Her warrior. Hers, and hers alone. Bane, who killed with such ease. Who aroused her and frightened her for reasons she didn’t yet understand. Who was currently looking at her as if he wanted to strip her naked and eat her for dinner...or bag and tag her, then hang her on the wall as a trophy. At last she comprehended his hot and cold treatment.

Too often lupus, fibro or opioids had acted as her master, forcing her to stay in bed when she’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else.

“Once, you all but begged me to order you around. Tell me to heal quickly and regrow my foot. Dance monkey dance,” she mocked. “Remember? I obeyed you, and you obeyed me, and look at the magnificent result.” Deep breath in, out. “I didn’t ask to be your queen, Bane. So why blame me for our situation?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve served many royals. One day, you will change into the worst version of yourself. You will be cold. Determined. Deadly. You will exert your sovereignty over me, forcing me to do reprehensible deeds. Queens always do.”

The hatred in his tone clanged like a death knell. He really hated Adwaewethian royals. But that wasn’t the reason she withered inside. What he described...she’d already met the worst version of herself. Dark Nola.

Realization: I’m not delusional... I’m transitioning.

Fight or flight took over, fear welling and denial surging. This couldn’t be happening.

No, she couldn’t let it happen. She would stay and fight. Dark Nola wouldn’t win. “Did you, perhaps, date a princess who became queen?” Beneath the hatred, she thought she’d heard torment. Why agonize about what he was saying unless he’d been in love?

“I did,” he offered tightly.

“And she changed?” Nola persisted.

His gaze lowered, snagged on her lips and warmed. “She did.”

Heart speeding up, she said, “As long as you leave Vale alone, I have no intention of harming you, or ordering you around. Besides, I’m nothing like your other queen.”

He laughed without a shred of amusement, raising her hackles. “You think you’re stronger than Aveline, that you can do what she did not and remain kind, caring? Sorry to be the one to hit you with truth, Nola, but all royals change. You will, too. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

Tired of being called weak, she lifted her chin. “Challenge accepted.”

He peered at her for a long while, silent, and she peered right back. A mistake. Torchlight loved him, painting his rough, masculine features with raw, sensual strokes. His flaxen mane glowed like a halo.

“Not a challenge. A fact.”