Page 26 of Dalla's Royal Guards
“Musad and I will have you home soon,” he promised.
“Cianna, are you hungry?” Nanna called.
Cianna’s eyes lit up. “I’m starving!”
Nasser chuckled as Cianna slipped her hand from his and ran to the doorway of the hut where Nanna was standing. Donovan ruffled Cianna’s hair as she passed him and came to stand next to Nasser.
“Colin is resting. His wounds are painful, but he’ll heal. Andre’s given him enough pain meds he won’t be complaining,” Donovan shared.
Nasser nodded. His gaze was still focused on the top of the hill. He couldn’t see his brother or the woman, but it was like a magnet was pulling him to them.
“Colin said the woman saved him… saved all of you,” Donovan commented.
Nasser nodded. “She did.”
“Is she an op?”
The question caught him off guard. Nasser knew he should consider whether the woman was an operative for O’Toole carefully, but he didn’t need to. He felt the answer in his bones.
“No.”
Donovan frowned and stared up at the hill. “Then… who is she?”
“A mystery.”
Seven
Dalla descended the hill and crossed the dusty road to the abandoned hut nestled in the rocky terrain on the other side.
Pascal—no,Musad—trailed after her.
Her steps slowed as she neared the bottom of the canyon, the rough stone cool beneath her feet, and there was Nasser, waiting patiently. The subtle differences between him and Gerold were striking now that she was looking; his hands, his posture, and even the way his hair fell spoke volumes.
Just as there is between Musad and Pascal.
They were very different men from the ones she remembered.
Just as the times had changed,she thought, glancing at the different vehicles.
“I hope you have food in one of your carriages. It has been a long time since I have eaten,” she said.
“We do,” Nasser said as she continued past him.
She explored the outer buildings first, familiarizing herself with them before she made her way to the hut. There were no windows in the stone-and-mud structure. No door either. She was surprised that the roof was still mostly intact.
Her gaze swept over the two men who looked up when she entered. The injured man—Colin—was lying on a makeshift pallet on the ground while the other man rose to his feet when she entered. She smiled at Colin when he struggled to sit up.
“Rest easy, warrior,” she said gently.
“You’ve been talking to Andre,” Colin joked before he winced.
She laughed. “Nei. I know the pain of such wounds.”
“You’ve been shot before?” Nasser asked from behind her.
She turned and nodded. “Yes. Many times. The last time was when the world was burning.”
“When was that?” Musad asked.
