Knox pushed Nola into the corner, and propped a big block of ice in front of them to fashion a barrier. Knox then used his supernatural ability to control shadows, causing sheets of darkness to rise from the ground like ghosts, and hide both females. He protected the females? Shocking.

Bane roared. He needed to see Nola, needed to assure himself she remained unharmed.

He picked up speed, barreling into anyone foolish enough to get in his way. Bodies fell. Just as he reached Nola’s corner, breathing in her wonderful scent, the combatant Orion crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. As they rolled, Orion swung a pair of motorized axes.

Bane latched on to the male’s wrist and jerked, the ax slicing through his elbow, the lower half of the arm detaching. With his free hand, Bane ripped out his trachea, silencing a scream of anguish. His go-to move.

Orion slumped over, warm blood spurting from the new hole in his neck.

The desire to kill proved strong, but Bane resisted temptation. In a situation like this, many warriors could, and would, die. If the All War ended tonight, before he’d had a chance to prepare Nola...

No! He would stick to the plan, and keep the war going for another three weeks.

He stood, just as Emberelle lunged at him. Using Orion’s severed arm as a club, he sent her stumbling back, then rushed to Nola’s corner...

Damn it! The ice and shadows remained undisturbed, but she was long gone, her scent faded. No sign of Vale, either. Where had they—

There! Thorn, the combatant who wielded a glowing whip, clasped Nola’s ankle and dragged her toward the exit, unaware another warrior approached, gliding through the air thanks to a pair of winged boots—Ranger—a sword raised and ready, aimed at Nola’s vulnerable throat.

“No!” Bane blazed across the cavern. Come on, come on. Panic hammered at him, his blood flash-freezing. He wasn’t going to reach her in time.

Zion caught Ranger’s sword midair, the blade shattering, no match for his metal glove, saving Nola’s life. A new tide of relief flooded Bane, only to evaporate when Zion knocked out Ranger, gathered her close and bolted.

She fought him, a veritable wildcat, but she didn’t win her freedom until Ronan challenged Zion, claiming his full attention.

But Nola didn’t bolt, as Bane expected. She stood in place and spun, her eyes wide, her cheeks pale, shouting, “Vale?”

Keeping her within his sight line, he targeted any combatant foolish enough to approach her, snapping necks and ripping out spines. Did she notice? No. Annoyance scraped his chest raw. He—