Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
sweat covering his body, he was freezing. He opened the door to his house, blood
smearing over the white controls.
He pulled his helmet free and let it fall from his numbed hands. The lorinas ran forward,
confused by the smell of blood. He had to get help. He had to get back to Kiara.
Nykyrian took a step forward and fell to his knees.
He tried to rise, but pain kept him still. He had to move, he had to. His last conscious
thought was of a tiny dancer who had promised never to leave him.
Twelve
"The contract has been repealed!"
Kiara barely heard the jubilant shout of her best friend, Tiyana. Instead, she stared at the
performance calendar in her lap, unable to believe six weeks had passed since she saw
Nykyrian killed.
Over and over her mind replayed the scene, the sounds, the pain.
"Kiara, didn't you hear me?" Tiyana asked, patting the arm of the chair Kiara sat in. "You can return to the theatre!"
"I heard you," she replied with a wistful sigh.
Tiyana calmed down and took a seat in the identical, white, wrought-iron chair across
from her.
Kiara used to love sitting in the well-manicured garden behind her father's house, the
smell of all the flowers blooming around her, sunlight warming her skin, not doing
anything except breathing the sweet air, gossiping with Tiyana. But not anymore. Now it
all seemed boring, unfulfilling.
Kiara saw Tiyana look up over Kiara's shoulder and shake her pretty blond head, and by that action she knew her father must be standing behind her. She didn't bother to look.
She really couldn't care less where her father was.
"Tiyana," he said roughly. "Could you excuse us for a moment?"
"Sure, Commander." She stood and touched Kiara's hand. "I'll be back in a minute. Do you want anything?"
Kiara shook her head, stifling a sob. The only thing she wanted was her husband and
nothing could get Nykyrian back for her. With a trembling breath, Kiara looked away
from her father as he took Tiyana's chair.
"Angel."
"Don't call me that!" she snapped, unable to ever forgive him for what he had done, and all the things he had said to her since
that
day.
He took a deep breath and extended a long, manila folder to her. "I got your medical
report back. I wish to God I could kill all those bastards for what they did to you!"
Kiara narrowed her eyes, wanting to claw his eyes out for the statement. She refused to
take the folder from his hand. She didn't want anything from him. Ever.
Her father thought she had been raped by all of the OMG men and no matter how much
she tried to explain what had happened between her and Nykyrian, her father kept saying
she had been brainwashed.
Why wouldn't he listen to her? How many times had she tried to tell him no one did
anything to her she didn't want done?
"You're pregnant," her father said at last, his voice bitter.
Kiara's mouth opened and for the first time in weeks, she felt like laughing.
"The doctor said he can terminate the pregnancy without any problems."
"He will not!" she snapped, coming to her feet.
Tiarun stood, his face dark. "Be reasonable. A child will end your career. Is that what you want?" he asked, grabbing her arm and giving her a sharp shake. "Why would you want
to give up your life because of some bastard seed?"
Kiara trembled in rage and jerked her arm free of his grasp. Never in her life had she
wanted to strike her father, but at the moment she doubted anything else would give her
more satisfaction. "It was my husband you killed. My baby is not a bastard! It's all I have left, all I ..." Her words broke off into a sob and she ran from the garden.
When she got to her room, she threw herself across her bed and sobbed into her pillows.
All she wanted was to go back to their last day together. To touch Nykyrian one more
time. Instead, she touched her stomach where the last piece of him flourished. She would
give their baby all the love she wanted to give to Nykyrian, all the love Nykyrian had
been denied his entire life.
* * *
"Are you going to return to the theatre?"
Kiara stopped mid stride on the busy street of shops and faced Tiyana. "I've told you a
thousand times I'm through dancing."
"But why?" she insisted in a voice that made Kiara want to shake her.
Kiara sighed, running her hand over her flat belly, longing for the day when she would
see proof of her baby. "There are other things more important to me now."
"Such as?"
She stiffened. "My baby for one."
"You can dance for a few more months, you know." Tiyana grabbed her arm and started
walking down the street again. "You really should rethink all this. My God, I'd sell my
soul for your fame."
Kiara opened her mouth to reply she would sell her soul to have Nykyrian back, but as
she looked up, she saw Darling eating lunch inside the cafe they were passing. Shock
riveted her to the sidewalk.
Without another word to Tiyana, she pulled her arm free and doubled back, a strange
happy thrill rushing through her. Kiara entered the cafe, and hesitated. She blinked, still
not sure her eyes were working.
"Darling?" she asked, nearing his table.
Darling looked up, startled. "Kiara?" he said, a smile spreading across his face as he stood. "I've been wondering what happened to you!"
Kiara wrapped her arms around him, bursting with happiness at finally seeing one of
Nykyrian's friends again. "I wanted to see you, but I didn't know how to get in touch with any of you! What are you doing here?"
Darling smiled and gave her a tight squeeze. "Waiting on Caillen."
"Kiara?"
Kiara turned around and beamed a smile at Tiyana. "Tiyana, this is my friend, Darling."
They shook hands and Darling pulled a chair out for her. "It's really good to see you.
After the way Nykyrian's been lately, I had started to think— "
"What?" Kiara gasped, the blood fleeing her face as cold dread crept along her spine. It couldn't be possible. Surely she hadn't heard him correctly.
Darling looked at her and his face turned the shade of his hair.
"Nykyrian's alive?" Kiara asked, half relieved and half enraged.
"I wasn't supposed to let that slip," Darling murmured.
Kiara's heart lurched. She couldn't believe it. No, it wasn't true. If Nykyrian lived, he
would have come for her. "I saw him killed," she insisted, remembering the sight of
Nykyrian recoiling from the blasts, of his still body lying in blood, the sound of the
soldier's voice claiming he was dead.
