Unease prickled the back of her neck, her stomach performing a series of flips. “He could be watching and listening right now.”

“I have visited your house every few hours since our separation and already searched the rooms,” he said. “There’s no evidence of tampering.”

Okay. All right.

“Now,” he said, his tone hardening. He drew in a deep breath, held it, then exhaled slowly. “I’ve been tolerant of your secrets. Lenient, even. But I must take measures to protect myself, and my realm. I’m sorry, Nola, but men who trust others are the first to die.”

Foreboding joined the unease, sweeping through her. “What are you getting at?”

He unsheathed one of his daggers. “I need the truth about your connection to Bane, and there’s only one way to get it. I’m sorry,” he repeated, “but this will hurt.”

MUST GET TO NOLA.

Nearing frantic desperation, Bane secured his goggles around his neck, strapped Valor’s sword to his back and anchored a piece of Union’s belt around each of his biceps. The beast had sheared the link in half, turning one weapon into two. To his shock, both worked! Strength hummed inside his bones and flowed into his muscles. More strength than he’d ever wielded.

Must get to Nola. Must protect her.

Must not hurt her.

The beast protested, only to go quiet, as if uncertain about the best way to proceed. That was a first.

The lair had been destroyed. The sunny island had been the last place anyone should have thought to look for him. So how had Union learned his location?

All Bane knew for sure? If one combatant had found him, others would, too. And soon. But he had nowhere else to go. Where was Nola? How terribly had he harmed her? How much did she hate him?

When Bane had transformed, something shocking had happened. He’d remained aware as the beast overtook him. Another first. Maybe because he’d fought harder than ever before, determined to save his princess.

He’d learned the shoulder wound bothered the beast, too, a vulnerability they could ill afford.

A more shocking development? Nola’s unwavering bravery.

She’d faced the beast, unflinching. And, though she’d been racked by pain, she’d issued no orders. Instead, she’d petted the fiend’s snout and offered friendship.

The beast—now named Drogo, apparently—hadn’t made up his mind about her. He was confused, and annoyed about it.

Bane had severely underestimated this precious female, with her kind heart and plucky determination. Her quiet strength blew his mind. She had something he envied: an ability to remain calm while the world crumbled around her—or when a dragon contemplated the many ways to end her life.