Gena Showalter: The Amazon's Curse

Thankfully the guards recognized him. He was hefted over a shoulder and carted inside the palace. The touch disturbed him, but he didn't fight it. He was in too much of a hurry and knew this was the best way. By the time they reached his personal chamber, there was a buzz of activity, his name being whispered from everyone's lips.

"Blood," he rasped as the guard lay him down on the bed.

That guard tilted his head, offering his own neck.

Zane shook his head and closed his eyes. "Glass." He would not take from a living source. Still couldn't stomach the thought—unless that living source was Nola. Once, when he'd ensured she would welcome him by invading her dreams, he had tasted her. The sweetness of her blood…the decadence of her moans…and he'd reveled in every nuance of her. He would not overshadow that precious memory by taking from someone else, even in his desperation.

How did she affect him this way?

Perhaps he did not mind her hands on him because he saw himself in her eyes. Saw vulnerability and pain, fear and yearning. Perhaps they shared a similar past; she'd alluded to such a thing once before, when they'd been pitted against each other on the island. That meant someone had hurt her at some point in her life. Hurt her deeply and unequivocally. Zane wanted to destroy that someone, bit by bit.

Warm hands settled on his shoulders and shook him.

His eyelids fluttered open, a growl in his throat. When he saw that Layel loomed above him, glass in hand, he forced himself to relax against the feathered mattress. "My king, I—"

"No talking just yet. Drink," Layel said, placing the glass to his lips. Tall and leanly muscled, with white hair and blue eyes, he was an eerily beautiful sight that reminded Zane of both his rescue from the demon queen and the horrors he'd endured at the hands of the gods. "Drink."

Zane opened his mouth, and the sweet nectar of life poured down his throat. He swallowed greedily. Once again, warmth spread through him. Warmth and strength and determination.

He had not lied to Nola. He was going back for her. He would conquer that damn camp and everyone inside it. Nola will not like that. Those women are her sisters.

Well, they damn well should not have tried to enslave him, he thought darkly. But he knew deep down that he wouldn't hurt them. Not really. For Nola, he would simply send them on their way, claiming the camp as his own and remaining there until she could leave.

"Good now?" Layel asked.

"More," he said when the supply ran out. He'd need every ounce of his strength to conquer the Amazons.

Layel cut his wrist, filled the glass with his own life force, and offered it up. This time, Zane was able to hold the glass on his own. He drained every drop. When he finished, he licked his lips and faced the king.

"I am ready to talk," he said. "You escaped the gods and their island." He grunted as his wrists and ankles popped back into place. "Did you win their game?"

The king's lips slowly lifted in a grin. "Delilah did. She saved us both. We have been searching for you since the moment of our return, but the Amazons hid you well."

"Have you news of my sister?" a female voice asked.

Zane looked past his king and saw Delilah standing in the doorway. She was petite in appearance, but as fierce as Nola on a battlefield. Her blue hair was falling around her shoulders, and worry was etched in the violet depths of her eyes.

"She is alive," he told her, and she expelled a relieved breath. "And she is mine."

"And does she agree with that statement?" Delilah's head tilted to the side as she rubbed at her slightly rounded belly.

Slightly rounded. A baby? Layel was to become a father? An ache bloomed in Zane's chest. He'd wanted children with Cassandra. Had dreamed of them. Yet that, too, had been denied him. Until…now?

With Nola…You cannot truly touch her, you fool. That dream is still dead. He couldn't make himself care, however. As long as he had Nola, nothing else mattered.

"Well?" Delilah insisted.

Did Nola wish to belong to him? she'd asked. He thought so, yes. She had helped him. She had even wanted to go with him. But she was also a warrior to her core, an Amazon warrior at that, and they only tolerated men during mating season. He wanted far more than that. No matter the circumstances. He wanted what Layel and Delilah clearly had.

"We will see," Zane said, kicking his legs over the bed.

"You only just returned," Layel said. "Where are you going?"

"To get my woman." This one, he wouldn't let get away.

Grunts, groans and the clang of metal against metal roused Nola from her troubled sleep. She wanted to rise, to see what was happening, but could not force her body into action. Her back was a mass of agony, the skin flayed completely. The rest of her, well, it had not fared much better during her battle with Amelia. Nola had won, her determination stronger than any weapon, but she had not emerged unscathed. There were deep sword slices all down her arms, stomach and legs.

She lay on her bed, her stomach pressed into soft blankets. Alone, always alone. No one was allowed to help her. Not in any way. Amazons healed as slowly as humans, so she knew she would suffer like this for many weeks to come.

Outside, a scream echoed. Her muscles were heavy as stones, and she didn't have the strength to drag herself upright. Or gather food. Not that she even had the strength to eat. She wanted to help her sisters, though. Despite what had been done to them, she loved them.

"You will die for this, vampires!" someone shouted.

"Not by your hand," she heard a male voice say. The vampire king?

Despite her pain, Nola grinned. Relaxed. Zane was here.

For hours, the battle continued to rage. Nola didn't want her sisters injured, but neither did she want Zane to lose, and waiting proved difficult. She chewed at her cheeks, dug her nails into her palms and broke into a sweat, which caused her back to burn as if it had been set on fire.

Finally, the tent flap rose and light flooded inside. And then he was there, standing in front of her. Her vampire. Zane. Her heart knocked against her ribs.

"Knew you'd come," she said, her voice barely audible. She hadn't screamed during her whipping, hadn't made a sound, but holding her cries inside had scraped her throat raw.

"Nola…sweet…" He approached her slowly, as if she were a trapped animal. " What did they do to you?" There was horror in his tone. He crouched beside her, reached out and smoothed her hair from her damp forehead. Then he froze. "How is this possible? I'm touching you."

"Yes. Happened just after you'd left." Any other time, she would have been mortified for him to see her like this: broken, helpless, naked but for a sheet covering her lower half. Her relief at seeing him alive and well, however, was simply too great.

"I will destroy the gods for this. I will find a way to raid the heavens and I will—"

"No, no. This is a blessing. I've had time to think, and I believe I know what's happening. Each time I admit something about you, like the fact that you did not deserve what was done to you, and that I trust you, I've been given back a piece of my life."

His brows furrowed together, and a spark of hope entered his eyes. "Can you pass the camp boundary?"

"No. My sisters carried me there, meaning to toss me out, but that invisible wall blocked them."

Fury replaced the hope. "We didn't hurt your sisters—I knew you would hate it if we did, but now I wish I'd sliced each and every one of them to pieces. They abandoned camp or I would see to it now."

"You're here now. That's all that matters. But…how long will you be able to stay?" Her nervousness returned. His king would want him back. And the Amazons would one day come back. "You can't remain forever and I can't leave. We'll be forced to separate again and—"