Black Moon Draw

"What is wrong with you? I . . . you just . . . are you insane?"

"I have been called much worse."

"But if it doesn't work, you die and I get to watch your world implode in two days!"

"Then so be it." He refrained from saying what he wanted, that his world was going to implode anyway if she did not unlock her magic. His kingdom died today with him, or it died in three days without her power.

Holding her gaze, he waited. Emotions flew through her eyes. She sat between his legs, thighs pressed together and palms on his chest. His hands remained on her arms, in case they started to fall, and he studied her feminine features.

"I wish you hadn't told me any of this," she said in a hushed, mournful tone.

"Because you could walk away if you didn't know."

She nodded. "You aren't the person I thought you were."

"Good. Now get us out of here."

"I can't." Her eyes watered. She lifted the medallion at her chest.

The Shadow Knight cupped one cheek in his large hand, marveling at how smooth her skin was. "What do you know of it?"

"We don't have time for -"

"Think, witch," he growled. "What do you know of the Heart?"

She blinked back tears. A hot drop hit his thumb and he wiped it from her face. Strands of brown hair tickled the back of his hand, and he waited. His battle-witch had an intelligence in her eyes that told him he was merely scratching the surface of who she was. It had taken some reflection for him to accept that not only was there another world, but she was from it.

Since accepting it, though, he had found her oddities much easier to tolerate and her more intriguing than was wise. She needed time they did not have, and he used patience he rarely entertained out of necessity. They were both out of their element and almost out of time.

"It has a thousand years of magic. The warrior queen Naia used it to curse Brown Sun Lake and everyone else after her husband was killed. She seems to think . . ." She trailed off, nibbling on her lower lip. "She kind of left that part out when we talked in my dream."

"'Tis an extension of you, a tool, the way a sword is for a warrior," he replied. "It wants naught that you do not wish it to want. You can control it."

The tower jolted and dropped once more, thrusting her into his arms. This time, the groan of the chain was loud, a grating last breath as it struggled to hold the tower.