Nola checked out their new digs—a cave with limestone walls. A bedrock had collapsed, forming a gorgeous cenote, the water so clear she could see fish swimming below the surface. Crystals twinkled from the ceiling, almost as dazzling as stars, and though the air held a faint musty scent, there was no hint of rot or decay.

“Careful,” Knox warned. “The tunnels are vast. I haven’t been down here since before our imprisonment, so I have no idea what’s happened here. Above the cave is a temple. Around the temple is a jungle. There are no physical exits anywhere down here. You must rift in and out.”

“Thank you,” Nola said. “We appreciate this.” She nudged Bane, then Zion. “Right?”

“Thank you,” Zion and Bane grumbled in unison. Nola suspected that, as gung ho as they were to work with Knox, they didn’t like owing the man a favor.

Knox went rigid, his dread palpable as he glanced at his ring.

“What’s wrong?” Vale asked, paling. “Ansel is requesting a meeting?”

Ansel?

“Can you ignore him?” her sister asked.

Must be a king.

Knox brought Vale’s hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “We must return home. Now.”

Though worry pulsed from Vale, she put on a brave face and winked at Nola. And, though she had no idea what was going on, Nola’s heart was breaking. She put on a brave face as well, and winked back. Then Knox dragged her sister into another antechamber to rift home in private, leaving Nola alone with her guys. And her nerves.

One step closer to the Blood Rite...

CHAPTER THIRTY

Always wear the crown!

“THE TIME HAS COME,” Bane announced. He’d been in and out of their underground base camp, moving everything he’d gathered pre-meeting to their new digs. By “everything” she meant unconscious soldiers. He’d bound the men with rope and created a circle of bodies around Nola. Finished, he peered at Zion. “You will keep guard. Let no one interfere.”

“You can count on me.” Zion moved to an alcove, the one with the best view of the cavern, and popped the bones in his neck, ready for anything.

Nerves got the better of Nola. Soon the Blood Rite would start, and she would become queen, experiencing her full power. If she survived. I will, I will, I will. But uncertainty threatened to drive her insane. What if—

Enough! Blank your mind.

“You, turn around,” Bane instructed Zion. “No matter what you hear, do not look back.”

Crap. That sounded bad. “What do I need to do?” she squeaked. About to be a queen. Act like one. Be, you know, dignified or something.

Oh! She could think of one way to help her feel queenly. “Hold up.”

“Nola—”