Chapter 34 Love Won’t Save You Now
Love Won’t Save You Now
“We’re all set to go, Taliyah,” Nikhail addressed the vampire as he rounded the corner from the tunnel into the bunker, wiping his hands on the sides of his pants.
He assumed River was talking with her, since she hadn’t returned from the bathroom.
“We’ll just prepare the prisoner for transport and—”
A litany of curses tumbled from his lips. His heart lurched. His gun was in his hands before he formed the conscious thought to unholster it.
A series of thoughts raced through his mind, one after the other.
Taliyah was dead.
Fuck.
Harringdale had broken free.
And River...
Where was she?
His magic raged in his veins, and his lungs refused to draw breath.
Nikhail searched the bloody space for a sign that his water fae was still here, still alive. Because if she was gone…
If he had to tell Ryker that she’d...
No.
He couldn’t even think the words, couldn’t fathom a world where River was dead and he remained alive and breathing.
Nikhail had endured many things in his life, but that...
He wouldn’t be able to survive that.
He didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have River in it.
Then Nikhail heard it. A quiet whimper that sliced through his panic and caught his attention. His magic slammed against his veins.
The sound was swiftly followed by a low growl that had Nikhail’s blood chilling.
Alive.
Thank all the gods, River was still alive.
Relief flooded Nikhail’s body, but it was quickly cut short as he rounded the corner that led to the bathroom. He skidded to a stop and shouted for help. Or at least, he thought he did.
He wasn’t sure, because he couldn’t hear anything over the rushing, roaring sound in his ears.
Harringdale, that motherfucking bastard, was holding River against his chest. His hands were partially shifted, and his claws…
Obsidian Sands save him, but the rebel leader’s gods-damned claws were digging into River’s skin. Crimson trailed down River’s cheek and throat, a testament to the harm that Harringdale had already inflicted upon her.
Nikhail’s chest heaved, and his free hand formed a fist.
Fuck the Chancellor and her gods-damned order to keep Harringdale alive. Nikhail should’ve killed him the moment they found him.
Now Taliyah was dead, Indira was injured, and River...
His lungs tightened. He clenched his jaw so hard that his tooth cracked. And that tug within him, the one that had been drawing him to River from the first moment they met, was so strong it nearly yanked him to his knees.
River’s lovely brown eyes were locked on to his, full of so much emotion, Nikhail could barely stand to look at them. She was looking at him imploringly, as if she was trying to tell him something important.
Nikhail had never wished to be able to read minds more than at that moment. Perhaps, if he could, he would know what she was trying to tell him. Perhaps he could’ve prevented this entire situation from unfolding.
But it was too late for thoughts like that.
Nikhail heard footsteps behind him.
“Stop,” Harringdale growled.
The word seemed to boom through the bunker.
“Don’t come any closer,” the rebel leader said. “Or I’ll rip out her pretty throat and paint the walls with her blood.”
There was no doubt in Nikhail’s mind that the man would follow through on his threats. And it was a threat, because even fae, with their ability to rapidly heal, couldn’t survive an injury like that.
How could he have ever thought that Harringdale didn’t look imposing? He never should’ve left him with only one guard, even while sedated.
This was all his fault.
Guilt ate away at Nikhail, but he shoved it aside for now. There would be a time for those feelings, but this wasn’t it. River was still alive, and she needed him.
Nikhail held up his hand. An order to stand down.
Whoever was behind him obeyed instantly, halting their approach. Nikhail didn’t dare divert his attention from Harringdale even for a moment to see who it was. It didn’t matter. The only person who mattered was River.
“What do you want?” Nikhail asked.
He was surprised that his voice was steady. Firm, despite the terror coursing through him.
Harringdale smirked. “Freedom, of course.”
As if he thought that was in the cards for him. Yes, the Chancellor wanted Harringdale alive, but she would never allow him to go free.
“Let her go,” Nikhail said in response.
