݃ ⠀🈳 𓃉⠀⠀.. ★ 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙰𝙸𝚂 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂𝙻𝙴𝚈 ,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝙻𝙰𝙶𝙾𝚂 , 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙰 — 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 :
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ lowercase intended.
the putrid and thick smell of burning flesh mingled into his labored breaths as his tired, bloodshot red eyes patterned back and forth in the darkness, searching.
searching for a glimpse of light, any signs of life in the cold space of the damp room, an exit he could find, a random object left behind that he could lean down and grab to pick the lock of these chains or something useful.
his pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out the deafening silence that surrounded him. in it, he could hear the echoes of every memory, every moan, every laugh, that led him to this moment. beaten, bound and chained, on the cusp of death.
even then, akua was still on his mind.
his mind raced with void questions he knew he wasn't likely to get any answers to. things like, was she safe? where did they take her? was she still alive? what seemed to be hours ago, he heard her screams as she was ripped from his grip.
a sudden flashback hit him like a wave. they had been running through the narrow maze of alley ways downtown, as the sound of shouting and gunfire burst behind them. desire turned to see akua's terrified face, her eyes wide with fear.
they almost made it to safety when the men caught up with them, dragging akua away as desire fought desperately to hold on to her. the last thing he saw was her being thrown into a black van before he was knocked out and somewhere along the journey, ended up here.
his fruitless inquiries probed him as he struggled against the rusty uncomfortable chains that bound his arms behind his back. there may have been hope for her; something in his heart refused to believe she didn't make it out without fighting. it could've been the fact that she grew up hard or that she was always street smart and resourceful... but he, on the other hand, was far from safe.
nowhere in the cards did he foresee his flight to lagos all those months ago bringing him to something as sinister and unnerving as this. his intuition was usually right about looming danger and taking precaution of the unfamiliar, but not this time.
this time, his sixth sense failed him. his boundaries dissipated, his moral compass was snatched by her smile. her smell, the way she moved. the taste of her lips, her eyes. her accent, her culture. she held all of his reasoning in the palm of her hands.
he was alone in a room, and the evidence of fear began to settle in. where did he misstep? one minute he was immersed beneath the red strobes of the strip club, his body pressed against the warmth of her beautiful brown skin, and the next, he was tripping over his own two feet. lost, isolated, a wanderer in the world of the unknown.
silently praying for an escape. a blessing, or some relief, to a foreign god. as if answering his plea, the door creaked open, its heavy steel frame moving slowly. this was the first time it had been opened since he was thrown into this hell.
a figure stepped into the room, the blinding light of the world outside casted long, ghoul-like shadows on the graffitied concrete walls. he squinted, trying to make out who was entering. he hadn't caught more than a thirty second glimpse of who captured him before he was out cold. as the figure approached, his heart skipped a beat.
" desire, " the voice was soft, almost tender.
he recognized it immediately. it was akua. relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by his confusion. how did she manage to find him and what had they done to her?
" akua... baby, thank god you okay," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper that croaked from his dry and aching throat.
she stepped closer and closer to him, her face now visible from the door's light, but the look in her eyes wasn't one of concern or fear. her expression was still and she wasn't battered. not so much as a scratch was on her. a visual difference compared to how beat up he was.
she didn't speak as she knelt beside him, her dainty fingers gently tracing the lines of his bruised face. her touch was demure and affectionate as it always was, but it hurt to be touched. his brows drew together as he winced in pain.
something told him that he could hold off on the specifics of asking her what she went through or how did she get away, he was simply happy to see she was alive.
she leaned in, her lips delicately brushing along his jawline, sending a shiver of mixed emotions down his spine. for a brief moment, hope unfurled within him. maybe they would be able to get out in time.
⠀⠀⠀maybe there was still a chance for them to make it.
" do you remember when we met, you told me to use you however i want to? and how you'd do anything for me ? " she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. her voice was a seductive whisper laced with the thick accent of her native tongue and the distinct smell of liquor on her breath.
her collected but eerie demeanor in contrast to his own was telling him more than anything she could've ever said. he was worried, but hesitant. trying to decipher the meaning of her words.
his heart dropped as he struggled to understand where this was going and why she was bringing the past up at a dire time like now. they had bigger things to worry about if they didn't move swiftly.
" of course i do, but why you bringin' this up right now? we should be tryna to get out here... , you been drinkin' ? " he managed to choke out his concerns.
" this isn't a rescue mission... i'm not here to save you from any of this. i'm here to collect on that offer, " she continued, pulling back slightly, her eyes locking with his.
the sudden realization mercilessly sliced through the fragile hope he had clung to for hours in this hellish confinement.
her words were earthshaking, and he felt as though the ground beneath him was shifting. the weight of her betrayal pressed down on his chest, crushing him.
she wasn't here to help him? was this a setup? maybe their love got lost in translation. blurred somehow, somewhere along the lines of their time together over the last few months. he desperately hoped his sense of understanding was faulty and he was simply in a daze, dreaming, hallucinating—anything to make her words not mean what he thought they did.
