As the word left on a breathy whisper, Rayne knew the confession went too far. Enraptured in a perfect moment with Nox, smelling the mint from his breath and cloves from his skin, she’d never felt more sure of a word.
But Rayne was wrong.
She knew it by the sudden stiffness of Nox’s posture. His muscles, carved from marble, had made him into a statue. Remote. So when Nox laced his fingers through hers, Rayne was pleasantly surprised.
When he used this connection to slam her up against a bookshelf, disappointment shattered her heart. By harboring the childish notion that Nox could ever love her, Rayne remained, as always, his victim.
When her back connected, books tumbled from their purchase. The air rushed out of her lungs, and she gasped to replace it.
His lips found hers then, stealing Rayne’s breath away. The kiss burned, and she demanded more. She moaned into his lips as he pressed his entire body against her, firm into the shelves digging into her back.
This was like all of Rayne’s dreams. Pain and pleasure.
Nox.
Right as breathless giddiness set in, he pulled away for air.
Dazed, Rayne let her guard down, and that’s when he forced something in her mouth. Before she could react, Nox shoved his enormous hand over her lips—pinky to her nose, thumb to her chin, elbow flush to the wall.
The spherical object, whatever it was, popped into the back of Rayne’s throat, requiring a force of nature not to swallow it.
In her face, Nox sneered, “Think you could fool me, again, Celindria? You’ve underestimated me for the last time.”
Pain thickened the blood in Rayne’s heart. She was not her ancestor! Desperate tears fell from her eyes as she tried using them to convince Nox of her sincerity. She struggled, lifting the hand he held high above her only an inch before he crushed it back against the shelf.
Then came another waterfall of books.
With his face a centimeter from hers, Nox snarled, “Don’t play coy. I know from our dreams you like to swallow.”
Despair, cold and ugly, filled Rayne. He could never love her because he couldn’t look past his own machinations to see her. Where the moonlight shone a bright white light on every corner of the room, Nox’s gray skin absorbed it into a fathomless void, stealing the light away.
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Her light into his darkness.
Nox said, “Here are my terms. You swallow this nacre, and I’ll drop the Filicide Order and leave your friends alone. You’ll come back with me to Cinder, and it’ll make everything right.”
As her lashes fluttered and her vision faded, Rayne’s body demanded the sacrifice for air. But one thought kept rolling through her head. Who died for Nox to have this nacre?
With one option left open to her, Rayne fell bonelessly to the floor.
Without her to lean against, Nox smacked his head into the sturdy wooden shelves, releasing her hand.
Gritting her teeth, Rayne retrieved the emergency knife from her sling, praying it triggered the signal. Desperate and enraged, she shoved the blade up between his legs.
Nox howled, and a shower of blood doused Rayne in his cobalt DNA.
Since the Invasion Day Battle, the Shadow had learned that higher evolved Icari healed any normal knife wound within minutes. But Kyle didn’t specialize in normal knives.
He specialized in gold.
Rayne mouthed a silent, “Thanks, Kyle.”
Nox fell over, writhing in pain with that solid gold blade buried into his pelvis.
On shaky ground, Rayne stood and spat the nacre out of her mouth onto him. Distraught, she cried, “You’ve wasted your last chance!” Even though his imposing body writhed on the floor, she feared his wrath once he recovered.
Somewhere in the room, a communication device blared, “Emergency! The Traitor Prince was a projection. I repeat, the Traitor Prince was a projection. We lost his location.”
The ceiling shattered as Xelan crashed the party. He’d gotten the signal.
Rayne rushed to him, ready to get the fuck out. Her heart stayed behind on the floor.
Xelan glanced at Nox before taking in the mess that was Rayne. He cupped her chin in his hand and turned her head left, then right.
What did he see? The smeared black lipstick from the kiss? The bruises Nox’s fingers had left on her face?
Whatever it was, it transformed Xelan’s eyes and left him snarling.
Superman descended on his brother.
Pure.
Fury.
After one angry stride, Xelan straddled Nox on the floor. Her best friend wrapped his long, slender fingers around his brother’s throat and strangled him in an act of revenge a long time coming. But the King had caught a second wind at the sight of his brother’s enraged face. The two were so similar, it brought a fresh bout of tears to Rayne’s eyes.
Nox went upright with no movement in between. Both brothers locked hands around the other’s throat. A kinetic pressure built in the room, stood Rayne’s hair on end, and made her long for an ear pop.
As if summoned from on high, an actual bolt of lightning, from a cloudless sky, struck Nox and Xelan. Their nacres deflected it in a spectacular spider web of energy around them. Bright white sparks bounced throughout the room. This was a different caliber of fighting.
Rayne screamed and took cover, shielding her head.
By then, Xelan had slammed Nox into the bookshelf over her, and they fought with her tangled at their feet while she tried not to look directly at them.
A pounding at the doors concerned Rayne. While the two exchanged blows, Nox was biding his time for his guards to pile up outside.
Time to go.
Rayne glanced up and then cried out as an entire shelf of books fell on her.
No more fucking around.
Rayne reached up and grabbed the hilt of the knife, twisting it deeper into Nox’s groin. With a burst of strength and a lot of scorn, she shoved the entire dagger—hilt and all—inside her lover.
So. Much. Blood.
Nox crumpled onto the ruined carpet.
Xelan immediately surged for Nox, but she clutched Xelan’s arm as the doors folded open. She shouted, “We have to go!”
He spared one last look at his brother before Xelan swept Rayne into his arms and took to the night sky.