SHE NEVER CRIED, NEVER even gasped as the whip flayed her delicate skin.

Nicolai was chained to Odette’s bed. He hadn’t marked Jane as he’d wanted, but he was somehow attuned to her in a way he doubted he had ever been attuned to another. He should not have been able to focus on her, especially since he’d been fighting sizzling desire for her—her body, her blood—and all other thoughts had become fogged and insignificant in comparison.

Now, he felt fury. So much fury, and every bit of it was leveled on the guards.

They had dragged Jane along the opulent corridor filled with portraits of the queen and her daughters, down the winding stairs with dark velvet carpeting, and to the extravagant banqueting hall. Though she was no longer in the bedroom, Nicolai saw her still. As if their minds were somehow connected. She struggled the entire way. Only when they bent her over the dining table, her face pressed into the polished wood, only when they stripped away the back of her gown, had she settled.

Panting, she twisted her head to gaze over at the queen. The Queen of Hearts, a woman known to dine on the still beating organ during the spells and incantations used in her never-ending quest for youth.

“Don’t do this,” Jane pleaded. “I meant no offense.”

The queen raised one of her many chins, the ones beneath it jiggling. “And yet it was offense that you gave.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You will be more so.”

“Please,” Jane said, her skin both pallid with fear and bright with exertion. “Give me another chance.”

Perhaps the queen replied. Nicolai would never know. He was too focused on Jane’s back. Already she bore scars. More than he could possibly count. They twined from her spine to her rib cage, red and angry, badges of pain. They stretched past the robe’s gaping material, perhaps even riding the length of her legs.

What the hell had been done to her?

His guilt sprang back to instant, shattering life, and he was unable to destroy it this time. He had placed her in this situation. This delicate, haunted woman with the tantalizing scent, who had offered him the only glimpse of sunlight in a darkened void. She had come to save him, had trusted him enough to straddle him while talking to him. To rub against him, ratcheting his desire to unequaled heights, even without climax. And her resistance…gods, he’d wanted to quash it. Still did. Wanted her to know his bite, his kiss.

His possession.

Perhaps she was merely a challenge he had to triumph above. He didn’t care. Quite simply, she was his. That was not in question. Mine, his cells continued to scream. All mine.

He could not allow her to be whipped.

Nicolai looked at the key resting at his side. Jane had tossed it at him, and it had landed on the mattress. A brave gesture on her part, but useless. He could not bend enough to reach it with his mouth. He could not angle his hands to grab it. He could not do anything with it. Yet the fact that she’d tried, that she’d thought of him in the face of her own peril…affected him. He would escape. However necessary. He would save her.

Never before had he been left on his own outside of his cell, with no guards within sight or hearing distance. He jerked at his cuffs. The metal links scraped his already cut skin, digging deeper, deeper. He’d pulled at them while straining toward Jane, but at the time he hadn’t cared, hadn’t felt any sting but that of passion. Now, he felt the pain. That didn’t stop him, however.

Just as before, the latches held, both to him and to the bed. He gritted his teeth. His hate for Laila, her mother and even Delfina grew exponentially. Destroy…

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the power still swirling inside him. There it was, dark, so dark, churning, an untapped storm just waiting, desperate to be unleashed; and all he had to do was break through the glass cage that had been erected within him.

A glass cage with thin, riverlike cracks running through the center.

Exploit. He banged against the mental glass, over and over again. Nothing. He clawed at it. Still nothing. Damn it!

“Now,” he heard the queen say, pulling Nicolai back to the present. To Jane and their connection. Somehow, enough of his magic had escaped to allow him to continue watching her despite the distance between them.

Leather whistled through air. The first blow landed. Jane squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together. She grimaced, but not a sound did she make.

They had done it. They had whipped her.

Just like that, something inside of Nicolai broke. Not the glass cage, but something far more dangerous, roaring like a wild animal pushed beyond its limits.

From the first moment Nicolai had spotted Jane, his body had reacted to her. He had experienced lust, guilt and possessiveness in varying degrees. Now, the possessiveness simply took over.

Mine, he thought again.

