Free Badlands by Seleste deLaney Page B

noise. Ever breathed a sigh of relief as she passed the engines and their quiet droning accompanied her for a moment. Once past though, she was alone again.
    Her weapons belt hung on her door when she reached it. While her fingers stretched toward the leather, her eyes drifted to the side. His quarters were only a few steps away. She could…
    No.
    Ever grabbed her belt and jerked the door open. After she kicked her boots inside and hung the belt over the chair, she threw herself on the bed. Tonight hadn’t solved anything; it had only made matters worse.
    Henrietta had called her a whore that first night on the Dark Hawk and now she’d gone and made it look like the cultivated bitch was right all along.
    Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
    And the sex hadn’t even been worth the scar she’d have on her back, much less the pain she’d brought herself.
    She shrieked, the mattress swallowing the noise. Searching for something to hold on to, she balled the blankets in her fists. Ever fought the emotions warring within her, but, in the end, they followed her into a fitful sleep.
    Horns blared in a blackened sky as blood seeped from battle wounds all over her body, staining the ground around her. She fought her way through walls of people, searching for a way to end the pain. She had to get Laurette to safety. It was her duty, her promise to the queen. The wall of enemies collapsed before her and a chasm opened in the ground at her feet. As the earth crumbled away, the dust cleared from her vision.
    Not one but two people—one to her right, the other far to her left—were held prisoner across the gaping hole. She knew with everything in her she could not make it across the chasm to save them both. Their faces flashed in her mind. The princess. The captain. Neither called nor begged for help, both standing stoic, certain she would make the right decision.
    In the end, she made the only choice she could and leaped across the divide.
    Ever woke with a start, her heart racing, a scream of dread in her throat. The gaslamps cast eerie shadows on the walls, painting the ship afire. The dream haunted her. She’d leaped without thinking, it was the only explanation. Her mother had taught her as a child that dreams bore messages, warnings sometimes.
    That had to be it. Ever didn’t live her life randomly, she chose a course of action and saw it through. Since she’d been on this ship though, she’d fought against such decisiveness. If she kept it up, it would be her undoing. She would fail in her quest, and the Badlands would fall—all because she was too proud to feed this illogical hunger.
    Setting her jaw, she pushed off the bed. Ever knew what she had to do, knew it had been the right decision all along, just one she’d refused to accept. With her head held high, she smoothed the wrinkled front of her shirt and strode into the corridor. There she faltered, unsure, palms sweating. No. She’d made the choice, it was time to see it through to whatever end awaited her.
    She took four steps toward the bridge then turned and rapped softly on the door. No answer. Her hands trembled and she squeezed them into fists to quiet them once more. The lack of response didn’t matter. She wouldn’t turn back. There was only one thing for her to do.
    Her fingers relaxed, steady once again, reached for the handle and opened the door. Ever stepped into the darkness, making certain to close the door tightly behind her.

Chapter Seven
    Spencer cursed in his sleep. Every dream was about her. Memories of the day she’d come aboard and laughed in his face. Her body pressing against his in the corridor, clothes slipping like satin against her skin. Along with conjured images of her lying with Zeke.
    Exhausted as he’d been, as much as he needed the rest, he wanted nothing more than to wake up and banish the visions. Instead, he saw her walk into his room. She glided across the floor like a specter. Her hair fell around her shoulders, the gaslamps