" i don't know what they did to you in there kua, but please, babe... we can still make it out of here. we can still do everything we talked about. i promise we can sort all this out later, i'll protect you. just please untie me. " he pleaded, desperation seeping into his voice.
she shook her head slowly, every back and forth motion indicated her pity and evident disgust.
" oh look now, the pathetic sex-crazed american man wants to be my savior. he wants me to run away with him like this is a fairytale, so we can be together forever and live happily ever after. my hero! are you that stupid, desire? you don't get it, do you? this was never a relationship, it was a transaction. "
before he could respond, she straightened her posture, and stood to her feet once again. her curvy figure towering over him in power on all levels but her dismissive gaze never left his desolated one.
" i'm sure you remember all those nights you told me how love isn't worth the trouble, how you swore every woman was the same, how they only saw you as a status symbol because of your fame. you said they only wanted your money and how different i was but you still lied to me just the same. "
she paused, a smirk playing on her lips, her eyes darkening with a knowing look. it was as though his thoughts rushed ten thousand miles a minute, as so much became unknowingly revealed to him.
their once intimate conversations had a special place in his heart, and he had every intention of getting her away from the shallow lifestyle of her career. he knew she was never happy with being a stripper.
he understood what drugs, crime, and sex ultimately led to in the end, but it never crossed his mind that his attempt at bending the truth to protect her would have hurt her like it did.
" you lied, but i wasn't as naïve as you thought. i knew more than i let you believe i did. if you wanna act confused, i'll let you sit with that. as of right now, understand this: i'm a businesswoman here to collect a debt. let's see how much your love is really worth... "
his eyes followed the slight glint of the silver key tied around her neck, the hope for survival reigniting briefly within him. he knew that key was his ticket to freedom from these chains, from this torment, from lagos, if only he could convince her to use it.
she noticed his gaze and a sly smile spread across her lips. she reached up, fingering the key before dangling it in front of his face, letting it swing teasingly just out of his reach.
" you think this is your way out, don't you? " she purred, leaning in close.
" you're not getting away that easy, baby. not when we've finally got you right where we've wanted you for months. "
the realization hit him harder than any physical blow. she had been playing him from the start, and now, she held all the power. defeated, he couldn't speak another word, desperately trying to find a way to turn the situation in his favor, but every avenue seemed to lead back to her.
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Space Between (12)
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MASTERLIST
Space Between (12)
“Why now? After all this time, why now does he suddenly allow himself to be made available for capture?”
“It has been many years. The aging process is difficult for colonizers. Perhaps he has become careless in his treacheries.”
“Does it matter why he is now visible to us?”
“Of course it matters; this could be a setup!”
“Even if it is, our forces are strong enough to handle any type of attack.”
“Yes, but why even risk it?”
“Justice must prevail.”
“Justice or revenge? There is a difference, Hodari.”
Y/N had a headache from all of the various voices and opinions that filled the throne room. She loved and respected the idea behind a democratic structure where all members had a chance to voice his/her opinion but she could not understand why it had to be done so loudly.
She also wondered if all of the sessions were as chaotic but figured that this particular case was a special anomaly.
Meanwhile, Bunme sat unbothered right on the throne next to T’Challa, her headphones covering her ears as she watched some American television program on a tablet. How her daughter was able to convince him to let her not only sit in on a session but on his throne, was beyond her. She just knew that she’d been summoned to the throne room by T’Challa, immediately beckoned to come to stand by his side, and forced to endure the chaotic debates.
“A man responsible for the lives of so many Wakandans deserves to be punished.” M’Baku sighed, rubbing his temples. “Is this not a shared belief?”
“Yes, but what type of punishment are you referring to?” The elder of the Mining Tribe questioned.
“Death.”
“A trial.”
Nakia and Erik spoke at the same time, both with starkly different answers. Nala caught the look that they shared at the revelation of their contrasting opinions.
“Glad we have that settled,” M’Baku muttered in irritation.
“Enough,” T’Challa finally spoke up, Nala taking note of how everyone immediately silenced their discussions. “That will be enough.”
He sat up in his throne, mindful of the child next to him and looked around the room. “For over twenty years, Kaue has escaped our pursuits.”
“Not capturing him during my time as king is my greatest regret,” N’Jobu spoke up from his seat next to Erik.
T’Challa nodded and confirmed. “I wish to bring Klaue back here to stand trial.”
“Wakanda does not need a warrior right now. It needs a king.” The elder for the Merchant Tribe complained.
“Wakanda needs justice.” W’Kabi countered boldly. Nala recognized him as Okoye’s husband and T’Challa’s friend whom she’d met at the public gathering the week prior. “My parents were killed when he attacked, not a day goes by when I do not think about what Klaue took from us, from me."
Nala’s heart dropped as she detected the sadness in his voice. So much loss. So much pain. And all because of her parents and their greed.
She felt nauseous.
