Nola scoured her mental files for any information she might have read about the ability, but her thoughts were as jumbled as a barrel of plastic monkeys. A symptom of withdrawal. The other symptoms returned with a vengeance, her heart racing, sweat beading on her skin. Aches and pains reignited, and she struggled to catch her breath.

Somehow, Bane had staved off her withdrawal. Now that they were apart...

Should she try to return to him, despite his temper tantrum?

No need to think about it. Yes, she should. Ticktock. She was no closer to saving Vale, but she was close to getting an agreement from him. But, no matter how hard she concentrated, she remained in place, frustrated and disappointed.

One fact cleared up, though. Bane had forever altered the course of her life. Only time would tell if those changes were for the best...or the worst.

CHAPTER SIX

When his ex is the queen of mean!

“NOLA!” BANE ROARED. He jolted upright, frigid limestone-scented air nipping at his exposed skin.

He reached out to Nola with his mind, wanting her close, but some kind of block prevented a connection. Why?

Panting, drenched in sweat, he took stock of his body. His clothes—gone. His shoulder—unhealed. His foot—regrown. Finally, something favorable had happened to him. But how had it happened so quickly?

His internal clock said one night had passed since he’d escaped the ice prison. A foot usually required two days to regenerate—if a queen gave an order. When a princess gave it, you had to tack on another couple of days. So what had sped up the process for Nola?

Breath misted in front of his face as he scouted his surroundings. A rocky cave. Not his lair. This cave contained no weapons or treasures. Here, glistening crystals spilled from the ceiling. Water drip-drip-dripped from rocky walls, splashing onto a pile of dead mortals. Old kills. Their blood had congealed and darkened.

The beast must have snagged the foursome from a nearby village and holed up...where? He racked his brain for an answer. Every thought but one sank to the bottom of mental quicksand as quickly as it formed. Did anyone wait nearby, hoping to ambush him?

He closed his eyes and listened intently. No voices, no footsteps, just a bluster of wind. He breathed deep and sorted through the different aromas. Limestone, decomposition and dirt. Honeysuckle and jasmine.

His body jerked, a bolt of lust slamming into him. Honeysuckle. How long had Nola been gone? Where was she? Want her back!