though losing her would have killed him. Vikan had stolen Taylor from the Golden City, risking his power and position, when he believed she would leave. And Kirov had fought tooth and nail to win Lainey’s heart.
Yet, Jaxor was still in a negotiation with the Mevirax that Erin suspected concerned her.
He hadn’t told them to go fuck themselves. He hadn’t claimed her as his. He’d done everything in his power to keep her at a distance…because he knew he would give her up?
Erin would have to save herself. She wasn’t relying on Jaxor. If Erin ever wanted to see the Golden City again, her home, her family, her friends…then she would have to act.
Sidling up to the control console, her fingertips hovered over the silver pad. Then she traced the pattern she remembered in her mind—a looping swirl that ended with a sharp slash to the right.
It was almost too easy when she heard the gentle whirring of the engine starting up. Her heartbeat sped with adrenaline and she looked over her shoulder, half expecting Jaxor to come barreling down the tunnel at any moment, to drag her from the hovercraft, and lock her away in the cave.
But there was still no sign of him.
She tapped the pad and simultaneously pressed the clear button directly to the left.
The hovercraft rose. She knew it would. She’d seen Jaxor do it the night before. She kept her finger on the button, kept her other finger on the silver pad. And she continued to rise, so unlike the sharp hurtle that Jaxor had performed.
Erin’s heartbeat was in her throat as panic began to rise. She was afraid of heights and the floor of the cave was growing smaller and smaller, the hole in the mountain above her widening and widening.
Then again, a little voice in her head was telling her to go. Fly away. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? Then she would never see Jaxor again. He would never be able to trade her, her future would be in her own hands.
Just as she reached the mountain’s entrance, just as a chilling wind whipped at her face, stinging her eyes, just as she saw the endless fog that looked like pillows stretched out before her, she remembered last night. Jaxor’s face flashed in her mind, firelight reflecting in his darkened eyes, staring at her like…like he was seeing her for the first time.
She lost her nerve.
Her finger slipped off the button as fright replaced her sudden recklessness. She dropped fast, back inside the mountain, and she barely held back her shriek, diving for the clear block of a button, before the hovercraft’s descent froze in mid-air, only a few feet from the cave floor.
With her blood roaring in her ears, she gently slid her finger down the pad and the hovercraft came to a gentle landing. When she repeated the pattern on the silver pad…the engine died.
Silence deafened her. Almost in a state of disbelief—she’d actually done it—she jumped down from the hovercraft and walked back down the tunnel on trembling knees.
Erin wasn’t so foolish as to not prepare for a long journey. She had nothing but the tunic she’d stolen from Jaxor. She would need rations, clothes, fuel, maybe even weapons.
She went to the fire, one that Jaxor must’ve made before he left that morning. She stoked it, watching the embers glow. Adrenaline was making her giddy and excited, but also focused.
Her crazy plan might work. She just had a few kinks to work out—well, more than a few. And she needed to practice piloting the hovercraft more, even though she dreaded the thought. It made a shiver run down her spine.
Jaxor returned a short while later and her greedy eyes drank him in as if parched. She ignored the relief she felt when she saw him—that was a part of her that she couldn’t turn off even if she tried.
Instead, she cleared her throat—and hopefully the longing with it—and asked, “Where did you go?”
Inwardly, she cringed. She didn’t mean to sound like she was keeping tabs on him, but it certainly came out that way.
His appearance gave her pause. She saw—with that same annoying relief—that the kekevir wound looked like it was healing nicely. He’d taken out her stitches himself sometime yesterday. And the mysterious cut on his pectoral muscle had faded considerably. However, he looked tired. Drawn around the eyes. She wondered if he’d slept at all last night.