She scented his blood and knew that Vesta and Tibor had hurt him. They’d tortured him.
She curled her hands into fists. She was surprised at the anger that raked through her.
“You saved my life.” He stretched out his legs.
His hands hung loose between his thighs. His dark hair was matted and flowed to his shoulders. His face was in shadow, and she could just make out the cleft in his chin.
His eyelids were hooded, and he watched her with a deliberate intensity. Little pinpricks of heat danced over her skin.
He wasn’t scared of the Elysians, he’d been defiant to them. Yet it felt like he was trying to control himself.
He didn’t quite succeed in reining in that seductive energy that pulsed around him. It called out to her.
Something about this man tugged at her, asked her to move closer to him.
Her nerve ends tingled. “I felt your distress. I had to help.” She brushed her fingers against the stone floor. “I would have done the same for anyone else.”
He tilted his head. “I’ve heard of the empaths among the Elysians. Never thought they actually existed.” His eyes glittered.
The force of his dominance pulsed with a raw energy that weighed down on her chest and made it difficult to breathe.
“I’m as much of a myth as the gladiators in the underground fighting pits.” She raised her chin, her voice tart.
His features froze, his shoulders bunched, and the tendons of his neck stood out in relief.
Too late she realized her mistake—she’d revealed that she knew of his past. She bit the inside of her cheek. “Your scars.” She raked her gaze across his chest to where a sliver of scars from older wounds crisscrossed the skin. “It wasn’t difficult to guess.” Her pulse thudded.
He touched a finger to his forehead in mock salute.
Her legs wobbled with relief.
He wasn’t going to use the force of his personality to override her will. She sensed a gentleness to him. He wouldn’t hurt her.
All her life she’d obeyed her clan. Her every need was taken care of, as long as she kept the Sian Web flush with emotions. Why was it that she felt compelled to stand up for his man?
“If you are one of the Elysians, why are they holding you here?” His back straightened, and he bent one leg.
Her gaze flicked to his face. There was only polite curiosity in those heavy-lidded eyes.
“For most Elysians, a chemical imbalance in their brains means that their logical nature overrides all emotion. However, each generation, a few hundred empaths are born who are highly emotional.” Her voice was low.
“Like you?” He touched his fingertips together.
She dropped her head and nodded. “We function as emotional anchors for the Sian Web.” She swallowed, her throat gone dry.
“How does that work?” The man leaned forward and rested his elbow on his bent knee.
A shiver of awareness skittered down her spine. It was as if he’d reached out across the space and touched her.
“I share my emotions with the Sian Web and balance out the collective consciousness.” It was also why she’d learned to shield herself, so she could still hide away that secret part of herself from the world. “Me and the other empaths keep the Web flushed with feelings and help the other Elysians connect with themselves.”
“What happens if you leave the Web?”
She arched her neck. “I need to flush my extra emotions from my mind into the shared network.”
“You need the other Elysians as much as they need you?” His eyes gleamed.
She was surprised by his flash of insight.
This man was intelligent.
A sick feeling coiled in the pit of her stomach. She had to be careful what she shared, lest he figure out her real intentions.
Pain shimmered from him, and he grimaced.
She very much wanted to go to him and soothe him, which was strange.
She was wary of people, had few friends, even among her own race. It was a means of self-preservation really.
But with this man, she wanted to share everything. Her past, her future…the reason why she was there.
She should get out of there before she got entangled in something she couldn’t control.
She turned away, her movements slow, and brought her knees up in a gesture that mirrored his. Sliding her arms around herself to keep what warmth she could inside her, she curled up in a ball.
“Do you also often reach out to random men, slip into their minds, and tell them to fight?” There was an edge of dry humor to his voice.
It set off little sparks of yearning low in her belly. She wanted to see him laugh, push aside that rough exterior, and reveal that lazy, sensuality that thrummed inside.
“Not everyone,” she forced out the words, her voice still rusty.
“Just broken men who may not make it through the night?” A breath whistled out of him. His shoulders shook.
Vesta’s attempt to break through his psychic shield had hurt him more than he was letting on.
“If they break me, they can control my beast. I’d only end up harming those around me.” He raised the heels of his palms to his eyes and pressed against them.
The gesture was one of such vulnerability, it twisted her heart.
“I won’t let them hurt you.” The words slipped out before she could stop herself. She meant it, though. She wasn’t going to let him die.
He dropped his hands to his sides. “You lie as easily as you sense people’s emotions?” The slow humor was back in his voice.
Her skin tingled. “As an empath, I can’t lie. The emotions would show on my face if I did.” She was telling him secrets that only those within the empath community knew.
“Does your face always reflect what you are thinking?” His lips twisted in a smirk.
Her cheeks flushed. Her skin felt like it was on fire. She touched her hand to her throat. He only had to look at her to make her insides churn.
She pulled her hair back, weaving it into a braid, and felt a little more in control.
