Everlife

How is there no pain? She’s Troikan. The enemy. I’m Myriadian.

Perhaps we are bonded...

Her back is pressed against my chest, her head twisted to the side, her eyes staring up at me. Are shadows dancing in her irises?

If we were truly bonded, I wouldn’t be resting my blade against her throat. Part of me wouldn’t want to kill her.

Part of me really wants to kill her.

The other part of me...just plain wants her. She’s soft where I’m hard, perfect where I’m flawed, and her beauty takes my breath away. Azure hair cascades around an exquisite and deceptively delicate face. She has a pert nose, angelic cheekbones and a stubborn chin. Her lips are lush, like a ripened apple, and kissable—lickable. What does she taste like?

I force my attention to return to her eyes. The shadows are gone. Perhaps vanquished. Unless I imagined them?

Right now? Anything is possible.

Losing track of my thoughts... Don’t exactly care... One of her eyes is blue and one is green, but both are luminous with love. An emotion never directed at me. It is exquisite.

A pang of...something sears my chest, branding me. Affecting me deeply. Anger, perhaps. Or irritation. Not a deeper attraction and a sharper awareness. We mean nothing to each other, and I won’t have her or anyone thinking otherwise. But anger and irritation fail to explain the intensity of the burn...or the accompanying ache of yearning.

Can’t be yearning. I live by a code: Want nothing, need nothing.

I look away from the girl, and finally, blessedly begin to breathe with more ease.

Must maintain emotional distance. Only moments ago, she said, You cannot trust me. I love you not.

But...why would she warn me of her disloyalty? She strikes me as foolhardy, but not foolish.

“Even I know blackmail isn’t the answer, Luciana,” the big redheaded male says, cutting into my thoughts. His volume is no longer tempered.

“Do you have a better idea?” the brunette demands.

A pause. A sigh. “No, but what happens after Miss Lockwood renders her vote?”

“I’m not sure. We’ll figure it out.”

No longer caught up in the girl, I look over the Generals. Their identities click, for all MLs learn to recognize all Troikan Generals. Shamus leads the strongest, most bloodthirsty army of TLs in Troika’s history. Luciana and her crew are tasked with keeping the peace inside the realm.

Not so good at your job, eh, Luce?

There’s a price on each General’s head. Kill one, and you will earn more credits than you can spend. Credits—Myriadian money. Kill both Generals, and you’ll earn the eternal respect of Ambrosine, Prince of Ravens. My Secondking, and hero. His power is legendary. His strength, unparalleled. He doesn’t wield darkness; he is darkness.

I should have attacked the Troikans while I had the chance. Instead, I acted the fool and focused on Tenley.

I love you, too.

Her voice echoes in my head, as if a memory has slipped free from the shadows. The words aren’t just a declaration, but also a response—to my declaration? A kernel of unease ghosts through me.

Did I once tell her I loved her, even though I believe love is an illusion?

Always be the first to walk away.

Perhaps I lied to her. I’m rotten to the core and not above such trickery. But why can’t I remember? And why bother to go to so much trouble? The enemy you allow to live today is the one who stabs you in the back tomorrow. I have the scars to prove it.

Kill!

Trust.

A growl vibrates in my chest. The tug-of-war inside my head needs to end. Now!

I close my eyes, searching the Grid for—I go cold. In the back of my mind is a small tendril of Light that is radiating from her... This girl is more dangerous than most.

The Light connects us, forming a bridge between us. Once, a bridge stretched between Myriad and Troika.

We are truly bonded, then. I willingly pledged my Everlife to her, giving her power over me. Why? This makes no sense. And why would one of my targets willingly wed me? Why pretend to love me?

Unless she thought to control me, staying my hand from delivering a killing blow? As the General stated, I can’t hurt her without hurting myself.

The rage returns, redoubles. I will not be controlled!

Killkillkill.

The shadows writhe with new purpose, sharp pains shooting through me...then seeping out of me and trickling onto the bridge that binds me to the girl. Agony contorts her features, the color fading from her skin. If I have damaged her irreparably, I’ll—

Nothing. She’s fine. She must be. Her Light hasn’t damaged me.

Is it possible the bond has made us both Troikan and Myriadian?

—Killian! Remember me. Please.—

A new voice whispers inside my mind. Her voice. Miss Lockwood. Tenley. This isn’t a memory. I know it with every fiber of my being. Somehow she’s speaking inside my head, and every word ignites a new spark of Light.

The shadows writhe faster, lashing at my Grid. Sharp pains stab at my temples.

I attempt to push the question that plagues me most along the Grid, speaking to her as I would a fellow Myriadian. —Did you wed me in order to protect yourself from my wrath?—

Her eyes widen with surprise. —Are you kidding? Protect myself from your wrath? I hate to break it to you, soldier, but I’m more powerful than you are. I wedded you because I love you.—

It worked! She heard me, and responded. The fact that she thinks she’s more powerful than me... I snort. As for her supposed love... I gulp.

Must stop harping on her supposed feelings for me. They do not matter. She does not matter.

Shamus peers at Luciana, clearly trying to mask his feelings for the other General and failing. “All right. We’ll do this your way, Ana.”

She hisses with displeasure. “Call me Ana again. See what happens.”

Mental note: Luciana Rossi has a temper.

Tempers can be exploited.