“"It's too great an opportunity to pass." Okoyo attempted to plead, a hint of desperation in her voice.
"Take me with you,” W’Kabi suggested to T’Challa. “We will take him down together. Side by side."
"I need you here,” T’Challa reminded. “Protecting the border."
“What about me?” Y/N spoke up before realizing what she was saying, all eyes immediately falling on her. “I could go. I could help.”
“That is not necessary,” the leader of the Mining tribe interjected. “General Okoye will most likely assist our king.”
“Yes, but she would be useful.” N’Jobu offered his support. “I’ve seen firsthand what Princess Y/N is capable of out in the field.”
“This is a Wakandan matter.” Another elder chimed. “It has nothing to do with the princess or her country.” Nala’s stomach knotted. If only they knew… “Nor does this meeting.”
Y/N literally felt the abrupt shift in T’Challa mood at the snub directed toward both she and Bunme. He was about to say something when she decided to intervene.
“With all due respect, councilman, Klaue is wanted internationally. His crimes are not just limited to Wakanda but other nations as well, so I would disagree with your statement that this is a Wakandan matter.”
“And should it even matter who helps to capture him?” Nakia added on. “As long as we can finally reign him in.”
“The people of Wakanda have all been so kind and gracious to my daughter and me during this difficult time in Niganda.” Nala confessed, ignoring the few people who were not as genial with their reception to her, Bunme, and Dumi. “It would be an honor and a privilege to help bring solace to everyone affected by this man.” She looked down at T’Challa. “Including your king.”
“I for one am in agreement with Princess Y/N being a part of the mission,” M’Baku voiced his support.
“As am I,” Nakia went to second his motion, followed by N’Jobu, W'Kabi and the elders for both the River and Border tribe.
Even Ayo, who wasn’t even a part of the council, voiced her support from her position by the door.
Surprisingly, Erik remained quiet.
Okoye was the last to speak. “I will gladly battle alongside the princess.” The general looked over at Nala and winked. “Anyday.”
She smiled and thanked the group before T’Challa, of course, gave his approval and adjourned the meeting.
However, both Nala and T’Challa were unaware of the fact that Bunme had paused her programming toward the end and heard what they planned on doing.
And she wasn’t happy.
She wasn’t happy at all.
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
It wasn’t until later that evening when Y/N was sitting on T’Challa’s bed, her daughter in her lap, putting Bun Bun’s load of curls into a pineapple, that Bunme brought up what she heard.
“Mommy,” she sniffled, causing Y/N to immediately stop her movements to twist her body to look at her baby girl’s face.
Her chest tightened when she saw that the little girl was crying. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t want you and kitty to go.” Bunme’s voice broke as she clung her doll to her chest. Nala frowned as she tried to think about what Bunme was talking about. “I don’t want you to do the battle.”
Her stomach dropped. “Oh, sweetie….” She trailed off and lifted Bunme as she closed her legs and sat the child back down. She didn’t know how Bunme heard through the supposed soundproof Wakandan made headphones but then realized that she must have been listening in on the latter portion of the conversation.
“T’Challa,” she called for him, hoping that he was done with his shower. Sure enough, he walked out almost immediately, dressed in black pajama pants and a gray undershirt.
He was by their side as soon as his eyes landed on a crying Bunme.
“Hey, hey.” His voice was soft as he gently rubbed her back. “What’s wrong, sam isipho?”
“Dumi said one time that…” she hiccuped, her cheek pressed against her mother’s chest. “-when...people go to...go to battle, they die.” She started to cry harder, rubbing at her eyes. “And I don’t want you to die.”
Nala shut her eyes at her daughter’s words. If only Bunme had waited just a few more minutes, T’Challa and herself were going to talk to the child. Together. Explain that they would only be gone for two to three days and that they wouldn’t be in any danger. Instead, they had to deal with their daughter who was terrified that they weren’t going to return.
“Bunme….” T’Challa started out, not even worrying about how she found out. He highly doubted Nala said anything without him being present. Nevertheless, she was crying, and she was hurting. Both things he never wanted again to think about when referring to Bunme. “Sweetheart, please don’t cry. I promise you. I won’t let anything happen to your mama. Ever.”
“And aren’t you the one always saying that mommy is strong?” Nala softly reminded, kissing the top of Bun Bun’s head. “I’ll be okay, sweetie. I would never go somewhere if I thought that I couldn’t come back to you.”
“What about Kitty?” She hiccuped while looking over at T’Challa. “Who’s gonna watch him? He’s gotta be okay.” A beat. “I want a mommy and a daddy.”
Both T’Challa and Nala froze.
Did she really just say what they thought she said?
T’Challa was the first to return to reality as he scooted closer to the two. “Come here, Bunme.” She sniffled but obliged, crawling over to him as he pulled her onto his lap. “Baba.” The little princess stared up in confusion and continued to sniffle. “Say it,” he closed his eyes. “Please.”
A few seconds of hesitation. “I already do.”
T’Challa froze. “What?”
