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He could’ve sworn a light sparked in Sascha’s night-sky eyes, a light that spoke of a challenge accepted. The panther inside him growled softly in response.
He could’ve sworn a light sparked in Sascha’s night-sky eyes, a light that spoke of a challenge accepted. The panther inside him growled softly in response.
Both man and beast found Sascha Duncan captivating in a way that neither could understand. Part of him wanted to stroke her . . . and part of him wanted to bite.
Both man and beast found Sascha Duncan captivating in a way that neither could understand. Part of him wanted to stroke her . . . and part of him wanted to bite.
“We don’t share well.” Lucas was the worst of the lot. What was his, was his.
Because I’m broken. And the Psy don’t allow broken creatures to live.
Unused to sensation, she was close to becoming a slave to it,
He leaned down and nipped at her lower lip with those sharp predatory teeth. Marking her.
It was then she’d realized that, for the first time in her life, she wanted something else even more than she wanted to belong. If only for a moment, if only for a second, she wanted to be loved.
Only one thing was certain—he was keeping her.
Relief almost broke him and it was then that the last pieces of understanding shoved through to his conscious mind. Of course Sascha smelled of him—she was his.
Sascha had somehow become firmly lodged inside him, a vibrant presence in the heart of hearts where only a mate could go.
“I wish I’d been born in another time, another place. Then maybe I could’ve escaped fate . . . maybe I could’ve been your darling.”
He knew she was going to put herself in danger and it infuriated him that he had no right to stop her. The beast in him growled, wanting those rights. The human half didn’t disagree. He’d had it with trying to be civilized. Sascha Duncan was about to be marked.
“Mine.” That absolute statement was the last word he said in a long, long while.
“Our bodies and hearts recognize yours. We know you’re one of us.”
Sascha laughed and both men turned to look at her, their beasts fascinated by the purity of the sound. It was, Lucas realized, the first time he’d ever heard her laugh. The possessive need in him tightened to the most aching kind of tenderness. She meant more to him than she’d ever know. If she died, so would his heart.
Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his, wishing for just another hour, another minute, another lifetime. “Thank you for teaching me how to live.”
For one instant, their minds were one and he saw how desperately, how wildly, how unreasonably she loved him—enough to break a promise, to choose death so he could live.
