeoff, and Rayne perked up beside him, reaching for the co-pilot control wheel.

Xelan shook his head. “A single checklist doesn’t make you a pilot.” He gripped the main control wheel and the throttle lever and took off with a side glance at her pout.

“One day,” he promised.

Momentarily appeased, Rayne focused on the windshield where daylight strained through Nox’s Sphere to reach them. Three hours of flight with a six-hour time difference.

As the plane lifted from the runway, Xelan heard Rayne’s breath hitch. He smiled as he communicated with Six and navigated a little turbulence.

With the landing gear ascended and the plane almost to its autopilot altitude, Xelan peered over at Rayne. She was staring into the clouds, lost in darker thoughts than he’d expected.

Xelan frowned. Nox was stealing Rayne away more with every minute closer to the confrontation.

Xelan switched on autopilot, took off his headset, and hopped up. “Let’s have some lunch.”

Rayne stared at him, aghast. “Don’t you have to fly this thing?!”

He chuckled, happy with her reaction. “It flies itself. It’s not like there’s anything up here to hit. C’mon.” He extended his arm for her, and she hopped up and took it.

They chatted over lunch. Rayne played with her food without eating much. Xelan tried his best to distract her thoughts. And his. With occasional check-ins with flight control, they explored the interior of the plane, played card games, and talked.

At the two and half-hour mark, they climbed back into the cockpit.

Rayne continued the conversation, “But what about Eminem?”

“Small, little round candies right? Chocolate in the center?”

She gaped at him with wide eyes, speechless.

Xelan threw his head back and laughed into the headset. “If Marshall Mathers survived, I’m sure he ended up in one of the human shelters, contributing like everyone else.”

Rayne shoved Xelan as he communicated to Six they were ready to land.

When they descended over the desert, Rayne observed, “There’s nothing out here. I expected another Iona.” She gave him a curious glance.

“You’d be right. Iona-0 is outside of the conduit zone, but I evacuated it with news of the invasion. I’m positive it’s under surveillance.”

As a scant landing strip materialized in the sand, Rayne asked, “So where are we?”

“About an hour away from Nox’s Fortress at a hidden location.”

Xelan landed the jet. He checked his backpack again for the items essential to their mission and the one for his own record keeping before they disembarked.

Rayne remained silent in her curiosity. As did Xelan in his desire to surprise her. She was the first person he’d let visit this location. Ever. Tameka would be next.

Together they tossed a desert camouflage tarp over the exposed jet. She scanned the horizon, obviously trying to discern the secret.

In his palm, Xelan laid out a flat, blue glowing disc he’d retrieved from his backpack.

Rayne stared at it and then up at him.

He trusted her. “It needs your blood to encode a new imprint. Do you give it freely?”

“I do.” No hesitation. She trusted him.

Xelan said, “This disk will let you into my home.”

Rayne’s brows shot up.

He continued, “Lay your hand on it, and it will open to you. Always.”

Rayne did, and the desert groaned.