“Well you gave me the necklace that your daddy gave you and you said it was in your family for a really long time.” Bunme started to twiddle her thumbs. “And you’re really nice to me and buy me stuff, and Akinyi and Akua said that their Baba does stuff like that for them too.” She was referring to her twin friends from school. “So I just say it in my head.” Nala listened with a full heart as her daughter relayed her confession.
T’Challa released a shaky breath and pulled her into him, tucking her head under his chin. “Well, now you can say it out loud, intombazana yakho.”
Her forehead puckered as she stared up at him with all of the innocence in the world. “What does that mean?”
“It...it means ‘my daughter,’ Bunme.” A beat. “It means my daughter.”
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” Erik questioned as he and N’Jobu walked on either side of Nala.
“Klaue needs-”
“Not that,” he interrupts. “I mean leaving me in charge of Bunme.”
“Yes, of course.” She smiled softly. “She likes you.”
“She calls me ‘bad kitty’ and ‘scar’...who the fuck is Scar anyway? You letting lil’ mama watch Al Pacino?”
“Ignore him.” N’Jobu rolled his eyes. “Bunme will be in great hands.”
“I know she will. I wouldn’t be leaving her if I didn’t.” Y/N confirmed with a small nod. “Plus, she will spend tomorrow afternoon at Jabariland with Hawla, and I’ve also asked Nakia if she would stay here as well.”
Erik stopped walking. “Nakia?”
“Yes, is that a problem?” Y/N propped a brow. Nakia offered no objection when she asked so she assumed it would be okay with both parties.
“Son?” N’Jobi pushed.
“It’s nothing...she just didn’t tell me she was going to be staying here...that’s all.” Erik quickly shrugged off the surprise. “What about Ramonda?”
Nala felt her anger start to stir just from the mentioning of T’Challa’s mother. “I’ve warned her already to stay away from Bun, and I told Nakia to make sure that there is no interaction between the two.”
“Last I spoke to her, she was not feeling well. It is why she was not in attendance for yesterday’s council meeting.”
Nala had to stop herself from making a smart retort on N’Jobu’s comment. The only reason Ramonda didn’t go to the meeting was because she probably caught wind that Bunme and she were going to be there.
“So we have not had a chance to talk about your….reluctance?” N’Jobu chimed as Nala sent a questioning glance to Erik who simply shrugged.
“I told him that you decided to just let the chips fall where they may, but he’s old and stubborn.”
N’Jobu opened his mouth but faltered. “Wait, old?”
Nala shook her head as they finally reached the hanger bay, her heart swelling with joy as she watched Bunme and T’Challa interact. She was running around the jet, pointing to various spots, probably asking him what they were for while Okoye and Ayo observed the two.
The father and son followed her gaze. “He loves her, you know.” She turned to N’Jobu. “They have developed a bond.”
Her mouth formed into a small frown. She considered telling them about the breakthrough between the official/unofficial family but decided against it. “I know….and that is why I have decided to tell him.” The duo was shocked. “Once we return, I will sit down with him and….finally tell him the truth.”
It wasn’t an easy decision to come to. She was terrified of how everything would play out, of how her parents would react to her deception, how T’Challa would react, hell, even how Bunme would feel knowing that her “new” Baba was actually the real deal.
But last night’s incident cemented her decision. T’Challa needed to know. He deserved to know, and she would hide it from him no more.
“I’m glad you told us now.” Erik breathed heavily. “That gives me time to reach out to this girl I know.” Nala and N’Jobu both scowled with confusion. “She’s a therapist. Pretty good too, but apparently she’s been going through some weird familial shit. Something about a long lost brother, husband lying, and she pregnant…..on second thought, maybe we should handle this ourselves.”
“No, I will handle it. I’m the one who has been lying to him.”
“You can tell him, sure, but we’re gonna be there when you do.” She went to protest but Erik continued. “Not in the same room but the vicinity….you’ve never seen T when he’s mad.”
She thought back to how she walked in on him practically about to murder Dumi. Speaking of, she made a mental note to send him a message while they were in the air.
She would also talk to him upon their return.
“I think what he is trying to say is that you have our support,” N’Jobu clarified, taking his arm and lightly placing it on her shoulder. “And our love.”
Nala grinned and nodded. “Thank you. For everything.”
He returned her smile.
“I don’t know, Nalz.” Erik looked over at the jet where T’Challa and Okoye were discussing last minute details of the mission while waiting for Nala to join them, Bunme holding onto T’Challa’s leg as she watched the two adult talk. “I just got a really bad feeling about this.”
She exhaled. “Me telling him?”
“Naw, this mission.” He elaborated. “I know the three of you can handle yourselves, but I just...I don’t know. I can’t shake this feeling that something isn’t right.”
“Do not worry yourself,” she reached out to touch his arm. “Everything will be fine.”
“I promise.”
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
“Bast willing, this will go quickly, and I can get this ridiculous thing off my head.”
Nala smiled over at Okoye. “It looks nice on you. Just whip it back and forth.”
