think of her? She was my mate. Until I marked her with soulfire, there would be no peace, no restful sleep, no waking hour where the clawing need didn’t nearly drive me mad.
She demanded her keys again.
Fuck this.
I shoved her keys in my pocket, grabbed her, and flew up into the night. As soon as I cradled her in my arms, a sensation of serenity poured through my veins. Yes. I could deny it till doomsday, but there would be no peace, not until she was truly mine.
She nuzzled my neck, her lips brushing my skin. Desire, hot and instant, flared bright.
“Jessen.” I warned her to stop, wanting the opposite. The beast could only stand so much temptation. But she was drunk. I’d never take her like this. She didn’t know what she was doing.
Her whispered words shattered me. “Why do you haunt my dreams?” Soft lips pressed to my skin. “Why won’t you let go of me? Let me be?” Unbelievable. She only let herself say these things because of the alcohol. In the light of day with a clear mind, she’d never admit the truth.
Our hearts and bodies knew the inevitable end. Fate decreed it so. Our brains kept us apart, kept us playing this game of denial, convincing us we were in control, when we never were. She mirrored my own feelings when she mumbled against me, “My heart is breaking.”
I knew where her villa was. Not only had I seen it the first night, but I’d found myself flying far overhead the college campus more than once in the last three months. Feeling helpless, I needed to catch a glimpse of her to keep my beast caged.
Opening her balcony door with the keys, I placed her on the bed, removed her boots, and tucked her under the covers. She curled on her side, tears streaking her face.
“Sleep,” I commanded, touching the silken strands of black hair against the white pillow.
What I wouldn’t do to have her in my bed—to protect, possess, treasure. Forever.
The look of heartbreak on her face, eyes closed, made my gut clench in pain. I soothed her, soothed myself, combing fingers through her hair. The lines creasing her face slowly disappeared. When I thought she had finally drifted into sleep, her full lips pursed and whispered my name. “Lucius.”
My chest constricted. Never had my name sounded like a plea, a prayer, and a benediction all at once in such a mournful tone. With this one confession on sleepy lips, her subconscious gave me the answer I needed.
When she slept, I locked up and left, winging high above the clouds toward my home. Feeling the heavens press down, I made a decision. I must tell her who she was to me, who I was to her, whether she wanted to hear the truth or not. It had to be soon.
The United Charity Ball was next weekend. Yes. Then we would see whether Fate would have her way.
Chapter 7
“Thank you. Come again.”
My hangover finally subsiding, I could actually force myself to smile. I took the two plastic-wrapped dresses and steered Moira out the door.
“Here, I’ll hold them, Jessen. You still look pale.”
“Thanks, Muffin. Happy?”
“Yes!” She beamed, automatically lightening my sour mood. “My dress is beautiful. And yours is, too.”
Having Father’s credit card encouraged me to buy the two most expensive gowns I could find and outrageously pricey shoes to match. Petty revenge, but I was not above getting what little satisfaction I could.
“You deserve it.” I linked my arm with hers as we walked along the storefronts. “Hey. How about we get a cup of coffee together? And a piece of that double-chocolate cake you like.”
“Oh, yes. I’d love to.”
I steered her left, away from the car. Passing an accessory shop, I noticed a Morgon woman adjusting handbags in the display window. She glanced at us and smiled before resuming her work.
“Interesting, isn’t it.”
“What is, Moira?”
“Morgons working in human retail stores. My teacher said we’re in a progressive age where humans and Morgons must learn to work alongside
She demanded her keys again.
Fuck this.
I shoved her keys in my pocket, grabbed her, and flew up into the night. As soon as I cradled her in my arms, a sensation of serenity poured through my veins. Yes. I could deny it till doomsday, but there would be no peace, not until she was truly mine.
She nuzzled my neck, her lips brushing my skin. Desire, hot and instant, flared bright.
“Jessen.” I warned her to stop, wanting the opposite. The beast could only stand so much temptation. But she was drunk. I’d never take her like this. She didn’t know what she was doing.
Her whispered words shattered me. “Why do you haunt my dreams?” Soft lips pressed to my skin. “Why won’t you let go of me? Let me be?” Unbelievable. She only let herself say these things because of the alcohol. In the light of day with a clear mind, she’d never admit the truth.
Our hearts and bodies knew the inevitable end. Fate decreed it so. Our brains kept us apart, kept us playing this game of denial, convincing us we were in control, when we never were. She mirrored my own feelings when she mumbled against me, “My heart is breaking.”
I knew where her villa was. Not only had I seen it the first night, but I’d found myself flying far overhead the college campus more than once in the last three months. Feeling helpless, I needed to catch a glimpse of her to keep my beast caged.
Opening her balcony door with the keys, I placed her on the bed, removed her boots, and tucked her under the covers. She curled on her side, tears streaking her face.
“Sleep,” I commanded, touching the silken strands of black hair against the white pillow.
What I wouldn’t do to have her in my bed—to protect, possess, treasure. Forever.
The look of heartbreak on her face, eyes closed, made my gut clench in pain. I soothed her, soothed myself, combing fingers through her hair. The lines creasing her face slowly disappeared. When I thought she had finally drifted into sleep, her full lips pursed and whispered my name. “Lucius.”
My chest constricted. Never had my name sounded like a plea, a prayer, and a benediction all at once in such a mournful tone. With this one confession on sleepy lips, her subconscious gave me the answer I needed.
When she slept, I locked up and left, winging high above the clouds toward my home. Feeling the heavens press down, I made a decision. I must tell her who she was to me, who I was to her, whether she wanted to hear the truth or not. It had to be soon.
The United Charity Ball was next weekend. Yes. Then we would see whether Fate would have her way.
Chapter 7
“Thank you. Come again.”
My hangover finally subsiding, I could actually force myself to smile. I took the two plastic-wrapped dresses and steered Moira out the door.
“Here, I’ll hold them, Jessen. You still look pale.”
“Thanks, Muffin. Happy?”
“Yes!” She beamed, automatically lightening my sour mood. “My dress is beautiful. And yours is, too.”
Having Father’s credit card encouraged me to buy the two most expensive gowns I could find and outrageously pricey shoes to match. Petty revenge, but I was not above getting what little satisfaction I could.
“You deserve it.” I linked my arm with hers as we walked along the storefronts. “Hey. How about we get a cup of coffee together? And a piece of that double-chocolate cake you like.”
“Oh, yes. I’d love to.”
I steered her left, away from the car. Passing an accessory shop, I noticed a Morgon woman adjusting handbags in the display window. She glanced at us and smiled before resuming her work.
“Interesting, isn’t it.”
“What is, Moira?”
“Morgons working in human retail stores. My teacher said we’re in a progressive age where humans and Morgons must learn to work alongside
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