This time, the word sprung from deep inside him, as unstoppable as an avalanche. He did not understand the fierceness accompanying the thought, and refused to ponder it now. Later. He would ponder later. Right now, more than before, he knew only that she was his—his savior, his woman—and nothing else mattered.

The guards had touched her, hurt her. They would die. Painfully. By the time he finished with them they would probably thank him for killing them.

All he had to do was free himself. And he would. Nothing would stop him. Not now, not anymore.

“Soon” had at last arrived.

Being a magical vampire, as Jane had called him, was not going to aid him; he admitted that now. Still his determination intensified, blending with the hate, the burn of that possessiveness. He would reach her by grit alone; he would save her. No matter what he had to do. His gaze strayed to the wrist cuffs and narrowed. Without his thumbs, his hands would slide right through.

He didn’t have to think about it. Goodbye, thumbs.

Biting his tongue against the pain he knew was to come, he slammed his hands, thumbs out, into the headboard. Crunch. The bones broke with that very first punch. He sucked in a breath, but, like Jane, he did not utter a sound. Punch, punch, punch. Each new blow caused even more damage, ripping tendon, tearing muscle, flattening bone.

By the time he finished, he was sweating, bleeding, his hands limp. But his top half was free. With a growl, he jolted upright. Heard the whistle of leather through air, a soft inhalation of breath. Another lash against Jane’s delicate skin.

Skin he wanted to caress.

His hands were too mutilated to grab the key. In fact, his efforts sent the little piece of metal sliding to the floor with a clink. He would need it later, to remove the neck cuff, and so he would pick it up with his mouth—after he’d freed himself.

Through narrowed eyes, he peered down at his feet. At a different angle, those feet would glide straight through the metal rings. And all he had to do to achieve that different angle was break every bone that ran from his ankle to his toes.

Nicolai started kicking the footboard.

JANE CLOSED HER EYES to hide the tears trying so determinedly to form and spill. It wasn’t like she’d never experienced pain before. For God’s sake, her spine had been broken, her legs unusable for months. Then there’d been the surgeries. Surgery after surgery to pin her bones in their proper places. Then, of course, the rehabilitation.

So, this whipping? Not even a blip on her agony radar. And yet, the humiliation of being bent over a table, her clothing ripped away, her scars revealed to those who sought to harm her, her body bound with ties she couldn’t see—magic?—nearly undid her. And for what? For failing to speak with a fat, ugly woman when summoned?

Poor Odette. Was this how she’d lived? Always fearing the next punishment? And poor Nicolai. Jane could not blame him for doing everything within his power to save himself. She would have done the same.

In fact, she could blame only herself for this. Had she listened to Nicolai, had she freed him when he’d wanted, they would have been far, far away from this dreadful place. Well, he would have been. He would have left her behind. And he still might, she thought. During their talk, she had not garnered a promise from him. Not to keep her with him, not to protect her. And now, it was too late. There was no way she’d leave him bound after this. Not for any reason. She would free him the moment she was physically able, then take off on her own.

Dumb on her part, maybe. Probably. Okay, definitely. Allowing herself to be separated from the one person who knew who and what she was, the one person who could get her home…so damn foolish. But that still wasn’t going to stop her.

And, wow. Jane Parker, considered a dummy. That was a first. She laughed without humor. A novelty in the face of pain. Nice.

“This amuses you?” the queen demanded.

Jane refused to acknowledge her.

There was a squeak of outrage. “Clearly you are not hitting her hard enough. You.” The queen snapped her fingers. “Take over the whip. Your arms are stronger, as I can well attest.”

Oh, gross.

A pause, then the whip continued to descend. Harder, so much harder. Over and over again, minutes ticking by. Still Jane did not utter a sound. She wanted to go home. Back to her boring life, where she was in control.

The whip stopped falling. Finally, a reprieve.

“Have you at last learned your lesson, Odette?” the queen asked, expectant. “Or shall I have him remove the skin on your legs, as well?”

She opened her mouth to tell the bitch to go to hell—no ignoring her this time—but she stopped herself before a single word escaped. Did these people believe in hell, or even know what it was? Would she announce her humanity and lose the protection—what little there was—in being thought of as Princess Odette?

