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She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling back at him.

  Jackson groaned and pushed away from the wall. He turned his back on her and wandered down the hallway into the living room but didn’t bother turning on the light.

  Ryleigh followed but remained silent. This was a sore subject between them. Now that Jackson had taken his father’s place as King of Cymmera, he wanted Ryleigh to rule beside him.

  He finally turned back to face her. “I need you with me, Ryleigh. I need you to take your place at my side.” He raked a hand through his thick, dark hair.

  Even in the dim light cast from the hallway, Ryleigh could make out tufts sticking up. She took a few steps closer to him, reached up and smoothed his tousled hair. “I know. But I can’t now. You know that, Jackson. You said you understood.”

  He gripped her wrist and brought her fingers to his lips. “I do understand. But it doesn’t make it any easier to be without you.”

  “It’s not easy for me either, you know.”

  “Oh no?”

  “No. I miss you. All the time. I think about you constantly. The urge to be with you is overwhelming.”

  He pulled her into his arms.

  She lowered her voice even more. “It scares me. I’m afraid of losing myself.” The confession didn’t come easy. Jackson was a strong man. A warrior. It would be easy to lose her own ambitions, her sense of self, her independence. She lay her cheek against his chest, letting the steady, rapid beat of his heart soothe her.

  Jackson rested his chin on her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pressure you. The desire to claim you is almost irresistible now.”

  She wanted Jackson so badly, wanted to be with him all the time. But her first responsibility was to Mia. She had to stay in her own realm until Mia was strong enough to survive permanently in Cymmera. She’d already resigned herself to the fact she’d one day live there. It seemed her destiny and Mia’s surely lay in that direction. But she hadn’t yet found a way to wrap her mind around her role as queen. It was just too far-fetched.

  Jackson pulled back. He smoothed a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “Come with me now.”

  “We just went through all of this. I ca—”

  “Not forever. Just for tonight. Come with me for a while.” He tugged on the hair he still held. “We’ll work on your training, since you’ve probably forgotten everything I taught you.”

  Ryleigh laughed, relieved he’d let the difficult conversation drop. Mia should sleep the rest of the night, didn’t usually get up twice. On the off chance she did, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs would be there. The couple had been kind enough to take them in, and they would take care of her until Ryleigh returned. She shrugged. “Sure. I guess I could go for a little while.” She wouldn’t sleep anymore tonight anyway. “Let me change quick.”

  “Fine, but hurry up about it. I don’t have all night.”

  “Yes, dear.” She rolled her eyes but figured he couldn’t see in the dark.

  He swatted her behind.

  She may have figured wrong.

  “Don’t roll those eyes at me, smart ass. As usual, you underestimate my special powers.”

  She laughed, not quite sure if he really could see more clearly in the darkness or just knew her well enough to expect the gesture.

  Jackson followed her down the hallway to her bedroom.

  She opened the door but then stopped short and glanced over her shoulder. “Give me the bat, though. I want to put it away first. Otherwise I might forget, and I won’t have it if I need it.”

  Jackson frowned. “What bat?”

  A chill prickled her skin. He didn’t seem to be playing. “I propped a baseball bat outside Mia’s door when I went in to her.” It only took a split second to realize he didn’t know. She reached for the light switch.

  This time, when he clamped a hand around her wrist, his grip held none of the tenderness his earlier touch had. “Shhh…” He pulled her against him and pressed his lips close to her ear. She strained to hear his whisper over the blood roaring in her ears. “Go get Matt up. Now. I’ll get Mia.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he clamped his hand over it. “Now.” His urgent whisper propelled her toward the Jacobs’ door.

  * * * *

  Jackson resisted the urge to search the house. It wasn’t easy. As he crossed the few feet to Mia’s door, his hand itched to grip his sword, but he ruthlessly tamped down the need. He had to get the girls to safety first.

  He threw Mia’s door all the way open. Darkness crouched in the corners despite the overhead light. “Mia.” He called her name as he crossed the room, hoping not to frighten her, even as he pushed back the covers.