Darling licked his lips and glanced at Tiyana. "He was severely wounded, but a couple of
OMG members helped him get home."
Kiara gripped the edge of the table with trembling hands, her thoughts tumbling through
her mind. Nykyrian was alive and he didn't want her. All this time, she had told herself he
loved her, yet he hadn't even bothered to tell her he was alive!
She ground her teeth together in rage. "I see," she said at last, her voice as icy as the bitter feeling consuming her.
She stood and extended her hand to Darling. "It was nice seeing you today. I wish I could spend more time with you, but I'm afraid I have to call my manager and accept a job."
Kiara sensed Tiyana's confusion as Kiara rushed out of the cafe and back into the
crowded street, Tiyana hot on her heels.
"What gives?" Tiyana asked, glancing back in the direction of the cafe. "Who was that guy?"
Kiara seethed. "He's no one." She stormed off through the crowd, wishing she could see Nykyrian again so she could shoot him herself! "I can't believe I wasted my time and
effort! My career!"
"What?"
Kiara glared at Tiyana. "Nothing. I'm fine and I'm coming out of retirement!"
* * *
Nykyrian stroked Ulf's soft belly while he watched a taped performance of one of Kiara's
ballets. His heart was heavy. He knew he should go after her—needed to go after her, he
corrected himself— but he couldn't.
And if being without Kiara wasn't hell enough, Rachol was missing, too. His flat had
been torn apart and no one had any clue who had done it. They had been searching for
weeks, but no one could find a trace to Rachol's whereabouts.
Pain gripped him and Nykyrian tossed back another gulp of
grenna
. He was alone just
like he had always wanted to be. But he had never guessed just how painful true solitude
was. He sighed in weary frustration. Kiara was performing tonight on Gouran.
A sliver of satisfaction crept over him. His threats had worked. Nemesis had been able to
intimidate the Probekeins enough to where they revoked their contract. Kiara had her life
back. A life that didn't need or deserve him.
There was so much he wished he could tell Kiara. If he could just touch her body one last
time . . .
Aw hell, what did it matter? He had spent his whole life wishing for what could've been.
As Rachol would say if he were here, Nykyrian had two choices. He could either
continue to wallow in his useless self-pity or he could try to see Kiara. Neither option
seemed promising at the moment. Sighing again, Nykyrian went to refill his glass.
* * *
Lights flashed in Kiara's face, blinding her. She turned her head away and made a few
quotable responses to the reporters as she pried her way between them to her dressing
room.
After her brief, mysterious disappearance, she seemed to be the hottest topic in the media.
Well let them gossip. What did she care anyway? Just wait until they learned about her
baby, then they really would swarm her for juicy tidbits.
With a weary sigh, she fell into her room and closed the door against the overzealous
reporters. Leaning against the door, she took several calming breaths.
She wondered how she had ever enjoyed dancing, and if she would ever enjoy it again.
All the back-biting politics and eager young dancers out to bring a performer down, all
the two-faced promoters who wanted to make a
sola
with one hand and shove the other down her dress. She was tired of it.
Pushing herself away from the door, she grabbed a towel from her dressing table and
wiped the perspiration from her brow.
"Kiara?"
She froze, knowing the voice that continued to haunt her dreams. Nykyrian stepped out of
the shadows. She stared at him, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the tenseness
around his lips. Stubble lined his handsome face as if he hadn't shaved in several days.
Despite her anger and pain, her body throbbed with desire. How could she still want to
make love to him after what he had done to her? He had abandoned her and their baby
without so much as a good-bye!
"What do you want?" she snapped.
He reached his hand out to touch her, then drew it back. "I wanted to explain."
She turned away and jerked the zipper down the back of her costume, cursing as it caught
in her hair and ripped out several strands. "I don't want to hear it!" she snarled, facing him. "You let me think you were dead!"
As expected, his face was impassive.
Tears coursed down Kiara's cheeks at the memory of his supposed death, and her temper
flamed even higher. "I thought you were dead because of me! How could you do such a
thing?"
He looked away and brushed his hand through his hair. "Don't you think I suffered?" His voice was a faint, impartial whisper that barely reached her. "I almost did die."
"I wished to God you had!"
His jaw twitched, but he showed no other reaction. Without a word, he disappeared
through the open doors of the balcony. Kiara told herself she was glad he was gone. She
didn't want to see him after what he had done. He had left
her.
Her heart didn't listen.
"Nykyrian!" she called, running to the balcony, but it was too late.
The street below was as empty as her soul, her life.
A light breeze rippled through her hair while she stood there trying to find him,
reminding her of gentle fingers that used to play there instead.
* * *
Kiara took a deep breath, relieved to finally be finished with the talk-show interview. Her
father and Tiyana walked down the station's glaring white hallway by her side, chatting
away about the success of her return to the theatre, their feet tapping a solemn rhythm on
the gray porcelain floor.
Kiara rubbed the chills from her arms. What she wouldn't give to go back to the solitude
and peace she had at Nykyrian's. She missed making love to him with the stars twinkling
over them.
"Are you all right?" her father asked, his voice warm in concern.
Her father had become much more understanding in the last few weeks, but he still
refused to call the baby anything more personal than "it." Kiara had ceased to be angry with her father. Now her anger stayed focused on another source, one who had gorgeous
blond hair and dimples, one she would really like to kill.
"Just tired," she said, shifting her cloak around her shoulders.
Kiara caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned just in time to see the
blaster level at her chest. A scream rippled up through her lungs as her father pushed her
out of the way. Pain, intense and throbbing, burst across her arm as she fell on the floor.
More shots fired, but she couldn't tell what was going on from her position under her
father. Shouts filled the hallway and someone ran past her.
"Kiara?"