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Foreboding prickled the back of her neck. Can’t let her leave with him. Not this time.

Heart thudding, Fox jumped up and raced to the closet. At some point, Bjorn must have returned to the cabin and changed her. No longer did she wear her singed, smoke-scented clothing. A pink tank graced her up top, and a pair of boxers covered her intimate area below. She donned a pair of boots and spun, searching for a weapon, any weapon. There! The daggers Bjorn left on the nightstand. She swiped them up and hurried to the front door—closed.

Bjorn’s voice sounded at last. Unlike Alana, he maintained a moderate tone.

“I will not be going with you, Alana. I will not be supplying you with power at the expense of my life. I will not act like your husband—I am not. You forced a bond and now, I want no part of it. I am disgusted by you. You repulse me in every way. No one is uglier on the inside. To be honest, I would rather die than touch you. I am willing to die to end our bond.”

Bjorn, dead… No, no, no! They weren’t on the best of terms right now, but Fox didn’t want him dead. She wanted…she wanted…

Argh! She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. Before he’d tenderly washed her body, painstakingly trimmed her hair, and pledged to fight for her forgiveness, she’d been ready to cut him from her life. Now the thought of losing him sent her into a panic.

What if they could have a fulfilling life together?

Distrust whispered, You cannot.

Fox fisted the sheets. For too long, she’d either listened to the fiend or fought to ignore him. Today, she fought back. You speak your lies to crack the foundation of truth I stand upon, ensuring I will crumble. Bjorn speaks truth, always. If he thinks we can make this work, I choose to trust him.

Only setting yourself up for pain and failure…

No. I’m setting myself up for love and joy. Alana was going to get the stinky boot. And one day, Distrust would, too. She’d thought to use the phantoms to cleanse Bjorn of the queen’s bond. What if she used them to cleanse her of Distrust? Or any of the Lords of the Underworld who were interested?

The demon panicked, clawing at her mind.

She grinned. If she bonded to someone else, she would survive, avoiding the Gatekeeper death as she’d hoped for so long.

Will Bjorn wish to bond with me?

“It’s the girl,” Alana hissed, breaking into Fox’s thoughts. “You’re doing this for her.”

“You will stay away from her!” He hadn’t moderated his voice this time. No, he’d let his fury ring loud and clear.

Fox nearly melted to the rug as feminine power flooded her. Oh, yes. This man loved her and craved a future with her. He would bond with her. And I will be his knight in shining armor!

How to proceed? With caution! Not at my healthiest. Think! Should she bust out there and just start whaling on Alana? Then what? Usually, Fox followed a target for days, weeks, before ever making a move; the more she knew about their personalities, habits, likes and dislikes, the better the likelihood of her success. But, at the end of the day, she always had to make do with what she had. So. What did she know about Alana? In other words, what did she have to work with this time around?

Alana was selfish, greedy, and probably a sociopath. She survived off of other people’s life-forces. She was the Queen of Shadows—

That! That was the key. The answer slapped Fox silly. Shadows equaled darkness. What if Fox imprisoned Alana in a realm without darkness? If the female weakened in sunlight, Bjorn would weaken, too. But. He would have time to go to Phantasia without Alana’s interference.

Do not do this, the demon pleaded. You’re too weak to win. Alana will kill you, and then Bjorn.

Hardly. But then, he’d say anything to stop her. Go exorcise yourself.

As calmly and quietly as possible, Fox opened the front door and leaned into the open frame—a floorboard squeaked, ruining her efforts. Both Bjorn and Alana swung around to face her.

She raised her chin. Not wanting to be distracted, she purposely avoided Bjorn’s gaze as she told him, “I’m sorry, baby, but this is going to hurt you.” Then she faced the glaring, scowling Alana and smiled coldly. “Hello and goodbye. It hasn’t been nice knowing you.” That said, she tossed one of the daggers. Aim: Alana’s heart.

Chapter Twenty

Fox’s dagger whooshed through the air. Time ticked by in slow-motion as Bjorn watched, astounded by the turn of events. The blade sank into Alana’s heart, dead center. Thanks to their bond, pain exploded through his chest. He saw stars.

Alana screamed and stumbled back. Fox didn’t miss a beat. She opened a portal behind the woman. Unfortunately, Alana stopped just before she passed through it…until Fox dove at her, the two flinging out of Hell and into a sunny flatland. They rolled across the ground, throwing punches and elbows. As soon as they stopped, Fox yanked the blade from Alana’s body. Black blood spurted from the wound, quickly soaking the queen’s torso.