She peered up at T’Challa to see he was doing his best to maintain a straight face.
“What?” Okoye sneered in disgust. “It’s a disgrace.”
Nala wanted to compliment the General on how nice she looked, the red dress revealing a body that one could never guess existed under her uniform but decided to hold out once she spotted their “in.”
Nala reached her arm to stop them from walking. “Let me.”
T’Challa looked down at her, the king trying desperately hard to ignore how her black gown hung to every curve and accentuated her chest. “Why?”
She smirked. “Watch.”
As she walked ahead, he noticed that she hadn’t covered the scars on her back and made a note to ask her about it later.
“Hello Sophia,” she spoke in Korean as she sauntered over to the market worked. “Good to see you.”
Okoye and T’Challa immediately exchanged looks. Did she know this woman?
The Asian worker eyed her skeptically, speaking harshly in her native language.
“Would you really turn away a princess? The daughter of M’Butu?” Nala chuckled softly and leaned over. “Or would you rather me go home and inform him that you are the reason I came back empty-handed.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Has your father made good on his debts?”
Y/N managed her poker face despite her shock, but at the same time, she wasn’t surprised. Her father owed so many, yet continued to spend lavishly.
“Why do you think I’m here?” She motioned to T’Challa and Okoye. “I have potential….buyers. Very deep pockets. They’re good.”
The woman’s eyes widened before she nodded and a man lifted the covering to reveal the entrance.
“Thank you,” Nala grinned smugly as she led the way, the three of them walking through the detectors before entering the underground club.
“Spread out,” T’Challa instructed as the three of them overlooked and studied the layout from the balcony. “The buyer is likely already here.”
Okoye opted to stay on the second floor but Nala and T’Challa went to the first level, him extending his arm for her to hold as they descended.
“The woman outside,” he started to speak, glancing over at her. “How did you know her?”
She sighed, allowing a certain sadness to fill her. “When your father is as crooked as mine….you have connections everywhere.” She looked over at him. “I saw you the picture of her that you and Okoye pulled up while we were on the jet…..she is a…..business partner for Niganda.”
“And she’s seen you before?” He pressed.
“Yes, she often travels to the palace, and we’ve crossed paths once or twice.”
He was satisfied with her answer. “Well, princess, will there be any trouble tonight?”
She caught his double meaning. “Depends.” They reached the bottom of the steps and she pulled her arm from his. “On how quickly we finish the mission.”
T’Challa gave her that look, the look that let her know she was definitely going to be getting some come hell or high water.
Her thighs clenched in anticipation.
“Can we please focus on the mission?” Okoye’s voice sounded in her ears as she remembered that they were all on one line. “Thank you.”
Nala sat at a bar and ordered a whiskey, casually perusing the club. “Eyes up.” She brought the glass to her mouth. “Americans.” A beat. “I count three.”
“Five.” Okoye corrected. “How could you miss Grease Lightning there behind you?”
Nala smiled.
“Six,” T’Challa added. “Just spotted an old friend who works for the CIA.” Okoye and Nala slyly tried to search for the man T’Challa was referring to. “It just got a little more complicated.”
“Do you think it a coincidence that the CIA just so happens to end up in the same spot and at the same time with a notorious thief and assassin?” Nala chuckled, holding the glass up to her mouth as she continued to survey the room.
“Not at all,” T’Challa murmured, walking over to the white man. She listened as he calmly explained that Klaue was leaving them.
Not matter what.
She was still scanning the casino when she saw him waltz in, surrounded by a plethora of men, bodyguards. “Klaue.”
“General?”
“In position to secure our exit,” Okoye confirmed as Nala started to walk away from the bar, counting just how many men there were and try to spot who had the item that was the reason for this public appearance.
“And the vibranium?”
She paused before replying to T’Challa. “I don’t see it yet.” Nala then noticed one man shift his arm, revealing the gun holstered on his hip. “I thought there were no weapons allowed in here.”
Okoye quietly sighed. “There’s not supposed to be.”
“Well somebody did not get the memo.” Again, she caught a glimpse of another guard with a gun. “Definitely armed.”
“Six more,” Okoye grew irritated as more men started to enter the club from the entrance. “It is a setup.”
Nala growled. “We need to move on Klaue.” Did Klaue know that they were coming? She doubted it, but even the thought that he was prepared to bring so much danger to innocent people made her stomach turn.
“Stand down,” T’Challa instructed. “We can’t afford a shootout.”
The anxiety and anticipation were eating at Y/N, and she knew that T’Challa was probably feeling the same way. This was the closest he’d ever come at capturing the man who was responsible for killing his father.
She owed it to him, to Wakanda, to do all she could to ensure that the mission wasn’t a bust.
She took one last look at Klaue as he talked with the CIA agent. “It’s now or never.”
Okoye hissed. “Stand down.” Except, she made the mistake of speaking in Xhosa. A voice was heard in the distance. A voice that didn’t belong to the General of the Dora Milaje. “I’ve been made.” Was the last thing to enter her ear before Okoye’s grunts dominated the shared line.