“And lose my only bargaining chip?” Harringdale dug his claws deeper into River’s skin. “Never.”
River whimpered, and the sound was a knife, piercing Nikhail’s heart.
A possessive, warning growl rumbled through Nikhail before he could stop it. The sound, a primal fae one that came from the depths of his soul, echoed through the space.
“Oh, my gods.” Harringdale glanced between Nikhail and River. Understanding bloomed in his eyes as a slow, sinister smile spread across his face. “You two are together, aren’t you?”
Nikhail didn’t answer. What good would it do?
“What a scandal.” Harringdale gasped mockingly. “I didn’t think you had this in you, River. The daughter of a Representative, sharing her bed with a common soldier? I wonder what the Representative of the Fae thinks of this?” He forced River’s chin up and peered at her, searching.
Nikhail’s magic thrashed in his veins, and every part of him wanted to scream. He’d never felt so helpless.
He kept sorting through various scenarios in his mind, trying to figure out how he could free River from Harrington’s grasp, but every scenario resulted in River’s neck being torn to shreds before he could save her.
Whatever the rebel leader saw on River’s face had him smirking.
“Oh, I see,” Harringdale said with a tinge of amusement. “She doesn’t know.”
“Release the water fae,” Nikhail repeated, his voice stern.
“Why, so you can put a bullet in my skull? You must think me a fool. I will do no such thing.” The bear shifter jerked his chin towards Nikhail.
“Get one of your men to call the Chancellor. Inform her of the situation. Tell her I will be killing Tertia Waterborn’s only daughter on the spot if she doesn’t authorize my immediate release. ”
“There’s no signal down here,” Nikhail said, without removing his gaze from the rebel leader. “We can’t call anyone.”
Harringdale snarled. “Figure it out, or she dies right now.”
Fuck.
Nikhail called for Therian, his voice hoarse as ice sluiced through his veins. The dragon shifter was at his side a moment later.
“What do you want me to do?” Therian asked.
“Get to the surface and call the Chancellor,” Nikhail said. “Let her know what’s going on.”
It wouldn’t do any good, but if playing along would give him more time to save River, then that’s what he would do.
Therian inclined his head and disappeared from view.
“Release River. She didn’t do anything to you.” Nikhail was pleading with the man, but he didn’t care. He’d do anything, say anything, to get River out of this situation. “Your quarrel is not with her.”
The moment the words were out of Nikhail’s mouth, he knew they were the wrong ones.
“The fuck it’s not. She is a Waterborn. Modern royalty, for all intents and purposes. She, and everyone like her, live like kings and queens while the rest of us suffer and die!” Harringdale snarled.
“And for what? So the rich can remain in power?” he sneered. “It’s disgusting. She may not have written the laws that bred inequality in this country, but she has undoubtedly benefited from them.”
Harringdale’s grip shifted. He released River’s mouth, one hand fisting her hair and pulling her chin up to look at him. His other hand, which was clutching her fingers, holding them against her chest, moved. His claws were angled right over her heart, the threat clear.
He snarled, “Isn’t that right, Princess?”
Hearing this man use the same nickname Nikhail used for River was wrong on so many levels. Fury and fear consumed every part of Nikhail, and he could barely remember what it felt like to be calm.
His military training, which until this point had been second nature, was escaping him.
All he could think about, all he could focus on, was River.
Nothing else mattered. Not his orders, not the people behind him, not even the Chancellor, though she would certainly have something to say about this.
River’s gaze met his, and he could barely breathe.
“It’s okay, Nik,” she said quietly.
How could she say that? This was as far from okay as things could get.
“No, it isn’t.” Less than a dozen feet separated him from the woman he loved, yet Nikhail knew that if he moved, bargaining chip or not, Harringdale would rip River’s beating heart out of her chest.
“Yes, it is.” Her voice was soft, and those eyes that he loved so much, the ones that had haunted him for years, implored him to understand something.
He had no idea what she was trying to convey.
