Dreamfever (Fever #4)

by Karen Marie Moning

I stepped toward Barrons. His dark gaze glittered with triumph. I could feel the smugness rolling off him, nearly as strong as the sexual charge he was throwing my way. “Think hard and fast,” V’lane hissed. “It would be unwise to alienate me, MacKayla.” I was thinking hard and fast. I closed my hand around Barrons’ forearm. He could not have looked more pleased if I’d just gazed up at him with doe eyes and told him he was my world. I locked my hand down, dug my nails into his flesh, and held on. His eyes narrowed, then flared, and then I was no longer seeing him at all, because I’d pushed, pushed, pushed violently, stabbed myself brutally deep into his mind with the special sidhe-seer talent that had fully wakened in his bed. I wanted answers. I wanted to know why there was so much animosity between these two. I wanted to know who to trust, who was not the better man but at least the slightly less-bad one.