“Silence will not—”

A roar echoed from the walls, harsh, guttural and a promise of pain.

Everyone in the room stilled. Jane forgot to breathe. That sound…she’d never heard its like. There was an animal on the loose, a lion probably, there just had to be. And people were clearly on the menu.

Another roar, followed by the crash of furniture and the shattering of knickknacks. Screams of agony. Gasps, racing footsteps. Had her guards left?

“Don’t leave me here,” she shouted.

“What’s going on?” the queen snapped. Okay. Good. She was still here. Bitch that she was. “You, find out. You, shield me.”

“Free me,” Jane demanded. “Now.”

They paid her no heed.

One of the guards headed toward the entryway, where other guards were pouring inside to escape the beast, but he didn’t make it outside the room. Not alive. There was a blur of movement, then blood was squirting, a headless body falling.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Nicolai. He was a mess, covered in blood, limping, his arms hanging at his sides. His fangs were bared in a fearsome, crimson scowl, and she knew.

He was the animal.

Thank God. Some of the tension drained from her. Somehow, some way, he’d managed to escape. His plan to destroy the people who lived inside this palace was well under way.

Before, she’d thought there would be survivors. Now, not so much.

He barreled into another guard, his shoulder slamming into the man’s middle and knocking him backward. The guard propelled into another, the one with the whip. The two fell to the floor. Nicolai slashed into the whipper’s neck and shook, a wolf with his first meal in months. Screams…silence…death…

Just like that, Jane was freed from whatever had bound her. She straightened. Sharp lances of pain shot from her back, spiraling though the rest of her. She hardly noticed. Her gown sagged from her shoulders, momentarily exposing her breasts. Hurriedly she righted the material, holding it up.

Nicolai’s silver-gold eyes landed on the queen, who was no longer shielded by a man. Blood—and other things—dripped from his mouth. His expression was so dark, so murderous, even Jane backed away from him. He was a terrifying sight. A warrior lost to bloodlust, his only goal the destruction of every one and every thing around him.

He advanced on the queen. “Die. You die.”

“How dare you threaten me and my people this way?” the bitch snapped. “I allowed you to live after you tormented my eldest daughter, and now you think to spit on my mercy? Guards!”

No guards came. Perhaps they were too busy being dead.

“She…mine,” Nicolai snarled, moving in front of Jane while still advancing on the queen. There was something wrong with his feet, his ankles twisted at an odd angle, yet his steps were measured, clipped with determination.

The queen lifted her mountain of chins. “You think to protect my daughter from me? The daughter you tried to slay?”

“Mine!”

“Come on, then, slave. Come get me.”

Jane’s heart pounded with renewed force. Her legs shook. This was a showdown the queen couldn’t hope to win. Right? Please be right.

Nicolai leaped.

Grinning, the queen stretched out one arm and ripples of power pulsated from her. The air around her shimmered, thickened. Nicolai slammed into a wall Jane couldn’t see, ricocheting backward.

Another roar ripped from his throat as he jumped to his feet. He pounded his injured fists into that invisible shield, his fangs flashing.

The queen laughed, smug. “Do you see now? Even were you at your strongest, you could not touch me. I am beyond your reach.”

Booted footsteps reverberated, and Jane watched, wide-eyed, as the second line of defense marched into the room. So. There were more guards, after all. This new contingent held swords and spears, and when they spotted the bloody Nicolai, they bolted into action.

“No!” Jane threw herself in front of him, the action born of instinct rather than thought. As she well knew, even vampires could be killed, and she didn’t want Nicolai to—couldn’t watch him—experience that.

Strong arms banded around her waist and jerked her into a hard body. Instinct still drove her and, for a moment, she fought, kicking and elbowing.

“Mine. Be…still.”

Nicolai. She relaxed, despite his raging animal nature. He was warm against her. Solid, sturdy despite his wounds. Even decadent. Her inhalations were coming so quickly, she scented the sandalwood she was already coming to love.

Okay, then. They would die together, she thought distantly. She’d survived so much the past year. The car accident, injuries that would have killed most people. Injuries that should have killed her. Especially since she’d yearned for death, and hadn’t done anything to aid her own cause.