Was River asking him to stand by and watch as Harringdale took her life? Because fuck that. He refused to be a bystander to River’s death.
“I love you, Nikhail,” she said, her gaze never wavering. “No matter what happens, remember that. Falling in love with you is the best thing I’ve ever done.”
No.
No.
That sounded far too much like a goodbye for Nikhail’s liking. And that was gods-damned unacceptable. He and River had worked way too hard and had overcome far too many obstacles and waded through too much darkness for things to end like this.
Someone behind him sucked in a breath.
Harringdale’s face twisted into a sneer. “Love. What a fucking joke.” The rebel leader adjusted his hold once again, his fingers digging further into River’s chest, and she gasped. “Love won’t save you now, little girl. Nothing will, except for the Chancellor.”
Despite being restrained, River’s fingers fluttered against her chest. The movement was nearly imperceptible, and if Nikhail hadn’t spent years watching River and memorizing her every movement, he might’ve missed it.
But he didn’t.
It was then that Nikhail realized that maybe River wasn’t saying goodbye. Maybe she hadn’t given up.
Maybe…
Her fingers moved again. Twisted.
This time, Harringdale noticed. A low growl ripped from his chest. “What are you…”
His words ended in a watery gurgle. His eyes bulged, and he drew in a gasping breath. Or he would’ve, if water hadn’t come pouring out of his mouth, ears, and nose. It streamed out of him, accompanied by a choked scream.
Someone behind Nikhail swore. Another muttered about the Waterborns and their power.
Nikhail couldn’t move or reply. He was frozen, entranced by the deadly scene unfolding in front of him.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
Harringdale was choking on water. Drowning? It certainly seemed that way.
He gurgled and gasped as even more water poured out of his every orifice.
The rebel removed his hand from River’s hair to claw at his own throat in a desperate effort to breathe. At the same time, River shoved his other hand away from her.
There was a sickening rip as the shifter’s claws tore through the fabric of River’s shirt and the skin beneath. Blood bloomed on her chest, but River didn’t seem to notice. She flung herself away from the rebel leader, landing on her back.
Her chest heaved as she extended her arm.
A wall of water gushed from her outstretched hand, slamming into the bear shifter. Pinning him against the wall.
The moment River was out of harm’s way, Nikhail was moving. People were shouting, but he couldn’t hear their words. Nikhail raced towards River, flinging his own magic towards Harringdale. Adding his power to River’s.
Air and water mingled, a deadly tempest of their own making. The force of their combined power slammed into Harringdale. One moment, the shifter was clawing at his throat, making a mangled mess of himself as blood and water coated him. The next, he was thrown back. His head slammed into the wall.
There came a sickening crack, and then, Harringdale collapsed. Blood pooled behind his head.
And…
He was gone.
Dead, just like that.
Chancellor Rose was going to be angry. Furious, even. Nikhail didn’t fucking care, though. Let her be angry. At least River was alive.
He spared a glance at Harringdale’s body. His mouth was open in a silent scream, and water still trickled from his lips. Drowning on land didn’t seem like a gentle way to die, but Nikhail could not find one ounce of grief or shame for Harringdale inside himself.
Nikhail kneeled in front of River, who was on her back, chest heaving as she drew in gasping breath after gasping breath.
“Never again,” he murmured, taking her hand.
She blinked up at him. “What?”
“Don’t you ever say goodbye to me again,” Nikhail breathed.
It struck him then, just how close he’d come to losing River for good. Thank the gods, she’d had access to her magic. He didn’t even know how she’d done it—conjured a storm inside Harringdale’s body, hadn’t even known that was possible—but honestly, he didn’t care.
Understanding flooded River’s gaze. “Okay,” she murmured. “No more goodbyes.”
“Never,” he said. “Promise me.”
They still had a lot to unpack, and there would undoubtedly be fallout from today’s events, but he found he didn’t care about any of that.
River’s lips crept up into the smallest smile. “I promise.”
He’d never heard a better sound.