Bright rays of sunshine blistered Alana’s skin. And Bjorn’s. Weakness poured through him; the same weakness that poured through Alana, though his was much, much worse. She used their bond to steal more of his strength.

While he still had the necessary juice, he shouted telepathically for his friends. Thane! Xerxes! I need you. They’d come. He knew it.

Even as his knees threatened to buckle, he tripped to the portal. The two women lumbered to their feet, the fight continuing without pause. More punches and kicks. Daggers and claws slashed. Neither opponent held back, grunts and groans ringing out.

Alana didn’t have a tenth of Fox’s combat skill. Having always relied on her ability to possess and drain, she’d refused to learn how to war. So, she received more blows than she landed, and Bjorn felt every single one. He didn’t care. He would happily suffer as long as it led to Alana’s defeat. The problem was, Fox noticed his poor condition and began to hesitate before delivering any shots.

Bjorn rejoiced. I still have a chance with her!

Unfortunately, Alana noticed the reason for Fox’s hesitation, too, and grated, “The more you hurt me, the more you hurt Bjorn. Right now, he feels as though a thousand little soldiers are marching through his veins, slashing everything. Panic must be enveloping his mind in an icy fog…”

Fox grated back, “I’m certain he’ll forgive me when I present him with your severed head.”

“You fool!” Alana threw a punch and missed. “If I die, he dies.”

“Who said I’m going to kill you today?” Going low, Fox swiped out her arm, as if she intended to knock the queen’s legs together. Instead, she slicked a dagger across Alana’s ankles, nicking the tibial artery. “Maybe I have something else in mind…”

Dizziness nearly toppled him as he bent to withdraw the dagger from the sheath strapped to his calf. Deep breath in. Hold, hold. Slowly exhale. Good, that was good. The dizziness faded just enough to steady his aim. He tossed the dagger, and the blade sank into Alana’s throat.

Fox screamed a denial as Alana gasped and stumbled back. Now struggling to fill his lungs, Bjorn collapsed. He wheezed, his body wracked by searing agony. Can’t pass out. Must stay awake! If Fox needed him…

Unleashing a war cry, Fox attacked Alana with more vigor, aggressive as hell and all the sexier for it. Moving quickly. Slashing those daggers. Slice, slice, slice. Blood trickled from the new cuts and gashes as they appeared on his shoulders, abdomen and thighs. The air-less Alana couldn’t keep up and tripped over a rock. Unable to halt her momentum, she fell.

Fox dove on top of her. In a one, two motion, she planted a dagger in both of the queen’s shoulders, pinning her down. As the bitch bowed her back and screamed, Fox snarled, “I’m going to trap you in this realm of perpetual sunshine until your forced bond with Bjorn is negated.”

No. Absolutely not. Alana could not be allowed to live another minute, much less the years he would be forced to spend on Phantasia. Too much risk. If she escaped and summoned her army of Shadow warriors, Fox would be in danger the rest of her

life—however long it lasted.

Where were her Shadow warriors now? Why weren’t they with her, protecting her? For that matter, where had they been during Bjorn’s final visit to her lair?

“Let me go!” Alana shouted. “Let me go!”

Fox stood beside her thrashing body. He used the final drop of his strength to crawl to the females. As soon as she saw him up close, Fox released a ragged sound he’d only ever heard from wounded animals.

“Oh, Bjorn. I’m so sorry.” Guilt laced her voice, and he hated that.

“You are not to feel shame, vixen. This is not your fault.”

“I… I love you. I did my best to avoid harming you.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Now you’re bruised, broken and bleeding.”

Oh, yes. She would give him another chance. One he would not take for granted. She loved him. Loved. Him. The knowledge redoubled his certainty—he was doing the right thing. Time and time again, he’d hurt her, but now…now he would help her the only way he knew how. She deserved a happily ever after, and he would do everything in his power to ensure she got it.

“I love you, too, vixen. Always and forever.”

Alana went still, though she continued heaving panting breaths. She looked between Bjorn and Fox, rage mottling her cheeks. “Love?” she sneered.

He maneuvered to his haunches, raised his arms, a sword of fire appearing in his hand.


Tags: Gena Showalter Lords of the Underworld Fantasy