Miley tried to still the tremors that racked her body but was having little luck. Ever since this whole crazy thing had started, she had been afraid for the people she cared about. Tariq's assurance he would harm the ones she loved stayed heavily in her thoughts. However, she never truly feared for her own safety.

Until now.

Sitting on the crate, looking up into the stony glare of Tariq Hoxha, she swallowed and locked her fingers onto the edge of the box. Behind her, Loran stood with his meaty hands pressed hard on her shoulders, keeping her firmly in place. Sandwiched between the two, she felt small, insignificant and very much alone. The shed they had taken her to was one of the larger ones on their property. It was made of metal with a flat roof, double door, and bare, dirt floor. Several barrels lined the walls on two sides with a smattering of crates and boxes scattered around. The noxious smell of rotten eggs made her stomach churn, and she bit back the urge to vomit.

"I don't believe you," Tariq growled at her. Taking a fat cigar out of his pocket and thrust it between his teeth. "Try again."

Miley licked her lips and took a calming breath. They had been through this several times already, but he kept asking the same questions - who were the newcomers and why was there a big meeting at the McMillans last night?

"I've already told you a dozen times. Ryker McMillan is engaged to a Hollywood celebrity. They're in town to start planning their wedding. She doesn't travel anywhere without her bodyguards and entourage. They had a little get-together, and I was invited. That's all."

"Lies!" Tariq pulled the cigar from his mouth and thrust the soggy end at her. "You insist on treating me as if I were stupid." He motioned to his side. "Bring him," he called out then took a step back.

The door of the storage room opened. Miley peered into dimness as something moved. She drew back in surprise as two of Loran's men threw a third to the hard-packed ground at her feet. She gasped as the man fell over on his side exposing a face that looked like ground hamburger. One eye was swollen shut and blood poured from his cracked lips and a broken nose. His good eye opened and zeroed on her. "Miley," he croaked.

"Drake?" Dear Lord, that was Rissa's fiancé. She lurched toward him to try and help but was held back by Loran's grasp on her shoulders.

Tariq motioned toward him. "Drake has told me neither you nor the one they call Cowboy are friends of the McMillans. He told me if there was a party, others who are much closer would have been invited." He pulled his hand back and backhanded her hard sending her head to the left as lights exploded behind her eyes. "Tell me who they are!" he snarled.

Pain erupted through her face, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. Instead, she tamped down the panic that seared her nerves and faced him again. She had to keep it together, not fall apart if she wanted to get out of this. Alcide would find her; she just had to give him time. Raising her fingers to her throbbing lip, she pulled them away wet with blood. Meeting his eyes, she answered with a firm tone. "I don't know why they invited me. I don't know why they invited anyone." She let out an exasperated huff and grimaced. "I don't know!"

Tariq's hand slammed into her other cheek. Fresh pain erupted from her face, and she fought the urge to succumb to the darkness and pass out. Instead, she concentrated on Drake moaning at her feet. Even though she was only an animal doctor, she could hear the wheezing sound of his breaths and figured he most likely had a broken rib. "Please? Let me help him," she begged.

Tariq motioned again, and one of the men standing behind him surged forward. Pulling his foot back, he slammed it into Drake's side eliciting a scream of agony from him. Blood bubbled from his lips as his eye rolled back and closed.

Miley lunged forward again, reaching for him, "Stop it! You're killing him!"

Loran grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her back again as Tariq screamed at her, "Tell me who they are or he dies!"

Tears burned at her eyes as they remained glued on Drake. She could hear the wheezing had gotten worse. Now, there was a burbling rattle with each inhale. He was dying, right there on the ground before her. "Please, let me help him."

"Tell me!" Spittle flew from Tariq's lips.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't let Drake die. She couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Five of them are bodyguards from California. The others are FBI and EPA agents from Washington," she whispered. "Please, can I help him? I told you the truth."

"Finally. Too bad you didn't do it before. It might have saved his life." Tariq pulled a gun from the holster at his side. Aiming it at Drake's head, he squeezed the trigger.

