Epilogue

Six months later…

“You said Aisha would be here.” Laila grunted as she leaped over the log, clearing the obstacle with ease. The jungle was thick and dense, the trail almost impossible to see as they ran.

“I said here, but not here,” Trace yelled as he moved ahead of her, machete flashing as he cut down the vegetation threatening to stop them in their tracks.

She couldn’t hold back a rough laugh. “Like you said the guards wouldn’t bother coming after us for, and I quote, ‘a little trinket’?”

He glanced at her over one shoulder, the metal idol safe inside the backpack he wore. “How did I know he was entertaining royalty? And that they’d think it was a kidnapping attempt?”

He stopped still, throwing out his arm as she went to charge past him.

“Whoa.” Laila stared down at the waterfall running under them, the cliff’s edge appearing out of nowhere. She teetered on the rim before he pulled her back.

Behind them, the yelling and screaming increased—she couldn’t make out the words, but she understood anger and rage.

“Shall we?” Trace swept his arm out. “Aisha’s down there with a boat.”

“You hope.”

“I know.” He smiled. “If you wanted a boring life, you could have gone back to Valhalla.”

“And pass up all this?” She grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a quick kiss. “Not on your life.”

She let him go and threw herself off the cliff, laughing as she spotted him out of the corner of her eye, falling beside her.

Fate loves the fearless, indeed…

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