Page 43 of Dalla's Royal Guards
“Ours,” Nasser corrected, his voice a low, rough promise against her ear as he moved in perfect rhythm with his brother.
Dalla’s eyes burned as she looked between them. There was no fear, no hesitation—only truth. “And you… are mine,” she panted.
The world narrowed until there was nothing but the feel of their bodies, the taste of shared desire, and the heat of something deeper—something neither time nor death could erase.
They came together in a tangle of limbs and whispered promises, forging something new—something none of them could name but all of them felt. A bond—fragile, yet unbreakable—born not just of passion, but of trust, understanding, and a love that defied lifetimes.
For the first time in centuries, Dalla felt whole.
And for the first time since her original lifetime, she dared to believe she wasn’t alone anymore.
Twelve
“What have you found out?” Detri asked.
The pimple-faced twenty-something almost fell out of his seat in response. Detri scowled when the IT tech reduced the screen of the game he was playing and swiveled in his chair. He curled his fingers, fighting the urge to snap Kyle Worthington’s scrawny little neck.
“Oh, hey, man. I didn’t hear you come in. Yeah, I got the results back, but, listen, dude, they don’t make much sense,” Kyle said with an amiable smile.
“Give me the report,” Detri ordered.
Kyle swiveled in his chair again, grabbed a file folder off the desk, and held it over his shoulder. Detri took the folder, opened it, and quickly scanned the single page.
“She knows how to use that big-ass bow, that’s for sure. Look at the way she pulls it back and holds it steady. She looks just like Helga,” Kyle said.
Detri looked at the screen. Kyle was playing the video from Tomás’s body-cam. The helicopter’s angle gave them a perfect view of the woman below.
He motioned for Kyle to play the video in slow-motion again. Detri leaned forward, and his eyes narrowed as he watched the woman pull a long arrow from the quiver she was wearing, fit the shaft, and pull back. The strength that was needed to pull and hold the bow in that position would be substantial. It would take years of practice.
“Did you research competitions?”
Kyle gave him a skeptical look. “Dude, I don’t think they have competitions for Viking longbows, but yeah, I checked anyway. I also did an analysis of the shaft Tomás sent over. There was writing on it.”
“I know that. What did it say?” Detri asked, thumbing through the report.
Kyle replied as if he spoke Old Norse every day.
“The fire of Viking vengeance lives,” Detri murmured.
Kyle looked at him with a startled expression. “How did you know—? Oh, yeah, I translated it for the report. My bad.”
“How did you know what it meant?” he asked.
Kyle grinned and pulled up the game he had been playing. “Vikings’ Wrath. You pick up what they are saying and what the symbols mean. It’s based on the language of the old Norse gods and the Vikings. The game is bloody as hell. The Vikings were a blood-lusting bunch of savages back then.”
“Fascinating,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I want her name. Can you get it for me?”
“Now,thatis the interesting part.” Kyle smirked and flipped through several images, ending up with a picture of the woman drawing her bow on half of the screen while the other half had an image of the shaft they were able to analyze, zoomed in to a name etched into it.
“It would appear the lady likes to sign her work.” Kyle’s pleased smile dimmed with confusion. “But yeah, as you can see, her name doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
Detri’s gaze flickered back and forth between the woman and the name. They both seemed familiar.
“Did you run a search for her name?”
“Did I—? What kind of dumb question is that? Of course I did,” Kyle retorted.
Detri’s eyes narrowed on the back of Kyle’s head. The desire to kill the man-child was growing. The only reason he didn’t was because Kyle was good at his job. Otherwise, the Black Hat hacker would have been dead after the first time he mouthed off.