The report of the gun was loud in the space. Miley's eyes widened as blood and grey matter sprayed the ground and her legs. There was a scream, loud and piercing, and it took her a moment to realize it was coming from her lips. Something heavy clamped over her mouth, silencing her until only the ragged sounds of her breathing remained. Loran's fetid breath fanned her face as he whispered words in Albanian to her.

"It's time to clean up," Tariq said brusquely. He thrust the gun to the man standing beside him. "Jetmir, destroy the evidence. All of it. Take the last of the shipment for disposal immediately then come back and burn everything. Agron, take two men and clean out the safe room. I want to be gone within an hour. We will regroup at the secondary location. You know what to do."

"The horses?" Loran's question was full of agony.

Tariq exhaled heavily. "Jetmir, leave the stables. There's nothing there but the animals anyway. I'm sure they will be fine. We'll start over again, get you more when we settle."

Tariq turned to walk out when Loran stopped him again. "Vëlla, what about my bride?"

Tariq glanced at Miley and shook his head. "She has seen too much, knows too much. I'm sorry, Vëlla, she must go as well."

"I don't think..."

"It's my place to think, Loran, not yours. She betrayed us both. You saw the photographs Richards sent. She thought by sending them through other channels, she could get away with it. Her friend may know people in high places, but in the end, it always trickles down to the ones who get their hands dirty." He glared at her and pointed one finger in her face. "I know you wished to take this one for your own, but she's damaged. Don't forget, she's the reason we have to leave your precious horses behind. She's the reason we have to start over again. We will find you another bride and I don't want to hear another word about it! I will not tolerate betrayal. I'm still in charge of this family!"

His cold, blue eyes zeroed in on Miley causing her blood to turn to chill, then turn to ice at his final words.

"Goodbye, Dr. Ellison."

Tariq and all but one of the men followed him out, leaving her with Loran. He paced, thrusting his hands through his hair, muttering curses in Albanian and English.

Miley watched his frantic movements over her shoulder. Daring to move slightly, she turned and tried again. "Loran, please, let me go. You don't want to hurt me," Miley whispered as her eyes flittered to Drake's body at her feet. "I won't say anything to anyone."

"I don't want to hurt you, but I have no choice. Tariq is the king, and he has spoken. I'm only a prince." She watched him as he paced, the muttering becoming louder as he argued with himself. Presently, he stopped in front of her and squatted until their eyes met. Miley shuddered to see the madness swirling in his gaze. He looked feverish as he continued to mutter then rant in a mixture of languages. Suddenly the tirade stopped and she heard the sound of something being drawn out. In her mind, it sounded like a knife being removed from a sheath. She bit back a whimper. This was it. This was the end. She was going to join Drake on the hard packed dirt of this small shed.

The door opened, and two men entered. Loran tensed then relaxed. "Get the barrels," he snarled at them. "Hurry. I wish to say goodbye to my bride in private." He moved behind her again, pulling her around until her back was against his front. Cupping her neck with one hand, he leaned down and pressed his cheek to hers as he whispered, "So beautiful. I'll miss you, my little flower."

He ran a four-inch wicked-looking knife down the other side of her face making her shiver in fright. The cold metal felt alien against the heat of her inflamed skin. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, listening to the men removing the barrels of toxic waste from the shed, mentally counting down the minutes until they were finished and Loran took her life.

"I'm sorry, lule e vogël. We would have had beautiful daughters and strong sons. If only you had been smart and accepted your place at my side." He ran a finger along the same path as the blade. "Goodbye, my little flower."

She saw the blade turn in his hand until the tip rested over her heart. Miley didn't dare to breathe, afraid of hurrying her last moments. Too young - she was much too young. She had so much more to live for, so much she wanted to do. It was all wasted time.

The door opened again, startling her. The tip of the blade skated across the swell of her breast leaving a red line of fire in its wake. Behind her, Loran jerked his head up, cursing at the intruder. "I told you I wish to be alone," he snarled.

"You have something that doesn't belong to you."

Those words slid into Miley's mind, and she almost cried. Alcide had found her, and he was here to save her. She opened her eyes and looked to the door where he stood, gun held in his hands and pointed at Loran's head.

