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blades and the garrotte he
always carried went into another locked chest.
    He never worried about concealing his arsenal with clothing. He
could cover them all with the shadows he called to himself, hiding the
tell-tale bulges and outlines.
    He stripped off his clothes then padded barefoot into the bathroom, twisting
on the taps in the shower. The hot water quickly filled the room with steam. Korvain
dragged deep lungfuls of the stuff in through his nose, shaking off the tension
in his shoulders and back.
    Tonight had been good. He’d gotten into the club and managed to make
Bryn trust him by pulling the sniffer dog routine. Tipping his head back, he let
the spray soak through his hair; the water’s scalding fingers running down his
face and along his neck. Alone with his thoughts, he ran through the plan once
more.
    He’d already known the layout of the club from Adrian before he got
the invite, so no other recon was completely necessary. Plus he’d made contact
with Bryn and managed to gain her trust. That hadn’t been part of the plan—just
a bonus. If things continued on the way they were, he would have her blood on
his hands and ten years off his contract sooner than he’d anticipated. He
grinned, knowing how sweet that was going to be.
    Korvain turned off the water and stepped out onto the white tile,
wrapping a towel around his waist while another went through his wet hair.
Dumping the smaller towel, he wandered out into his bedroom, letting his skin
dry in the air.  
    Pulling on a pair of sweats, he left his chest bare and stretched
out on top of the sheets. He relaxed his body, closing his eyes, and thought
about Bryn. In his mind, he saw her dual-toned eyes, her alabaster skin. He
smelled the shampoo she used, the scent of her skin.
    He thought she’d be in her office still, having fallen asleep while
doing that oh so important paperwork, but when he entered her dream, her body
was tangled up in the sheets of her bed as if she’d been unsettled before
finally drifting off.
    Bryn’s lean legs were splayed, the sheets pooling in the depression
between her thighs. The long expanse of her naked skin held his attention for
longer than it should have. His body stirred at the thought of what was being
hidden from him.
    Forcing his eyes to keep moving, they trailed up her lean body to her
face. Her braid had been taken out, her honey-blonde hair—kinked from being
restrained all day—was fanned out on her pillow; a halo of gold.
    Korvain approached her slowly, his bare feet soundless on the
thick-piled carpet. He was still a few feet from her bed, but he could smell
that fresh sweet smell of gardenia on her skin.
    Her deep, even breaths filled the air. He paced his with hers,
drawing in deeply, filling his lungs with that sweet temptation.
    Bryn’s eyes began to flutter open. She inhaled deeply, her eyes
cracking wider as she had no doubt caught his scent. He knew the exact moment
when she realized she wasn’t alone. Her whole body became rigid, her hand
getting closer to her neck, but not yet touching the tattoo.
    ‘Who’s there?’ she asked, eyes darting around the darkness. He
remained silent. Watching her hauntingly beautiful eyes pierced something
inside of him, some long forgotten part of himself. ‘Korvain?’ she asked, her
voice soft, cracking just a little.
    He remained where he was. Frowning, she ran a hand through her long
hair and lay back down again, forcing her body to relax.
    Sleep. His command was whispered
directly into her subconscious. Bryn obeyed, her eyelids drooping slowly, her
breathing levelling out. He had done enough. She would wake up wondering
whether his visit to her had been real, whether he had actually been in her
room.
    The answer was both yes and no. The dream realm was real when he was
the one manipulating it. She would remember the encounter, but still try to
pass it off as a side effect of an overactive imagination.
    Korvain left her to sleep’s drugging influence and