  Her eyes shot open before he could call her a second time. “Jackson?” She sat up and swung her feet off the bed. “What’s wrong? Where’s Ryleigh?”

  “Come with me. Quickly. Stay quiet.” He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her from the bed, his gaze continually darting from one end of the room to the other, his free hand hovering over the sword at his side.

  “Ry—”

  “Shh…Ryleigh’s coming.” He released her arm, placed his hand on the small of her back, and guided her toward the hall.

  The instant Mia spotted her sister moving down the hallway toward her, she ran. Without a sound, she threw her arms around Ryleigh for the briefest second, then stepped back and turned to Jackson, her eyes pleading silently for reassurance.

  A fist knotted in Jackson’s gut. Instincts he didn’t understand rose to the surface, hindering his ability to think logically. He’d been devoid of emotions for hundreds of years before he met Ryleigh and Mia, and the overload of feelings battered him. He must keep them safe.

  Ryleigh kept an arm draped protectively over Mia’s shoulder, her eyes wide with fear. But anger filled them as well. And determination. The same need to protect her sister that had filled them the first time he’d seen her. The love that had kept him from killing her as he’d been instructed. He tore his gaze from hers in an effort to gain some sort of focus.

  Eleanor Jacobs stood beside them, sword in hand, a dangerous scowl out of place on her delicate features. Her aggressive stance pulled him quickly back to reality.

  He didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare mask the slightest sound that might signal an attack. He drew his eyebrows together and held her stare.

  She used her sword to point toward the living room, signaling the direction her husband had gone.

  He glanced quickly over his shoulder in the direction she indicated before leaning close to Ryleigh’s ear. “Seek out Elijah.” The prophet would keep them safe until he could figure out what was going on and return to Cymmera.

  She nodded and pulled Mia closer.

  As soon as he shifted his attention back to Eleanor, she sheathed her weapon at her waist, pressed her hands together, fingers entwined, and lifted them over her head.

  The familiar tingle washed through Jackson. Like static electricity.

  The intensity increased until she could no longer contain it. Eleanor ripped her hands apart, tearing a portal open in the dim hallway, revealing the Kingdom of Cymmera.

  The familiar white stone walls of the castle brought immediate comfort, and Jackson had to resist the overwhelming urge to follow the girls through the portal.

  Ryleigh turned to look at him, wisps of long blonde hair framing her face, and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. It sent a jolt through him, reminiscent of the jolt of electricity when he called a portal. He held her worried gaze until the last of Cymmera disappeared, tamping down the desire she elicited.

  With the girls removed from immediate danger, Jackson’s resolve hardened. He turned a slow circle in the hallway, reaching out with all of his senses. He moved down the hallway toward Mia’s room, then stood just outside the door where Ryleigh had left the bat. Matt Jacobs would secure the property, search every inch of the yard and house. But he wouldn’t find anything. Whoever had been there was lon
g gone, leaving no trace of what his intent had been.

  Positioning his back against the wall, Jackson crouched and ran a hand over the spot where someone must have stood. He placed his hand flat against the floor, and let his eyes fall shut, trusting his instincts completely. If someone tried to attack, he would undoubtedly sense it. Energy flowed into his hand, heated his palm. Someone familiar had stood there. Someone he knew. He concentrated on that one spot, desperate to bring it into focus.

  The heat dissipated. The knowledge was there, yet so elusive, like a wisp of smoke carried away on a soft breeze. He couldn’t quite grasp it. Giving up, he stood and faced Matt Jacobs. “Find anything?”

  “Nah, nothing. But I didn’t really expect to.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What do you want to do?”

  Matt stared at him, sword held ready. “I don’t know.” With one last look around, he sheathed his sword at his side. “We’ve built a life here, Jackson. Eleanor and I. And yet…I don’t know. I guess sometimes I miss my home.”

  Jackson grinned at the other man. “So come home then.”

