Page 100
Story: The Siren
And most wonderful of all was that Ashburn didn’t collapse. Her kiss was meant for him, reserved for him. For him alone.
Someone called her name, a voice like a drowning man adrift in the ocean. Lucienne sensed a deep shadow, and in its center was a newly conscious mind that contained great pain. A beating heart bled amid broken pieces. Its anguish was so enormous and bottomless that it shot to her like arrows of ice.
Vladimir, bloody, rose in time to see the passionate kiss.
The world swirled back to Lucienne.
“Vlad?” Her joy soared. Her prince was alive! Then shame and guilt bombarded her like a rain shower, drenching her cold and wet. How was it possible for her to forget about Vladimir, Kian, and her men lying dead and injured in the middle of the battlefield while losing herself in Ashburn’s smoldering kiss?
Mortified, Lucienne touched the bottom of her swollen lip and wrenched away from Ashburn with the heat of passion still coursing through her veins.
Vladimir looked at her as if she had just eaten his heart. The light in his hazel eyes went out completely. They looked as dead as Seraphen’s. Vladimir averted his lifeless gaze from Lucienne as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her, but reserved one last glance of pure hatred for Ashburn, before stumbling away.
Worse than the kiss of betrayal was learning the brutal fact that she could kiss another man without injuring him. “Vlad, I . . . I’m sorry.” The words tore out of Lucienne’s burning throat. Her hands reaching out, she moved toward him. “I can . . . explain.”
Vladimir held his bleeding hand in the air as if warding off the fiend from hell and fled from her. New hurt sailed to Lucienne’s eyes. She quickened her pace, going after Vladimir, but then, stirring arose around her—groans of pain and angry curses. Some of the survivors had gained consciousness and struggled to get up. This wasn’t the time to chase after Vladimir and beg him to listen, to forgive her. The wounded warriors needed her now. Some managed to stand and stagger toward her, still endeavoring to protect her. Some lay dead; others dying.
Lucienne watched Vladimir head toward the smoke-covered mountain and decided it would be best to try to talk to him later. It’d be a long conversation.She turned to Ashburn, who didn’t look sorry at all. He watched her watching Vladimir with a grim expression, then averted his dusky gray eyes to Seraphen. Unable to bear looking at his protector’s corpse either, he rested his eyes upon the mountains.
Lucienne bit her lip. She would not let boy trouble get in the way of caring for her warriors. She dropped to Duncan’s side to check on him. “Reinforcements are coming,” she said, removing his impact vest to help him breathe easier. “I order you to hang in there!”
“As long as it takes!” Duncan’s eyes glazed over Lucienne’s. “Is Orlando . . . really gone?”
“And Cam, too. And others,” Lucienne said remorsefully, turning away as tears blurred her sight.
“Vladimir?” Duncan asked.
“He is . . .” Lucienne said as blocks of ice submerged her heart. “He’s okay.” She gently squeezed the warrior’s uninjured hand. “I’ll come back after I’ve checked on the others.”
Ashburn drew near Lucienne. “I have a medical databank inside me. I can help.”
“If you want to help, find Kian for me,” Lucienne said. “Do you have his memory?” She grabbed Ashburn’s sleeve in desperation.
“He’s coming to you.” Ashburn pointed at a mountain. Lucienne followed the line of his finger and saw Kian, tattered and bloody, limping down the mountain.
“Kian!” Lucienne choked, breaking into a dead run toward him. Kian dragged himself down the mountain trail as fast as he could manage.
An approaching aircraft boomed in the mountains. A second later, a fighter emerged. Lucienne stopped in her tracks. “It’s a MiG-25, one of the fastest fighter planes in the world,” she whispered, and her face went white. “But it’s not ours. How does it know about us here? And how could it have gotten here so quickly?” She waved at the warriors frantically. “Take cover!”
“It came for Prince Vladimir,” Ashburn called. “He’s leaving you.”
Of course, Vladimir’s thoughts had turned to memories, and Ashburn had read them. Blood drained from Lucienne’s face. She looked around for Vladimir and finally spotted him, a small figure now, at the far end of the plain. Lucienne raced toward him, but her legs weren’t fast enough to get to him before the MiG-25 did.
“Vlad, no! Wait! Vladimir Blazek, you can’t! You can’t just leave!” Lucienne screamed, willing her legs to move faster. Vladimir turned to look at her, but he was too far away for her to see his expression. Helplessly, she watched him climb into the co-pilot’s seat.
“Vlad, please don’t. Don’t leave me behind!” Lucienne begged. She’d do anything to make him stay. She was so sorry for what she had done to him. She wanted to tell him that she’d wronged him greatly and would make up to him. The fighter’s metal canopy sealed shut. The silvery bird took off and vanished from view.
Lucienne crumpled to the ground, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders heaving as she sobbed in utter heartbreak. The world before her now was formlessly bleak. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but Kian was at her side, pulling her into his arms, stroking her hair, as she wept.
“Shush, let him go,” Kian coaxed. “He needs some space.”
“He can have his space in Sphinxes.”
“He cannot, not after he saw—”
Lucienne then realized Kian had also seen her and Ashburn kissing from the mountain. “I’ll get him back.” She jerked away from Kian, looking up at him, clench-jawed. “We never leave a soldier behind!”
“That’s a mission for another day, kid,” Kian said.
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