She’d been so lost, wondering. Why her? What was so different, so special, about her that she could endure what others had not? Nothing, that’s what.

And now that she wanted to live, she would finally die. Irony at its finest. She would not be allowed to know Nicolai better. She would not get to spend time with him, laugh with him or make love with him.

She should have kissed him earlier.

“Mine,” Nicolai repeated against her ear. “Safe.” He had stretched out an arm, mimicking the queen, and the air around them had shimmered, forming a…shield? For them?

Her jaw dropped as the guards slammed into it and flew backward, just as Nicolai had done.

A gasp escaped her. “How did you—?”

“Walk,” Nicolai said in that gravelly voice. His one-word sentences were as frustrating as they were welcome. He nudged her forward.

One step, two, she lumbered over the fallen, savaged bodies sprawled around her. Those who remained standing were pushed out of the way by the shield. Outside the dining room was a foyer. Spacious, with doorways in every direction. Exactly where was she supposed to go?

Laila raced down the staircase, dark hair flying behind her, the silver timepiece banging against her chest. When she spotted Jane and Nicolai, she ground to a halt.

Nicolai snarled at her. He released Jane as if he intended to pound up those steps and attack, but quickly changed his mind. His free arm banded around Jane once more, the other ensuring the shield never wavered. “Mine.”

She was really starting to like that nickname.

The younger woman was breathing heavily, her green eyes glittering with jealousy and hate. “Yours? She isn’t yours. Odette, he means to kill you. Fight him! Use your magic.”

Jane flipped her off.

Shock replaced the anger, but only for a moment. When the princess regained her wits, she shouted, “Someone stop them. Now!” but still the guards could not penetrate the shield. “He’s bespelled Odette.”

“We need magic, princess,” one of them said. “Cast a spell for us. Anything!”

“No magic,” Laila gritted without hesitation and with the briefest flare of panic. Then to Nicolai, she said, “You think I’d bind your vampire strength and abilities, and not bespell you to remain here forever? You might be able to leave the palace, but you’ll be back. That, I promise you.”

Another growl erupted from Nicolai’s throat, so fervent even Jane’s body vibrated.

“You can kill her if you want,” Jane said. “I’ll wait.”

He tightened his hold. “Mine.”

Apparently protecting her was more important than avenging himself. What had changed his mind, she didn’t know, but his decision was a gift, better than a diamond and not something she’d ever regift.

Yes, she really should have kissed him when she’d had the chance. Once they were safe, she’d remedy her mistake.

Laila raised her chin(s), reminding Jane of the queen. Smiling, she drew circles around the center of the timepiece with the tip of her index finger. “Go ahead. Try. Fail.”

“Walk,” Nicolai repeated.

“Where?” Jane asked, tightening her hold on her robe.

He didn’t speak again, but guided her toward one of the doorways. He used his big, strong shoulders to nudge it open, careful not to jar her. Endorphins were swimming so potently through her veins, he could have poured salt into her slashed-up back and she wouldn’t have felt it. Yet.

Silvery moonlight came into view. As did a large expanse of flatland, with robed men and women moving unhurriedly, happily, children dancing around them. Beyond that, Jane saw trees. Mile after mile of white trees, their leaves swaying, dancing together like drunken ghosts. The landscape was somehow familiar to her, as if she’d been here before. How… Why…?

Jane could only gape, struggling to understand—until Nicolai released her, and her thoughts took a nosedive. He was leaving her already? Disappointment rocked her. She’d liked his touch, had wanted more. Perhaps forever, which made her as dumb now as she’d been earlier. Thankfully, he didn’t allow the separation for long. He moved beside her, clasped her hand as strongly as he was able, which wasn’t much considering the damage he’d sustained, and jerked her into the throng.

“This way.”

A child spotted her, and dropped into a bow. Murmurs arose, and everyone else quickly followed suit. Jane’s steps faltered.

“Uh, hi,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

“Princess,” they muttered. Not happily, but with fear.

“Escape…faster…” Nicolai said with a nudge.

“My pleasure,” she muttered, leaping into a sprint.