stroked her breast. Plumping it up,
he bit gently at its nipple. “Nothing. But the powers locked inside the Mystics
are only manifested in their male children when the father is a royal.”
“And what happens to a royal when the mother isn’t a
Mystic?”
“Depends on the purity and percentage of Mystic blood passed
down from his fraternal grandmother. Either way, the powers, which were already
splintered, are greatly diminished even more.
“Was your mother a Mystic?”
“Half.”
“Oh my God. We’re related?”
“No. My mother was from a different line than yours. That’s
taken into consideration, among other things, by the Prophets when they choose
a match. In Ilyria, when a man and a woman complete The Matching Ritual, they
are bound together for life.”
He paused to kiss around the side of her breast to the
underside.
“So it’s only to release these powers that we were matched?”
“There are other reasons.” He rolled her nipple between his
fingers and she let out a small mewl of pleasure. “But right now, what you need
to understand is you were, and are, matched to me.”
The last of his words broke through the blood-pounding need
he had created by teasing her breast. They resonated through her with what felt
terrifyingly close to truth.
Something deep in her subconscious stirred, making her want
to believe him, but there were too many impossibilities, unanswered questions.
His story didn’t fit her conception of reality. A reality that involved working
at the local bar and saving money for another semester at college where her
advisor, after taking one look at her transcripts, had told her to get off the
smorgasbord plan and pick a major. In fact, she had taken off this semester to
decide exactly what she wanted to do with her life. Running away with a
delusional foreigner who beat up strange-looking men in alleys was not at the
top of her list.
“I don’t believe you.”
He dropped a kiss on her chin. “You will.”
“You say that like you’re sticking around. What if I don’t
give you that option?”
His eyes hardened, and behind them, she saw a very scary
look of resolve settle into place. She had seen that look before. Right before
he fucked her against her front door.
“Your life is in danger. If I hadn’t been with you at the
café, Enath would have had you halfway back to Ilyria by now.”
“First, I always thought Ilyria was my mother’s name, not a
place—which by the way, I’ve never heard of. And second, the difference between
going with you versus going with Enath would be what?”
“My purpose is to protect you. Enath’s primary purpose is to
force you back any way possible, and keep you hostage for breeding. It’s a very
painful process for the woman when forced to conceive by someone other than her
matched mate. If he can’t get you back to Ilyria, he will try to kill you.”
“Kill me?” The words squeaked past the obstruction fear had
lodged in her throat. She took a deep breath, reminded herself that this man,
as sincere as he appeared, was quite possibly crazy, and forced herself to
speak in a more normal voice. Hard to do with a gorgeous, naked man on top of
you talking about breeding, pain and killing. “Why would he want to kill me?”
“The Sleht are our ancient enemies. A cruel, brutal and base
race that will stop at nothing to gain control of our land. Their evil was
controlled when we held our full power. But as the Ilyrian strength declined,
the Sleht’s increased. Enath is one of their soldiers bred for Mystic
retrieval.”
“Bred?”
“Yes. Specifically to track and abduct Ilyrian females who
carry the Mystic bloodline. The Sleht don’t want the prophecy to come to pass
because when it does, they’ll be crushed like vermin. But the prophecy can’t be
fulfilled if there are no Mystics left to marry into the royal line.”
She blinked hard. And again. And struggled to swallow. She
tried not to believe him. Really, really
he bit gently at its nipple. “Nothing. But the powers locked inside the Mystics
are only manifested in their male children when the father is a royal.”
“And what happens to a royal when the mother isn’t a
Mystic?”
“Depends on the purity and percentage of Mystic blood passed
down from his fraternal grandmother. Either way, the powers, which were already
splintered, are greatly diminished even more.
“Was your mother a Mystic?”
“Half.”
“Oh my God. We’re related?”
“No. My mother was from a different line than yours. That’s
taken into consideration, among other things, by the Prophets when they choose
a match. In Ilyria, when a man and a woman complete The Matching Ritual, they
are bound together for life.”
He paused to kiss around the side of her breast to the
underside.
“So it’s only to release these powers that we were matched?”
“There are other reasons.” He rolled her nipple between his
fingers and she let out a small mewl of pleasure. “But right now, what you need
to understand is you were, and are, matched to me.”
The last of his words broke through the blood-pounding need
he had created by teasing her breast. They resonated through her with what felt
terrifyingly close to truth.
Something deep in her subconscious stirred, making her want
to believe him, but there were too many impossibilities, unanswered questions.
His story didn’t fit her conception of reality. A reality that involved working
at the local bar and saving money for another semester at college where her
advisor, after taking one look at her transcripts, had told her to get off the
smorgasbord plan and pick a major. In fact, she had taken off this semester to
decide exactly what she wanted to do with her life. Running away with a
delusional foreigner who beat up strange-looking men in alleys was not at the
top of her list.
“I don’t believe you.”
He dropped a kiss on her chin. “You will.”
“You say that like you’re sticking around. What if I don’t
give you that option?”
His eyes hardened, and behind them, she saw a very scary
look of resolve settle into place. She had seen that look before. Right before
he fucked her against her front door.
“Your life is in danger. If I hadn’t been with you at the
café, Enath would have had you halfway back to Ilyria by now.”
“First, I always thought Ilyria was my mother’s name, not a
place—which by the way, I’ve never heard of. And second, the difference between
going with you versus going with Enath would be what?”
“My purpose is to protect you. Enath’s primary purpose is to
force you back any way possible, and keep you hostage for breeding. It’s a very
painful process for the woman when forced to conceive by someone other than her
matched mate. If he can’t get you back to Ilyria, he will try to kill you.”
“Kill me?” The words squeaked past the obstruction fear had
lodged in her throat. She took a deep breath, reminded herself that this man,
as sincere as he appeared, was quite possibly crazy, and forced herself to
speak in a more normal voice. Hard to do with a gorgeous, naked man on top of
you talking about breeding, pain and killing. “Why would he want to kill me?”
“The Sleht are our ancient enemies. A cruel, brutal and base
race that will stop at nothing to gain control of our land. Their evil was
controlled when we held our full power. But as the Ilyrian strength declined,
the Sleht’s increased. Enath is one of their soldiers bred for Mystic
retrieval.”
“Bred?”
“Yes. Specifically to track and abduct Ilyrian females who
carry the Mystic bloodline. The Sleht don’t want the prophecy to come to pass
because when it does, they’ll be crushed like vermin. But the prophecy can’t be
fulfilled if there are no Mystics left to marry into the royal line.”
She blinked hard. And again. And struggled to swallow. She
tried not to believe him. Really, really
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