Screams entered the club as a body was thrown from off the balcony.
It was on.
T’Challa kicked a pool table and grabbed the agent to protect the man from the rapid hail of gunfire. Okoye handled the guards from the top level, and Nala immediately went into fighting mode when someone tried to grab her from behind. She easily twisted around and performed a side kick that sent the man flying but also attracted a couple more paid fighters in her direction.
Across the club, in different areas, T’Challa, Okoye, and Y/N worked to subjugate each fighter while also trying to keep eyes on Klaue.
Nala looked up just as she finished stabbing the heel of her stiletto through a man’s eye to see Klaue was nearing the exit. She narrowed her eyes and darted for the steps, kicking and punching her way up, attracting the attention of T’Challa.
“Klaue!” She shouted as the perverse man looked at her with a sickening smile.
“Princess,” he winked, as though he knew something that she didn’t. She was instantly unsettled and caught off guard, allowing Klaue a chance to pull out his gun, pointing it at her. Yet, he didn’t shoot.
He just smiled.
“Umbulali!” T’Challa yelled in Xhosa, murderer, as he was suddenly behind Nala before he switched their positions so that she was behind him.
Klau raised his arms, dropping his gun in the process. “You know,” Nala watched as the man’s arm started to transform into something else. Something that resembled a gun. It started to lower, aimed directly at her and the king. “You look just like your old man.”
T’Challa growled but grabbed a large box of some sort and pitched it toward Klaue before grabbing Nala and pulling her into him, his back toward Klaue.
Her stomach started to twist as the two suddenly smashed into the railing and off the balcony. T’Challa managed to twist them mid-air so that she landed on him once they crashed into a pool table on the lower level.
Pain shot through her body as she rolled off of him, the king immediately going to check on her.
“Are you alright?” She was holding onto her bleeding arm, a shattered piece from the table being the culprit. Yet, his eyes were focused on her abdomen.
“No,” she breathed. “I’m pissed off.”
“He’s getting away,” Okoye shouted, running over to make sure that the king was unharmed
“No, he’s not.” The mutant vowed, her eyes turning completely white, her head tilting to the side.
T’Challa and Okoye looked up and around as a loud clap of thunder roared from outside.
“Come on,” Nala instructed, forcing herself to power through her pain as she headed for the steps. Okoye stayed behind while T’Challa moved in front as he was the fastest.
Upon entering outside, the three were met with dense fog, heavy winds, and clapping thunder/lightning.
Objects were flying all around as T’Challa had to use his enhanced senses to see through the chaos. Nala lifted her hands and closed them into a fist, a strike of lightning hitting a chain of what appeared to be SUV’s, causing the hoods to catch on fire.
T’Challa’s anger increased as he spotted Klau jumping out a car and attempting to run but stopping as he couldn't see through the thick fog.
“Klaue!” T’Challa roared, activating his suit as he started to stalk toward the man, his claws retracted. “Did you think we would forget?”
As Nala caused the fog to start to dissipate, Klaue took the opportunity to lift his weaponized arm and shooting it in T’Challa’s direction. Of course, his suit easily absorbed the blow and an incensed T’Challa reached and ripped the arm off entirely, grabbing him and slamming him against the car door.
Klaue giggled in a maniacal manner and stumbled to his feet. “You savages-” He was unable to finish his statement as T’Challa once again yanked him up, smashing his head into the vehicle, rendering the man unconscious.
As soon as she watched the body slump to the floor, Nala felt a burst of relief overcome her entire being.
They got him.
They finally got him.
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
Nala’s eyes fluttered open as she exhaled with her mouth closed, her senses taking in the warm body underneath hers and the feel of coarse fingertips rubbing up and down her bandaged arm.
The princess lifted her head to see her lover staring up at the ceiling. She smiled. “How long have I been out?”
He sighed. “Long enough for you to roll on top of me.”
She rolled her eyes. “You should be used to it by now.” Nala snuggled into him, his sound and sturdy heartbeat playing into her ear. It was no secret that Nala slept wild, a 100% guarantee that she would always end up practically on top of the king when morning came.
“I suppose so,” he chuckled, glancing down at her. “Thank you, Nala.”
She frowned and looked up at him. “For what?”
He paused. “Klaue…”
Her frown deepened as she detected the emotion in his voice. She knew that capturing the man who killed his father meant everything to him, but she’d yet (until now) hear just how grateful he was that the man was currently on his way with Okoye to Wakanda to answer for his vile crimes.
“You never have to thank me, T’Challa.” She pecked his bare chest. “I’d do anything for you.” That includes telling you the truth about Bunme. Finally….no matter how hard it’s going to be.
“Except allowing me to kill the boy?” He poked, half teasingly/half seriously, causing Nala to sigh into him.
“I know that Dumi has proved himself to be less than reliable, but….” She trailed off as she struggled to gather words. “You have to understand that he’s been with me ever since I was pregnant with Bunme. He’s been a good friend, a wonderful protector, and most importantly, the only positive male figure that she had.” A beat. “Up until you.”
