Heck, maybe she was. His scent kept screwing with her concentration. And dang it, she kept getting lost in his amber eyes and the frame of long, black lashes. Her pulse points fluttered, the urge to touch him almost overwhelming.

Gah! She’d begun to straighten out her legs—her shield—unbidden. Begun to reach out... When she realized what she was doing, she tried to stop herself. Too late. She traced her fingertips along the golden stubble on his jaw. A white-hot bolt of electricity shot through her, pricking her nerve endings. For a moment, the princess and her warrior didn’t move, or even breathe. Then he clasped her wrist in a bruising grip.

She expected him to push her away, if only to prove his strength. She wished he would push her away.

Breathing more heavily, he pressed her open palm against his cheek and leaned into her touch. “Anytime a princess lives to adulthood, a warrior’s link to a queen is gradually weakened. The moment I sensed you, Aveline lost her vise-grip on me, allowing me to speak inside your head, and you inside mine. After your Blood Rite, I can bond to you, officially, severing all ties to Aveline.”

Reeling. “Why would you pick me over her? She harmed your loved one, yes, but you don’t even know me.” I’m not sure I know myself anymore. “There’s a phrase Earthlings—Terrans...whatever!—use. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.”

“I know you are not a devil. Yet.” He ran his tongue over his straight white teeth and released her hand. “Why did you choose Zion over me?”

Telling him would only freak him out and prove his theories about her supposed personality change. “I’ll consider telling you, if you answer my question.”

He bristled, grating, “Aveline can drain others to death with a simple touch. The woman she murdered? Meredith. She was...my wife. Nothing you do or say will ever hurt me worse.”

Her chest swelled with sympathy. Poor Bane. He’d lost the woman he loved because of another woman’s selfishness and greed, leaving a hole in his heart. A hole as unfixable as the wound in his shoulder, since Aveline helped fill it with hatred. Now, it festered, leaking poison.

If only Nola could reach inside his mind and soothe every agonizing memory. On the other hand, he wouldn’t be the same man without them. His experiences had shaped him, and Nola liked the end result.

Her eyes widened. She did. She liked him. His intensity and his drive. His determination and strength. The man never gave up. When he got knocked down, he fought his way back up.

“I’m so sorry, Bane,” she said.