BANE RETURNED TO humanoid form and spit out a mouthful of blood. Drogo snarled in the back of his mind the entire time. But...he and the beast seemed to be...one. One being. One conscious mind, with one objective—Nola’s protection through Micah’s obliteration.

With a cloud of smoke collecting overhead, protecting his skin from the too-harsh sun, Bane hacked the male’s body into small pieces. “May your screams of pain echo into eternity.”

He opened a portal above those shark-infested waters—a location he’d flown over before and after his imprisonment—and tossed the pieces inside. His boots received the same treatment.

A feeding frenzy erupted, water splashing, the scent of salt heavy in the air.

He ransacked his backpack, dressed in clean clothes and considered sticking around to ambush any combatants foolish enough to chase him.

More time away from Nola? Not happening.

When his little beauty had faced off with Micah, Bane had nearly dropped to his knees to worship at her feet. Warrior woman? Better. Warrior princess. Stronger than he’d ever realized. Braver, too, with courage to spare. Witty, fun and brilliant. Formidable. Loyal. Honest.

And right.

Once she’d told a very harsh truth. Only a hypocrite would admire strength in himself, but disdain those who were stronger...and only a hypocrite would despise her for having authority over him while making use of that authority anytime he required help.

When he considered how terribly he’d treated her, how he’d once thought her no better than Aveline... Bane dropped to his knees and threw back his head, roaring to the skies until his lungs emptied and his voice broke.

He’d been a fool, blinded by his prejudices. Her abilities, the very abilities he’d hated her for wielding, would help keep her alive in the endless years ahead. He could have her—he could keep her, death unable to easily steal her away.

Bane could have everything he’d ever wanted. A loving woman at his side. A family to love and cherish. Forever.

Dazed, he leaned back. A family. With Nola. Want that so much.

What did she want?

Frantic with need, Bane jumped to his feet. He used their link to peer through her eyes. He saw...a cloud of steam?

Hard as steel, he opened a portal and stepped into a spacious bathroom, with chrome fixtures and black-and-white tiles, Nola’s dirty clothes piled on the floor. Inside the shower stall, water poured from an overhead spout, mist fogging up the glass door. The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine threatened to fray what remained of his control.

“How are you feeling, dove?”

“Bane?” She smoothed a hand over the door, wiping away a layer of mist. Relief pulsated from her. “I wasn’t as sick this time. I’m getting better.”