  Matt’s crooked smile didn’t quite reach his dark eyes. “Maybe. I don’t know. I wish it was that simple.” He sighed and propped his hand on his sword handle, fingered the jeweled design. “Anyway. For the moment, I’ll return to Cymmera, until we can figure out what’s going on. I don’t want Eleanor in danger. That’s part of the reason I left in the first place.”

  The admission cut through Jackson. His kingdom was in danger, and because of that, some of his people had fled. “I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

  The other man waved him off. “It wasn’t your fault. The girls needed protection. You simply did what you had to do. Besides, you made it very clear when you asked me to take them that I had the option of saying no. I like Ryleigh, and Mia’s a great kid. And they are princesses of Cymmera. No matter where I choose to live, my loyalty will always lie with my kingdom.”

  “You’re a good man, Matt.” Jackson clapped him on the back. “Thank you.”

  “Come on. Let’s go check on them.” Matt’s gaze darted one last time around the hallway, before he turned, lifted his hands, and tore open a portal to Cymmera. He glanced over his shoulder and grinned at Jackson. This time joy flickered in his eyes. “It’s been too long. I forgot how amazing it feels to hold all of that barely contained energy.”

  They stepped through the portal into the castle and waited to be sure nothing followed them while the portal closed.

  If he knew Ryleigh, she would settle Mia but not stray too far from her side. He thanked Matt again and jogged up the stairs into the tower that held Ryleigh and Mia’s chambers. He pushed open the heavy wooden door and found Ryleigh curled on the couch hugging a pillow against her chest.

  She jumped up at the sight of him. “Did you find anything?”

  “No. I didn’t really expect to, though.”

  Ryleigh frowned. “Why not?”

  “If someone was still there when I arrived, I would have sensed it immediately.”

  “How can you be so sure?” She played her fingers along the edges of the pillow she still held.

  “I’m a Death Dealer, Ryleigh, part of an elite team of soldiers. I’ve trained as a warrior for hundreds of years. My instincts are quite…strong.”

  Her scowl almost made him laugh. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the realities of his realm.

  “Speaking of training, we can’t wait any longer. Why did you leave the bat outside the door?”

  “I didn’t want to frighten Mia.” She peered at him from beneath her lashes, and heat shot straight through him.

  He forced away the urge to soften his tone. “I’ve told you before, if you feel the need to grab a weapon, you never put it down. You must learn to trust your instincts. If someone had attacked, you would have been defenseless.” Not that the baseball bat she insisted on keeping close would be any defense against an attack from another realm. A tremor tore through him at the thought.

  Her cheeks reddened. “I know. I’m sorry.” She flopped back onto the couch, clutched the pillow against her, and sulked.

  She would, undoubtedly, be the death of him. “All right. Where’s Mia?”

  “She’s settled in bed with a book.”

  “Is she all right?”

  Ryleigh shrugged. “I guess. She seems to be. She wants to learn everything there is to know about Cymmera, so she’s reading an old book Elijah gave her last time we were here.”

  “Did you find Elijah when you got here?”

  “No. I looked, but I couldn’t find him, so we just came here.”

  “Let’s go.” Jackson reached out a hand. Waited.

  Ryleigh threw the pillow at him, but then grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

  The urge to drag her into his arms battered him. He needed her. Needed her light to balance his darkness. Needed her wisdom, her calm, her support. “Come on. You must train.” Turning away from her proved nearly impossible, but he released her hand and forced himself.

  “I know. I’m sorry. How is everything here, Jackson?” She weaved her fingers through his as they walked.

  He shook his head. “I’m no king.”

  She stopped short, the tug on his hand keeping him from leaving the chamber.

  He stood in front of the closed door but made no move to face her.

  “Look at me, Jackson.”

  Biting back a small sigh, he relented and turned to her. Her eyes burned with…something he couldn’t quite place. Anger? Fear? Pride? Maybe a little of each.

  “You are the King of Cymmera now.”