Loran cursed again. He dropped behind her head and pressed the knife to her neck. "You have made a big mistake, my friend," Loran growled.

"If you don't let her go, you're going to be making the last mistake of your life." Alcide's eyes stayed steady on her as he moved away from the door and into the room. "You're not getting out of here with her."

"We know you're a SEAL. Tariq was curious who was butting into our business." Loran chuckled menacingly as he glanced at the body at her feet. "He told us everything he knew. It doesn't matter because you're still only one man and I have her." He placed a kiss on Miley's cheek much to her distaste. Across from her, Alcide snarled.

She heard Loran's breaths, harsh and uneven in her ear. Grabbing the crate under her, she tried to be still, not wanting to surprise either of these two men as they watched each other. In her mind, she recited every prayer she could think of, hoping for a miracle that both she and Alcide would get out of this alive and in one piece.

Alcide's gaze flicked down to the mangled corpse. Recognition flashed across his face, and his jaw hardened. Fury burned behind his eyes as he froze in place.

"I'm sorry," Miley whispered. "I'm so sorry. Rissa..."

"Not your fault, Miley," Cowboy's voice held no emotion. "Drake knew what he was doing. He may not have known at first, but he had to have known later. He made his decision. He made a choice, and he paid for it."

The two adversaries stared at each other for several more moments, neither giving in to the other. Miley could feel the tension, thick and pulsing like a living entity coursing through the room. She heard the rapid thump of Loran's heartbeat behind her. His breathing rapid but his hands steady. Without taking her eyes off of Alcide, she barely breathed as she waited for something to happen.

That something arrived in the form of an earth-shattering explosion outside. Loran used the momentary distraction to strike, thrusting the knife into Miley. She screamed as white agony raced through her nerves. The hilt of Loran's knife stood out from her shoulder to the left of her collarbone. Red welled up and ran down her shirt to drip on the floor.

"Miley!" Alcide's strangled cry sliced through her nerves. There were several loud bangs followed by a grunt then a thud.

In a moment, Alcide was there, gently lowering her to the ground as the staccato of gunfire erupted all around the shed. Alcide's eyes burned into hers as he yanked the shirt off his back and pressed it around the knife wound in her shoulder. She hissed as the movement jostled the knife creating new pain.

He winced at her discomfort. "I'm sorry." His words were soft and comforting. "I wasn't here when you needed me."

"It's okay. But, Drake..."

"Worry about Miley right now. Drake is beyond help. You aren't." Cowboy raised his head and yelled, "I need some help in here!" at the top of his lungs.

"I tried not to tell them anything, but I was weak. They brought him in, and he was dying. I thought they would let him live if I told them the truth. Tariq shot him."

Alcide pressed a bloody finger to her lips. "Shh, it's okay. They were going to kill him anyway. They were going to kill you both."

"I know," she whispered. "I'm cold." Her eyes flittered shut.

"You're going into shock. Keep your eyes open, honey. Keep those beautiful grey eyes on me. Digger! Sergi! Someone, I need help!"

"I never wanted to be a damsel in distress."

Cowboy eyes narrowed. "You aren't, Miley. You're strong, so damned strong. Besides, you aren't wearing a dress."

She laughed at his feeble attempt at humor which quickly turned into a wince. "Owww. Remind me not to do that again."

"Noted."

The door finally pulled open. Fear crept through Miley's limbs. Had Loran returned? Tariq? She relaxed when the face of one of Demma's bodyguards appeared over Alcide's shoulder. She thought his name was Davis. "Shit," the man muttered.

"Miley's hurt. Get someone in here," Alcide's voice was harsh. "Call for a med-vac."

"Roger." The big man turned and jogged out the door.

"Just a little bit more. Stay here with me, Miley. Stay right here. I got you. You're going to be okay. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again."

She reached up to touch his face, but her hands wouldn't obey. They lay limply at her side on the cold dirt floor. Instead, she gave him a weak smile. "My cowboy in shining armor," she murmured then surrendered to the blackness.