His gaze followed her movements. “Why should I believe you?” The humor was gone; his tone was stark.
Her fingers trembled, and sweat pooled in her armpits. She had to show him she was genuine in what she’d said.
Completing her task, she crossed her legs, clasping her fingers in front of her. “Because I can see what you are, better than you can see yourself.” She peered up at him from under her eyelashes. Had she said too much?
His jaw firmed. “What am I?”
The full brunt of that piercing gaze slammed into her. Blue eyes, so calm on the surface yet burning with an intensity that would sear her. Eyes that looked right into her soul.
He would strip aside all the barriers she’d built and read her deepest secrets. There was no hiding from this man.
She forced herself to speak. “You are a shifter of such power that when you finally reveal the force inside you, no one will be able to stop you.”
He pressed his shoulders into the wall and bounced his bent knee, his movements jerky.
She tucked a strand of hair that had come loose behind her ear. She sensed a hurt inside him, a confusion and longing, all of which tore through her defenses. The empath in her pushed against her skin, wanting to reach out to him.
She had been sent to lure him to mate with her, but his energy resonated with her. She couldn’t hurt him.
His forehead furrowed. He angled his head, his eyes bright with unsaid emotions.
She sensed a depth to him that intrigued her. She wanted to find out more about him.
His psychic scent drew her.
Her spirit yearned to reach out to his dragon, to soothe the anger and the churning need that emanated from his beast.
Something about this man made her feel complete. She wanted to wrap herself around him and merge her spirit with his. It was as if she had been waiting for him all this while.
A nerve at
his temple throbbed. His jaw clenched.
There was a rawness to his spirit, like he was looking for a safe harbor. He needed her in a way no one else had before or would again.
He was her mate.
Her heart raced. Her legs felt weak. How was that possible? Empaths never mated. Besides, she was here to form a bond with him so the Elysians could drain him of his emotions.
His lips tightened. “You okay?”
She heard his voice as if from a distance. It felt like fate was toying with her. This shifter was her true mate. But if she mated with him, the Elysians would use the bond to break through his shields and control his mind.
In all likelihood, her empathic senses wouldn’t be able to take the psychic impact of the mating and she would die.
If she didn’t mate him, her brother would die.
She couldn’t abandon Bran.
There was also no way she was going to send her mate to his death.
She hadn’t found him only to lose him.
“You have to survive so the rest of us can live.” She rose to her feet.
His movements stilled. He thrust out his chest. His eyebrows furrowed.
She had to win his trust, fast, so she could complete what she had been sent to do. So she could claim him as her own. She paused and raised her hands, palms up. “Let me help you.”
4
Rage
Her eyes were silver with flecks of green and fringed with dark lashes. Her cheekbones slashed high, and the hollows underneath lent a fragile look to her, ending in a chin that was thrust out.
It hinted at a hidden strength inside her.
Hands still held up, she took a step forward. Her back was stiff. She was treating him like she would a wounded animal. She was right to be wary.
A slim chain hugged one of her ankles, and the muscles of her calves rippled. The sarong parted to show a glimpse of her smooth thighs.
He wanted to run his fingers over the curve where her waist met her flared hips. To bury his face between those thighs and inhale the scent of her from that secret hollow at the apex her legs.
Heat tugged his groin. The twisted creature inside him was still. Her presence aroused and soothed him. “Who are you?”
She rubbed her palm against the cloth over her thighs. “Pandora.”
Her voice was lyrical, like the water that bubbled up from an underground stream.
Gliding forward, she stopped just shy of him.
Reaching down to where the sarong parted at her thighs, she gripped the fabric and tore out a strip. When she straightened, her sarong pulled tight across her breasts. Her nipples were outlined through the material.
Desire flared hot and hard.
Her breath hitched, and her chest rose and fell.
He couldn’t take his eyes off the curves of her breasts. He was shocked to find himself grow erect. She was just so different from any other woman he’d seen. Something about her called out to him. He wanted to gather her close and feel his skin slide over hers.
She dropped to sit cross-legged and took his arm.
A shudder ran through him. The scent of jasmine curled around him, tugged at him. She confused him, made him want things he’d never thought he could have.
She inhaled, the sound sharp in the silence that had crept between them.
He wasn’t the only one affected.
“Why are you here?” He clenched his jaw.
“My fellow empaths have been dying over the past year, leading to an imbalance of emotions in the Sian Web.” Her fingers trembled as she bound the cloth around the wound on his arm. “When Tibor overthrew Zach, he forced many of the empaths to share more than what was healthy for them, leading to many dying. Most dropped out of the Web completely and vanished. I tried to escape, but they caught me—”
“Did they hurt you?” The creature inside him snarled. It urged him to reach out and touch her cheek. The thought of anyone harming her made his heart thud against his ribs.
Her eyes refused to meet his. She wasn’t telling him everything.