“Exactly,” he stressed. “Bunme has no need for the boy: she has me now.”
“I know she does, and I love that, just as I love you for accepting her, but….you know that loyalty means everything to me, and I cannot just ignore almost 6 years of that.” A beat. “At least, give me a chance to talk to him. One last time.”
He shut his eyes and pushed his head back into the pillow. “I am not going to win this argument with you, am I?”
“Probably not,” she chewed on her bottom lip. “But-”
“What of testing?” He cut her off and she could instantly hear the irritation in his voice from her failure to acquiesce.
“What about testing?”
“If Bunme is developing another mutation, then don’t you think we should find out about it sooner than later?”
Nala rolled on her back and cut her eyes. “I told you before. My answer is no. Let it-”
“Manifest naturally?” He again interrupted, sitting up and looking down at her. “What if it is something that she cannot control? Shuri is currently working on a device that helps to inhibit-”
She snapped her head to look at him. “You wish to strip her of her powers?”
He sighed. “Of course not. I wish to help her-”
“She doesn’t need help, T’Challa, She’s fine.” Nala was growing frustrated. She wasn’t as educated in mutations as she would have liked, but she was 99.9% sure that Bunme’s “secondary mutation” was really inherited traits from her father.
T’Challa had passed down the powers of the Black Panther to his daughter.
“Look,” she shut her eyes and also sat up, her heart starting to rapidly beat. Maybe now was the best time to tell him, while they were on the subject of genetics and mutations. “We need to-”
T’Challa’s kimoyo beads started to chime, the king looking down. “It is Okoye.” She turned her eyes onto the sheets. “I must-”
“Go ahead.”
He shook his head before hitting a button. “What is it, Okoye? Now is not-”
“You need to get home now.”
Nala turned her gaze onto the projection emanating from his beads. She’d never heard Okoyo sound so jolted. “Why? What has-”
“It’s Klaue,” The general raised her voice, her eyes widening with alarming urgency. “He’s escaped.”
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
T’Challa and Y/N were on the first jet back to Wakanda, almost no words shared between the two. She could sense that he was in no mood to talk, and she knew not what to say to him. Truthfully speaking, they were both dumbfounded. Klaue had managed to escape.
Even worse, he’d killed two guards on his way “out” and stole their weapons.
Vibranium weapons.
How?
No one knew, but a dangerous and internationally wanted man was somewhere out in Wakanda.
Every second that he was unaccounted for marked a chance for an innocent life or lives to be lost.
T’Challa was irate as they finally arrived in Wakanda, the king storming into the throne room with Nala close behind.
“How the hell did this happen?” He barked, marching over to the window, hands on his hips. “I asked a question!”
Nala swallowed deeply as Erik came up to her. “What-”
“You need to get out of here,” he spoke with apprehension that she’d never seen before. “Now.”
“What?” She frowned, eyeing him from head to toe. “Why? I just got back, and where is Bun-”
“Damnit, Y/N, I’ll explain later, but right now-”
“My son,” Ramonda greeted with a solemn face as she entered the throne room, going directly to the middle of the floor. “I must speak with you. Immediately.”
“Not now, mama.” He waved her off, continuing to probe Okoye and Ayo who stood at her side for answers. “Later.”
“Fuck,” Erik’s eyes darkened. “I’m too late.”
Nala was officially and completely stumped. What was Erik going on about? Did it have something to do with Ramonda?
“T’Challa, it is imperative that I speak with you.” She stressed, walking over to him as the rest of the council members watched the scene unfold. “There are several things I must bring to your-”
“Mama, I said not-” T’Challa stopped when Ramonda lifted her wrist, a projection from her Kimoyo beads on full display.
Nala froze, her chest tightening and stomach dropping as she took in the visual in front of the group.
“Little Kitty, you have to share.” Bunme lightly scolded her pet panther while another rubbed at her side. “Besides, I love all my kitties!” She giggled throwing her hands up in the air as more panthers, larger ones walked over to her, all of them reacting calmly to the child.
“Is that the Panther Room?” Nala breathed, her eyes glued to the projection.
Erik looked over at her and dropped his head. He said nothing.
“Wh-” T’Challa’s eyes were wide and his breathing uneven as he slowly started to back away. “What is….”
“There is a reason that this child has taken to you and you to her,” Ramonda spoke with a haughty expression, her chin raised to the sky. “It is because she is your kin, your blood, your daughter.”
Loud gasps and low murmurs preceded a flow of questions.
“His daughter? How is this possible?”
“Why were we not made aware of that?”
“That means she is next in line for the throne.”
“King T-”
“Silence!” T’Challa shouted, all conversations immediately ceasing as he laid his eyes on Nala. Her heart stopped at the sight of his broken and devastated countenance. “She...she is my daughter?”
