💕The energy blast—a hot explosion—hit her with raw, brute force, knocking the air out of her lungs. Adanya tumbled on the shiny floor, in a heap of tangled limbs.

Damn, he’s powerful.

“Guess you have emotions after all. Surprising and”—Adanya grinned, realizing she had just touched on a raw nerve—“contrary to popular belief.”

“What would you know of me?”

Collecting herself and the swords off the floor, she rose to her full height, determined to take advantage of the unexpected revelation.

“More than you think.” Cautious, Adanya reactivated her swords, and retreated.

From the moment she had entered the throne room, Adanya had sensed his power in every atom in the air—dark, thick, and suffocating. For the first time, she realized her brother might’ve been right. Maybe she wasn’t ready to fight him.

“For example, I truly believe you should die.” The tips of her swords pointed to his chest.

She couldn’t let him see her weakness. Hiding fear behind snark and sarcasm was something she’d inherited from her mother. Each insult, each remark, each word, was meant to distract him.

“We all die at some point. But today’s not my day.” Xarrix took a couple of slow steps toward her, as if he had all the time in the world.

“I would love to wait until midnight and make it be tomorrow, so you can die, but I’m on a tight schedule. It’ll have to be today.” Adanya rotated her wrists, the swords drawing two circles in the air.

Desire for retribution fought with inexplicable attraction, like day and night wrestled at twilight.

Why couldn’t she ignore his deep, raspy voice tingling inside each bone in her body every time he spoke? She should only hear her mind, screaming for justice.

And why in the stars did she stare at the uncovered side of his face, noting the color of his eye, bluer than the summer sky in her home world of Simran?

Damn it, I need to focus.

Durasteen poured from the hilt in his right hand. Inch by inch, it grew into a shiny, polished wide blade, reflecting the light. Unlike hers, the edges emitted gold lightning, almost luxurious if it weren’t for its deadly intent.

Warning bells rang in her mind, advising retreat. Instead, Adanya attacked.

Blades danced and clashed. Gold and green lightning sizzled against each other. Bright sparks, like fireworks, flew in all directions.

Not even her special ability, enhanced speed, helped her land a single blow. She changed angles, hit with the right sword when she was supposed to strike with the left. Even the couple of acrobatic jumps and twists she threw in didn’t seem to surprise him.

Every single time, his sword parried, but never attacked.

Damn it. Is he really invincible? Adanya retreated again.

“Are you sure you’re the mighty Overlord Xarrix Kreider and not some lousy decoy?” She circled Xarrix.

“What kind of question is that?” One step after another, he walked around her, like two cats playing to catch each other’s tail.

“Well, you sure fight like a princess.” Adanya reverted to her sharp tongue since the fighting abilities didn’t appear to be enough. “You haven’t attacked once.” She launched a new assault.

A deep growl ripped from his throat. With a quick reaction, his sword blocked hers, again.

“Enough of this nonsense.” Xarrix’s voice thundered inside the throne room.

Another blast of golden energy, like a wave of death, struck her, knocking the swords from her hands.

Airborne, the weapons hit the wall behind her.

Back against the white marble, chills traveled her spine.

How did I allow him to corner me, leaving me with no advance or retreat?

Glancing toward the weapons, now laying on the floor, Adanya knew he had her at a disadvantage, cut off from her defense. Panic accelerated the beats of her heart.

His sword retracted, and Xarrix placed it on his belt, then grabbed her wrists.

“I’ve been patient enough.” Soft hydraulic sounds came from the artificial limb lifting her hands above her head. “Your name. Now.”

Immobilized between the cold stone and his hard frame, Adanya squirmed.

“Let go.” Overpowered, her scrambled thoughts tried to make sense of all the conflicting emotions flooding her mind.

She wanted him to be disgusting, but instead, his fresh scent tickled her nostrils. The dewy aroma reminded her of the perpetual snow on top of the mountains back home.

His body pressed against hers, the heat and power exuding from him, offered a contrast to the surrounding air.

“Your name.” His growl had a soft, almost soothing quality to it.

In the struggle to free herself from his hold, a few strands of hair rebelled, slipped from the ponytail and covered part of her face.

Xarrix’s fingers gently touched her cheek and brushed away the black locks, elevating her pulse in spikes of loud drumming.

Adanya blamed the racing heart beats on the adrenaline excess caused by the fight. She couldn’t be attracted to a monster like him.

“My name is not important.” She squirmed, trying to free herself. “You might as well kill me.”

Head tilted to the side, Xarrix stared at her. Fine wrinkles marked the corner of his eye.

Is he smiling? What in the stars?

“I’m not sure if I want to kill or kiss you.” A strong surge of lust radiated from his tensed and hardened physique.

Stunned by the revelation of the new twist of the encounter, Adanya reverted to her old tactics.

“Eww. Do you even have lips behind that mask?”

His thumb glided over the corner of her mouth. “Would you like to find out?” He followed an invisible, burning line down her neck, stopping at the collarbone.

Her breath hitched. “No thanks. I’ll take the kill, please.”

“So, you do have manners. Guess you’re more than a mindless assassin.”

Adanya had always managed to focus in dangerous situations, so why faulter now? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Ever since she was a child, her father had taught her one can only be as strong as his or her mind. But what did her mind want at this moment?

I want him dead. At any price.

“Tell me your name.” Xarrix cupped her chin in his hand, the touch tender.

Adanya reopened her eyes. A hypnotic numbness covered her, like a soft, warm blanket. Her mind fogged, as if his stare could influence her decisions.

Adanya parted her lips, but the word on the tip of her tongue, eluded her. She stood, blank, trying to remember her name.

A wave of energy swished by, blowing her rogue strands of hair.

The man holding her hostage released her, rose a few inches off the floor, and then flew backward a few yards.

“Shh. Let’s go,” a familiar voice, belonging to her cousin, Radox, whispered in her ear.

Under the protection of his stealth shield, Adanya grabbed the hilts of her swords off the floor and followed him outside the throne room.💕