Tying the dressing around his arm, she sat back. “They need my empathic skills. They didn’t hurt me, not physically.”
So they had hurt her in ways that she wasn’t willing to share. He tightened his fingers into fists. His muscles quivered with the need to gather her close and soothe her.
She gripped his unhurt arm. “You, on the other hand, they want to break.”
The urgency in her voice made his beast strain to get closer.
Her very presence made his heart beat faster. Made him feel something other than this anger that twisted his insides.
Letting go of his arm, she locked her fingers together in front, her stance almost prayer-like.
He bridged the gap between them. His breath raised the hair on her head.
She tucked her elbows into her sides. The subtle scent of musk laced the air. She was attracted to him.
Taking the strap of the vest she wore below the sarong that had slipped off her shoulder, he tugged it back into place.
Her pupils dilated, the silver bleeding out until they resembled clear sheets of glass. Goosebumps rose on her skin.
He had to swallow to clear the ball of emotion that clogged his throat. It felt like his skin was burning up. “Rage.” His voice came out husky.
She shook her head. “What?”
“That’s my name.” It felt important that she knew who he was. That he was not just another shifter. He wanted to be so much more for her.
The tension in the enclosed space shot up. The chemistry between them bubbled with unsaid emotions.
“Rage.” She rolled her tongue around his name, softening the vowels.
He couldn’t take his gaze off her mouth. How would it be to taste them? He wanted to capture it with his and thrust his tongue inside her mouth and drink from her. She would nourish him. She would fill that yearning inside him, an emptiness he’d carried for so long it had become a part of him.
Her eyes widened.
Could she hear his thoughts? “What other abilities do empaths have?”
Her cheeks flushed. “I can sense your feelings; it’s in my nature to do so instinctively. Even though I have learned to shield myself, sometimes I just pick them up.” She wound her braid around her palm. “Especially if the other person is experiencing an intense emotion.” She licked her lips.
He couldn’t take his gaze off the glistening flesh. He knew he was staring but couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to gather her close and lose himself in her softness. She would soothe the beast that churned and tore him apart from inside. Why did she feel so much like home?
The muscles of his stomach tensed, and he forced himself to relax. “Can you read minds?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I couldn’t stop myself from pushing you to fight on the psychic plane. But I wouldn’t just barge into your head and read your thoughts.” She peered at him from below her lashes. “Not unless you ask me to.”
“I’m asking you. Now.” He wasn’t sure why he was inviting her into his head. Perhaps he wanted her to see exactly how much ugliness he was capable of. She was so fragile, so sensitive, everything he wasn’t. Everything he wanted.
She wanted him, too; there was no mistaking that she was turned on. He had to put an end to this insane attraction that simmered between them.
He had to scare her away before he hurt her.
She raised her palms faceup and looked at him.
He nodded.
There was a flutter of air over his skin. She moved closer and placed her palms on his chest.
Her touch arrowed straight to his gut. His belly twitched. His throat went dry, but he didn’t move.
“You’ve been hurt.” She swallowed, her fingers twitching against his skin.
“I fought to survive.” He’d done what he had in the fighting pits to live. He wondered if he’d won all those brawls just so he could meet her.
“So much pain,” she whispered
. Her eyelashes fluttered.
Liquid heat bled from her touch. It was laced with a gentleness that caught him by surprise.
In all these years of just trying to stay alive, it was the first time he’d wanted more. He wanted her.
He snaked his hand out and latched on to her wrist.
5
Pandora
The breath rushed out of her. His fingers were a shackle holding her down.
She should tug her hand from his grasp.
When he slid his fingers down her forearm, she shivered.
The slide of his skin against hers sparked little pulses of need inside.
He leaned in close.
She could make out the lines that fanned out from his eyes. The blue of his irises darkened to a deep cyan.
The force of his dominance was a physical presence that slammed into her chest.
She gasped, her cheeks flushed. She gnawed at her lower lip.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. The energy of his dragon leaped off him, surrounding her, holding her captive.
Her throat closed. She didn’t dare swallow. Didn’t dare make any move that would break the chemistry vibrating between them. She should resist him.
Instead, with an instinct born of the empath she was, she gave in. The only way to hold her own in this battle of wills was to take him by surprise.
She lowered the psychic barrier in her mind and reached out to him. “Let me help you.”
His jaw clenched. “You don’t know what I have seen, the number of men I have killed.” A nerve jumped to life at his temple. “If you knew the violence I was capable of, you wouldn’t be trusting enough to sit so close to me.”
“All I see is a man who’s known only pain for so long, he’s forgotten who he is.” On the psychic plane her silver-green energy darted toward him.
Flowing through the psychic shield she had helped form, she twined with the glowing red orb that was his beast.
His shoulders tensed, and he let go of her arm. “What are you doing?” His face paled.
“I’m reassuring your beast, showing him that he is not alone anymore.” Her voice shook.
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