LITMIR.BIZ

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      His disheveled dark hair gleamed in the lights from inside. “That’s an unusual name.”

      More at ease now, she grinned up at him. “I’m an unusual person.”

      As he continued to gaze at her without responding, she felt her face heat. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not really good at flirting.” The words came out in a rush.

      He shrugged. “Who is? I’d rather run in the woods.”

      At his words, she couldn’t help but silently agree. How could this be possible? He’d unknowingly echoed her earlier thoughts. “You run in the woods? Me, too, though I roam more than run. I love the forest.”

      He grinned, devastating her, and then he laughed, the deep, rich masculine sound curling around her like a shawl.

      “Come with me.” Again, he held out his hand.

      This time, instead of blindly accepting, she shook her head. “First, tell me where we’re going.”

      Gravely, he regarded her, the flickering interior lights casting shadows on his craggy features. “To dance, of course.”

      And just like that, he made her want him. So intensely her entire being ached with it.

      “Let’s go,” she said, surprised her voice didn’t crack.

      As they entered through the French doors, the band had begun to play a waltz, as if on cue. Because her mother had seen to it that Willow had received the same dance lessons as her sister, she knew all the steps.

      He swept her into his arms and she had to remind herself how to breathe.

      In that instant, she felt sharply the loss of every magical power she’d never had. Because dancing with Ruben was all that and more. He was tall and fit, his broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. By the laws of physics, he should have been clumsy, a stumbling bear of a man. Instead, he moved with the grace of a born athlete. Women watched them enviously. And the men … the men eyed her, wondering no doubt why such a beautiful man wasted time on such a skinny and frumpy girl.

      “They all want you,” he rumbled in her ear, making her start. At his playful words, she couldn’t help but laugh.

      “I know,” she murmured back, enjoying the joke. “How could they not want the one who can get the prince to dance?”

      He peered down at her, mischief making his eyes sparkle. “You’re right about that, you know. I haven’t danced at a single one of these things since I was twelve.”

      “Why not?” The instant she asked the question, she knew the answer. A man who’d rather be running in the wild forest would eschew dances and banquets and all the other social nonsense that came with being royalty. She should know. She was exactly the same way, though no doubt for dissimilar reasons.

      Still, this was different, somehow. Her beautiful skirt floated around her ankles and she felt as if she were gliding on air.

      They’d barely begun—this time a fox-trot—when someone screamed, a shrill sound of absolute panic. As Willow, along with everyone else, turned to look, the rear of the ballroom exploded.

       Chapter 2

      The blast knocked them to the ground. Instinctively, Ruben tried to direct his fall to protect the unique woman who’d allowed him to spend the evening with her.

      Willow. Hellhounds, he hoped she was all right. Ears ringing, he called her name, even as he hauled her to her feet amid the debris raining down on them.

      She sagged against him, causing his heart to skip a beat. So tiny, her bones. He cupped her soot-covered chin in his hand and lifted her face to his. Her amazing caramel-colored eyes were open, if dazed. Alive. Relatively unhurt, as far as he could tell.

      Relief flooding him, he slipped his arm around her impossibly small waist, helping her to steady herself.

      “Are you okay?”

      She opened her mouth to speak, and then licked her cracked lips instead, drawing his gaze. “I think so,” she finally croaked, sounding uncertain. Tentatively, she moved, testing her joints, and finally shook her head. “At least, I don’t hurt anywhere.”

      She wasn’t bleeding, so for now he had no choice but to take her words for truth. As he turned away, there was another explosion, this one smaller and farther away.

      Damn. His guests … his family … his home.

      Releasing her, he turned to survey the damage, praying there were no fatalities. Several people were still down. Smoke rapidly began to fill the room, which meant there was a fire nearby. Flash. Another mini-explosion. Hell, he didn’t see his parents anywhere. The sounds—moans and wails and crying, fire crackling, something— What? Dripping? Smoke, more smoke. The tainted air grew rapidly difficult to breathe. How many were injured? How many were … dead? Hounds. He hoped none.

      Need. To. Move. Now.

      He took a deep breath. “I’ve got to help get everyone out. Are you well enough to assist me?”

      Blinking, she nodded. The effort seemed to make her dizzy, as she swayed on her feet. Ruben cursed under his breath. He couldn’t leave her, but he wasn’t sure if dragging her around with him was the best idea, either.

      At this point, he didn’t really have a choice. She wasn’t seriously hurt, so she either had to help or take herself to safety.

      A prince’s first responsibility was toward his people. His family. His home. Damn and double damn.

      “Come on.” Taking her arm, he led her through the thickening smoke toward the closest group of people, with the intent of leaving her with them. Most had scrambled back to their feet; those could make their way out, to safety.

      Near them, several lay still on the floor, unmoving.

      Ruben’s stomach lurched as he dropped to his knees next to an older man he recognized from court. So many people hadn’t yet risen. He didn’t dare think that they might not be alive. This man—George something or other—blinked and lifted his head, gray hair tinted red with blood. Hurt, but alive. Ruben helped him to his feet, pointing him and the others who were able to move toward the door.

      The next several minutes—hours?—passed in a blur. Though he’d had to resort to crawling under the smoke, Ruben managed to get from group to group, with Willow surprisingly right alongside him. She’d refused to leave for safety with the others.

      As they led more and more people toward the door, her strength appeared to improve rapidly, for which he was thankful. Together they tended to the wounded, helping people who’d been stunned by the blast to their feet, assisting others in moving their wounded outside, where it was safer area.

      Gasping for air, three times they had led groups of people toward the door, coughing and hacking all the way. They couldn’t stay much longer. The smoke had grown so thick everyone was getting disoriented.

      Was everyone out? He still had not seen his parents, which chilled his blood. He knew his father and if King Leo had been able to move, he would have worked tirelessly to save his people. Ruben prayed the older man worked in another part of the castle, or even better, outside doctoring the wounded. He couldn’t stop long enough to search for him.

      With time of the essence, Ruben grabbed several of the palace guards to help him drag the wounded outside, away from danger. This helped speed things up. Soon, the smoke-filled room emptied and, gasping for air, Ruben finally staggered outside and collapsed on the grass.

      While he tried to suck in enough air to his burning lungs, Ruben pushed away the hated and eerie feeling of déjà vu. This had happened before, when his sister Alisa and her now husband Braden were here. Bombs had gone off inside the palace. Then, many had supposed the attacks were targeted at Dr. Streib, Alisa’s husband who’d initially traveled to Teslinko to do research on her.

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