Her mouth dropped as she slowly moved closer to him. “T’Challa, please...I-I-I was going to tell you-”
“You were going to tell me?” He hissed, his body shaking from his mixture of emotions. “When, Y/N?” Silence. “ANSWER ME!”
Her eyes started to water. “Please, I can explain-”
“I asked you, Y/N.” His eyes were also misty as she dropped her head, tears burning in the back of her throat. “I asked you, and you lied. You’ve been lying-”
She shook her head, “It’s not-”
“T, you gotta hear her-” Erik went to step forward, but T’Challa shot him a shocked look before his eyes fell back on Y/N.
“Did he know?” He demanded as she started to cry. “Did he?!”
Her jaw trembled as she again stared at the floor. “Y-y-yyes.”
He closed his eyes and looked away, pulling his lips together. “You were wrong.”
She sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand. Her stomach was torn up, her heart feeling like it was about to explode. “T’Ch-”
“ALL OF YOU WERE WRONG!” His tone, the way he motioned around to everyone in that room, the tear that slipped from his eyes, the pain in his voice.
She truly wanted to die at that moment.
“I never meant to hurt you,” she fell to her knees, holding onto her core. “I never-” She couldn’t even get any logical words out.
“No,” Ramonda interjected with a cold face, returning her wrist to her side as the display disappeared. “You just meant to ruin him, to ruin us.”
“Ramonda, shut the f-” Erik hissed only to be cut off by the Queen Mother.
“She is no innocent woman.” Ramonda hissed, looking over at her son. “Ask her why she was so pressed on going with you to capture Klaue. Ask her of her personal connection with that man.”
“Be quiet, mama-”
“She is a spy, T’Challa.”
At that, Y/N forced herself to lift her head at Ramonda’s accusations. “What?”
“Sent here by her parents to see the fall of Wakanda’s king…..just as her parents did your father.”
Again, audible gasps.
T’Challa was a perfect combination of hurt and enraged. “W-w-what?”
“Ask her!” Ramonda shouted as Nala’s tears increased, prompting T’Challa to look at her, fear written all over his face.
“What is she talking about, Y/N?”
Nala continued to double over, her palms flat on the floor. She wanted to run, but she had no other option. She had to come clean, no time to wonder how Ramonda found out.
She had much bigger problems on her hands.
“My parents,” she spoke through heavy sobs. “They….they sent Klaue here.” She shook her head, holding her stomach with one arm. “They are the reason that your father is dead.”
T’Challa stepped back, regarding her with disbelief. “What are you…..how...I don’t….” He stammered, the king truly at a loss for words. “No….no.”
“She helped him escape!” The leader of the River Tribe shouted out.
“No!” Nala yelled back.
“It is why she wanted to go help capture him!”
“She’s been planning it all along!”
“She has deceived us!”
“Arrest her!”
“No!” Nala stumbled to her feet. “It’s not true!” She looked to T’Challa, ambling over to him. “You have to believe me.” She begged, gasping for breath. She felt like she was going to pass out. “I would nev-”
“How can I believe anything you say?” He hissed, taking her by surprise. She’d never heard him be so cold or seen him look at her with such….contempt. “You are a liar, and you….are just like your parents.” A beat. “You’re no better than them.”
Her heart broke right then and there.
“T’Challa, bro-” Again, Erik was cut off.
“Arrest her.”
“No,” she breathed in shock as two Doras came to seize her, each grabbing a wrist. “No!”
“T’Challa, come on!” Erik shouted, going over to intervene when two other Doras formed an ‘X’ to stop him. “This is insane!”
“Take her to the prison until I can decide her fate,” he continued, completely ignoring his cousin.
“T’Challa, please!” She wailed, almost falling to the floor, forcing the female guards to hold her up. “I’m innocent! I-I-love you!”
He turned his back on her.“Get her out of my sight.”
“T’Challa! Please!” She begged as she was dragged out of the throne room, literally crying and pleading for the man she loved to just look at her, to stare in her eyes to know that she was telling the truth, but he wouldn’t spare her a second guess.
Instead, she watched Erik as he struggled against the guards that were restraining him and Ayo who shared a look with Ramonda, both smirking in satisfaction.
She frowned in confusion. What?
However, she had little time to dwell on that as she was forced down the hallway, met with a familiar face who held a smug grin.
“Dumi?”
What the hell was he doing in the palace?
He said nothing, lifting his finger to his lips as he winked, similar to how Klaue had done the same thing back in Korea.
She watched with confusion as Dumi went to lift his shirt, her breath stopping as he revealed a black and red tattoo of a snake on top of a dragon’s head.
If not for the guards restraining her and continuing to force her down the hall, she would have fainted.
She would have recognized that tattoo anywhere. It was the symbol of the bane of Niganda’s existence, the group that tormented and killed so many innocent people, the terrorist group that haunted the dreams of millions.
The Zenzi.
Dumi was a member of the Zenzi.
A/N: Well.....ya’ll wanted him to find out.
I tried to tell you.
Be careful what you wish for.
Next chapter is even worse tbh...
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