“That time I fell into that vendor? I spotted it. Made a bargain the seller couldn’t refuse.”
“You are…” Her lips and chin quavered as she fell silent and studied him. It was as if she wanted to memorize him, his face.
When he spotted her eyes going glossy with unshed tears, he tensed. “Hey, what?—”
“My life was so dark before you,” she croaked. “I thought the rest of my existence would be spent in that palace, being whatever they wanted me to be.” She managed a wan smile. “You have infuriated me and angered me. But you’ve also made me laugh. Protected me.”
“You already said that.” Her smiles were getting weaker, and it stressed him. What was going on in that pretty head of hers?
“You protected me, even when it meant Maaz or Nasir might kill you for it,” she said, a particular emphasis that hauled more tears with it. “Nobody has ever done that for me. All my life, I’ve had to live the lie. Be the lie. To protect Ummi. Protect her secret. Be strong when I didn’t have any strength. Lie to friends, hide from friends, avoid having friends. It was so…dark. But with you…” Tears fell silently, gently.
“I come with the elephant—a circle of protection.” As if to emphasize his words, he wrapped his arms around her. “Rest, Leighton. Let me be strong for you. Even if it’s just for now.” Smoothing a hand along her spine, he stayed there with her, their breaths and hearts mingling.
“I’m so glad you came, Owen.”
Food forgotten, they sat on the floor in each other’s arms. Resting. Relaxing, existing. Eventually, they settled in and picked at the food, staying close.
When they finally called it a night, Owen felt more awkward than ever climbing into bed next to her. This woman he could see a future with. That thought startled him as he settled in. Sleeping on his side—which ensured he kept to his half of the bed—wasn’t an option because of the stitches and still-angry flesh sewn together. So he was forced to lie on his back. More than once in the night, Leighton woke him up, saying he was snoring. He grumbled an apology and fell back asleep. Woke with the sudden realization that Dante had said no change in plans. By staying at base camp, they were breaking plan. He wrestled out of bed, his chest burning and angry as he hurried to the door, only to discover the royals were gone.
“What’s wrong?” Leighton asked, coming upright in the bed.
“We…he said no change in plans.”
She seemed suddenly awake, wary.
“By staying…”
She groaned. “We changed plans.” She climbed out of bed. “Should we hurry?—”
“It’s too late. They’re gone.” He scratched a hand over the back of his thick skull. “We should try to stay in the open, stay visible in case they come here.” By dawn, he was a wreck.
They remained at the base camp, wandered out to the mess tent for lunch, watched as the workers prepped for the bonfire. The anticipation that Omen might come hung over them all day, over him. He tried to keep watch. Scanned the terrain for any sign of Rawlins or the others. But night came and the royals returned without incident. They joined the others for the bonfire, not for the camaraderie, but for the visibility.
“Mr. Apollo,” Maaz called from the other side. “Will you join us tomorrow? Both of you?”
Was there an insistence to his words? Or was that Owen’s imagination? Either way, sitting here wouldn’t be good. “Yeah. I think so.”
One more day, then the Serengeti.
Which meant tomorrow had to be the day Omen would interdict. The anticipation forbade him from sleeping that night. Nerves buzzed through him the next morning as he checked the stitches for any sign of infection. Cursed when he saw the angry welts around the ones on his jaw. Sweating yesterday hadn’t helped. He’d take antibiotics. If he had any. But he’d traded them for the necklace. The one that had seemed to tip the tide between them. He didn’t want to lose that. Or her.
God, help me, but I think I’m falling in love with her.
There was this strange symmetry to life when she looked at him, like everything was aligning.
Hours in the heat and sun aggravated his injuries and mood. Tension radiated through every limb because he expected both to get ambushed and for Omen to interdict. Before he knew it, his jaw and neck were on fire. Maybe from the heat and sweat slipping into the stitched flesh, but the very real possibility existed that it was from the tension of clenching his teeth as he searched for the team.
It’s your own stupid fault for losing the comms. For not telling Dante when he had a chance.
A herd of zebras came bolting around them, darting to a water source, he guessed. Or maybe away from a predator.
Huh. Had Mufasa come to finish the job?
Or… His gaze snapped in the direction of the zebras. Was Omen out there? He shifted forward in his seat, peering around the side of the doorless vehicle to get a better view. Squinted through the pluming dust blocking his view. Hand fisted, he clenched his jaw, frustrated.
Where were they? What was taking them so long?
A gentle hand on his drew his gaze. Leighton’s expression was thick with concern. Then with wariness, silently asking if he saw them. He gave a quick shake of his head.
