The Dare Collection September 2018. Stefanie London

silent as I’m tortured and my unborn child dies in my body for my mother’s insane ambition.

      The murmurs in the crowd grow louder and I see heads turning, looking away from my position at the stake to some distant point behind them. Shouts rise in the distance.

      “Stop that man!”

      “Throw up barricades.”

      “Fire!”

      A volley of gunshots crack, and the crowd falls to the ground, scrambling to the edge of the square.

      And that’s when I see him.

      Damien charges toward me on a magnificent white steed, a bow stretched taut, an arrow nocked on the string, the shaft on fire.

      He isn’t in shining armor. He wears nothing but the ink that covers his skin. Though his face looks like approaching death, he is my knight come to rescue me.

      “Damien!” I scream, as if he can’t see me, the main event, tied to the stake. “I’m here! I’m here!”

      The Black Watch move wordlessly, assembling before me in a half perimeter, unslinging assault rifles from across their backs.

      “Light the pyre!” my mother screams. “Forget the lashes! Light the pyre!”

      The chief executioner rises to his feet and glances at the kindling on which I stand. The bundled twigs are dry and reek of gasoline. All it would take is one, and I’d light up faster than a birthday candle.

      “Don’t do this,” I say. “You’re on live television. The Prince of Edenvale is approaching. Do you think he’ll end you quickly if you kill his wife and child?”

      The executioner turns to face Damien. My prince’s expression is thunderous.

      “I’m sorry, Your Highness.” The executioner removes a long blade from the scabbard at his hip.

      Before I can scream, he drives the blade down my middle, expertly cutting the ties that bind me without leaving so much as a scratch on my clothing.

      “Your kindness will not be forgotten,” I gasp.

      He nods and sprints away without another word, ducking the flying bullets.

      “Juliet!” Damien calls. “Dive to your left.”

      I don’t question my husband. I simply obey. And as I hit the ground I see him unleash his arrow, lighting the pyre. Although now only the empty stake burns.

      He kicks the haunches of his stallion and drives him forward. The waiting Black Watch have two choices: back into the flames or get run down by four churning hooves.

      All take the surprise third option—fleeing in all four directions.

      “Your hand,” he shouts.

      I rise to my feet, throwing up my arm. He grabs it and tugs, swinging me off the ground and over the horse.

      “Yah, Maximus!” he urges.

      “After them!” Mother calls in the distance.

      Floodlights illuminate us.

      “Looks like we’ve got some company,” Damien growls, wrapping a hand around my middle and locking me against his torso.

      An armored Jeep appears out of nowhere, the distance between it and us growing smaller by the second.

      “Turn right!” I yell, and my heart warms as Damien veers in the direction of my command without question.

      Maximus leaps over a three-foot hedge, and the Jeep slams to a screeching halt.

      “Where are you taking us, Princess?”

      “This is the way that I sneaked out the night we met at the Veil,” I say. “The mountain on this side forms a natural barrier, but there is an old irrigation tunnel at the south corner that will bring us into the city.”

      “There,” he says, driving the horse on.

      The black mouth of the cave emerges from the night’s shadows, and we tear into it, the horse not balking despite the fact that there are only inches of space on either side of us and maybe half a foot at best overhead. The light in the distance gets closer and closer with every one of Maximus’s strides.

      Then we burst out into the city, and four police cars career up the street, sirens blazing.

      Damien veers the horse up an embankment and onto a steep road. “Do you remember where we are?” he says into my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

      It takes me a minute before I realize where we are going. It’s the same road we took when we left The Veil.

      “We’re going to Lovers’ Leap,” I gasp, craning my head around my shoulder so that I can meet his gaze. “Do you remember now?”

      “Yes. I remember everything,” he says, and his eyes burn. “Every last damn wonderful thing.”

      A sob wells in my throat. Even though we are racing for our lives, it’s as if time has utterly stopped.

      “I am going to get you out of here alive, and we are going to have our child and grow old somewhere safe and boring.”

      I burst out laughing. “Life with you will never be boring.”

      And then we’re outside the city proper, retracing our path along the mountain’s winding road until we’re there. The Lovers’ Leap.

      For several seconds it’s quiet, and I truly think we’ve outmaneuvered our pursuers.

      But then there it is, the wail of the sirens as the four police cars skid around the corner.

      “Do it,” I say. “Go over the edge.” My laugh is high and nervous. “Perhaps ours will have a happier ending.”

      Damien squeezes me tight. “There’s no other way.” His voice is tight.

      “I trust you with my life,” I answer with conviction. “And the life of our unborn child. Damien... I love you.”

      He kisses me short and sweet, his lips tasting like the promise of forever even if it only lasts for a moment.

      And then, we leap.