  If he only had half his father’s strength, wisdom and courage, he might stand a chance. As it was…

  She lifted a skeptical brow. “Is there anyone more suited to take your father’s place?”

  Was there? Who knew? Elijah, maybe. The prophet had an important role in the kingdom, but he would often disappear for days at a time to meditate or do research.

  “Jackson.” Ryleigh held his gaze.

  He couldn’t look away.

  “You can do this. You’re father trusted you to lead his kingdom in the event of his death. You bear the mark of the king.” She rubbed his shoulder where the tattoo marking him as a Death Dealer was crossed with a red slash marking him as the king.

  “It would be so much easier if you would stay here with me. I still haven’t chosen a second in command or an advisor.” He gripped her hands tightly in his.

  She started to pull away, but he held her firmly in place.

  “You are meant to be my queen. You say I wear the mark of the king, but do you mention you wear the mark of the queen? How can you tell me to shoulder my responsibilities, while you shirk your own?” He was being too hard on her. It wasn’t fair, and yet he couldn’t stop.

  “You know why I ca—”

  “I know.” He released her and stepped back, held his hands up, palms toward her. A gesture of surrender. “I know, Ryleigh. And I understand. I even agree. When I’m not being a jerk.”

  A corner of her mouth lifted, but her eyes remained serious, the deep blue turning an almost turbulent gray.

  “It’s just…” Jackson had to move away. He paced, unable to remain so close and not touch her. How could he explain the wild range of emotions pummeling him? Emotions he barely understood, emotions that had been buried for hundreds of years until…Ryleigh.

  Resisting the urge to claim her was proving harder than he’d expected. A constant pressure nagged at him, torturing him. One kiss. That’s all it would take to make her his forever. One kiss, while the ancients chanted the timeless ritual that would bind them as one. Make her his for eternity. He shook off the compulsion, the intense need to have her beside him.

  His thoughts turned darker. Kai. His father’s most trusted advisor, his second in command. Jackson’s mentor. The man who’d turned his back on his kingdom, orchestrated the ambu
sh that killed King Maynard. Kai’s betrayal cut deep into Jackson’s soul. His fists clenched on their own, and he lowered his voice. “I don’t trust anyone but you.”

  Ryleigh lowered her gaze.

  A stab of guilt prodded him. “Look, I’m s—”

  The heavy wooden door to his chamber slammed open with a bang against the stone wall.

  Jackson turned, stepped in front of Ryleigh, and unsheathed his sword, all in one smooth motion.

  Chayce stood in the doorway, lips pressed firmly together, and let his gaze play over what he could see of Ryleigh. “Well, well, well.”

  Jackson stiffened. Jealousy burned a hole in his gut. He tightened his grip on the sword. Ridiculous. Chayce was his brother. Even though they’d been having problems since just before their father’s death, they’d always been close. Jackson had to get his emotions into some kind of balance if he was going to rule even halfway effectively. Which was not looking too promising. He loosened his fingers and sheathed the sword, then leashed his anger. “What’s wrong, Chayce?”

  His brother’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? What’s wrong?” His laughter held only sarcasm. “Let’s see. First I looked for you in the throne room, but only found my father’s empty throne collecting dust. Then I searched the Council Chambers. Of course, they were empty as well.”

  Jackson started to seethe. It began as a slow burning in the pit of his stomach. Instead of standing by his side and offering support, Chayce had whined constantly since their father’s death. No matter what Jackson did, what decisions he made, Chayce disagreed.

  “Let me ask you something, brother.” Chayce clenched and unclenched his hand around the hilt of his sword, his black gloves creaking with each movement. “Do you ever plan to avenge our father’s death? Or are you just going to continue playing with your girlfriend?” He gestured toward Ryleigh, a look of pure derision crossing his face, an instantaneous loss of control before he once again schooled his features.

  Bile crept up Jackson’s throat. The burn fueled the fire his runaway emotions had already sparked. “My girlfriend is your queen.” Sort of. “You would do well to remember that and show the proper respect.”