Caroline lay on the ground, the air knocked from her lungs, shock suppressing her movements. A loud crash had registered a few seconds ago but she couldn’t force her body to turn over and look.

She knew what she would see.

Numb, she fought her way to her feet, stumbling around as though drunk. The long belt he’d slung over her shoulder less than ten seconds ago lay on the ground a few feet away, and in her hand a piece of paper he’d shoved into her fist before tossing her like a grenade through the opening.

He’d said he loved her.

Barely able to pick up her feet, she shuffled to the belt and lifted it in her free hand, taking in the pistol and ammo as if from a distance. A fog hovered over her head.

He loved her.

And just like her father, that love had been violently torn from her grasp. Staring at her hand, she opened her grip to see a small folded map.

Somehow, she knew that map would be marked to show her the way out. Next to the gun on the belt hung a set of keys. Along with the wide band of ammo and a grenade.

He’d saved her and given her the tools she needed to escape.

A frantic sense of urgency rushed through her veins and she turned and faced her nightmare. A huge pile of jagged gray rock completely covered where the doorway had been moments before. Reaper was trapped inside.

Or worse—crushed. . .

Even as the pain ripped her apart, she ran to the wall, clawing at the giant boulders in hopeless despair. She couldn’t budge a single one—not even an inch—but that didn’t stop her from digging until her nails ripped away and her fingertips bled.

He’d given her back her hope and snatched it away in the same breath.

“Reaper, no,” she moaned still frantically digging through the impenetrable wall. “Please, don’t leave me. Please!”

Her words hitched on the sob, hopelessness took her to her knees. She couldn’t move a single one of those rocks. Even if he had survived, he’d suffocate.

She felt like her sternum was caving in on her heart. Caroline dropped to her hands, unable to hold herself upright.

Ranier had taken everything away from her. Her freedom. Her father. Reaper.

Why should she even try to keep living now? It wasn’t worth it, not without someone to love.

She should’ve known that Reaper didn’t really want to leave her before; she should have trusted him. And now. . . Oh God. . .

It was all she could do not to curl into a ball and sob.

“I couldn’t have planned that better myself,” a snide deep voice came from behind her.

Caroline didn’t bother getting up off her hands and knees; it wasn’t worth the effort.

“Lover boy just killed himself and delivered you up like a Christmas present wrapped in a bow.”

It wasn’t fair, dammit. She hadn’t even gotten to see her father’s funeral and now, she wouldn’t see Reaper’s either.

Just like it had when he left her in the hut, stabbing pains picked at her brain. She didn’t know how or why, but without Reaper there to soothe her, her environment crashed in. Cold, gnawing sweat formed on her arms, and down her back the pain descended. She knew what was coming—utter and complete agony.

“All right, princess, enough. Get to your feet; we’re going to find you a new home, one no one knows about. You will never see the light of day again.”

The man’s voice paused in her ears, like shards of glass ripping across her periphery. It was then that her awareness returned. Reaper’s belt was beneath her right hand, her fingers inches from the grenade. With her back turned, the man behind her wouldn’t have seen her weapons.

He wouldn’t know she was ready to die.

Pushing through the pain threatening to take her under, Caroline focused all on the minute task of sliding her hand over to hide the weapon.

“Did you hear me?! On your feet, princess!”

Caroline tore the grenade from the belt, jumped to her feet, and held it aloft. At least ten men formed a semi-circle around her, caging her against the collapsed wall that had just crushed Reaper.

She didn’t want to live without him.

A strange sort of peace blanketed her and she smiled. “I really don’t like being called Princess.”

One man stood in front of the others, obviously in charge. His gaze, once triumphant, slipped from hers to the weapon, anxiety spreading his eyes open wide. “I can put a bullet in your head before you pull that pin.”

The overwhelming screech of birds and animals was trying to break into her concentration but it was like a shield had formed around her, protecting her from the blackout pain that was sure to come. Caroline tilted her head to the side and studied the man. He was short, thin—at least thirty pounds lighter than the rest of his men. Little man syndrome practically oozed from his skin. “And what would the general have to say about that?”

He licked his lips and glanced nervously to his right and then left before answering. “He’s a military man; he’d understand I was defending my life.”

“And you really think your life is worth more to him than mine? I’m the key. Without me, Project Mayhem will vanish right along with his access to unlimited power. You really think a peon like you is worth that?”

No, it wasn’t. She could see the truth in his expression.

A tall brawny soldier elbowed his way in front of the would-be leader, his broad square jaw lifted with confidence. “The general said alive, not uninjured. Put the grenade down and I won’t put a bullet in your arm.” His rifle hung loosely at his side, he obviously thought he had a good bluff in. 

And he might have if she actually wanted to live.

But right now, there was one feeling surging past the agony of losing her love and that was the fearless determination for revenge. The one thing that General Ranier couldn’t afford to lose was her, and she was about to take that option away permanently.

Caroline pulled the pin and chunked the grenade, her feet planted firmly. “Too bad I’m not worried about your bullets.”