“Kean,” she whispered back, one arm lifting to encircle his neck. It drew him closer to her, and their mouths crushed together, instantly finding the same rhythm that had overtaken them that night in the hotel room. It was like breathing, kissing Dhara. So natural. So necessary. So instinctive. Her mouth was warm, soft, and yielding, and before Kean knew it, his arms were around her, dragging her toward him.
They were tangled together, the console a frustrating but surmountable obstacle as they struggled to press their bodies closer together. His mouth trailed a hot line down her neck, suckling at the nape and eliciting a moan from her as her fingers tangled in his hair. Her nails scratched at his scalp, and it sent such powerful shudders down his spine that he clutched her against him with too much force.
“Ow!” Dhara suddenly said, wincing away from him. “Kean…be careful …”
He let go of her in an instant, despite the fact that his hands immediately longed to touch her again. All the way on his side of the car, breathing heavily, he looked at her, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
Dhara was rubbing her ribcage, no doubt trying to ease the soreness that his superhuman strength had caused. “Yes…” she said, sounding uncertain. “Yes, I’m fine. It mainly just surprised me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, ache in his throat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. You just…I lose control with you so easily.”
“What do you mean you lose control?”
He shook his head, still having no words that would explain it to her without telling her everything. This was just one more reminder—one he had clearly needed—that nothing between he and Dhara could ever be normal. No woman who he had slept with had ever had this effect on him. With just the softest sound of pleasure or the simplest kisses, she completely undid him and made him lose control of himself.
It wasn’t just because of his own heart or his secret that he needed to keep his distance form her. It was for her own safety as well.
“Kean, it’s not a big deal,” Dhara said gently, reaching a hand out to touch his arm.
He pulled away from her, not meeting her eyes. “It is. I never want to hurt you, Dhara, but I’m going to, no matter how careful I am or how much I try to protect you.”
“You just squeezed too hard. That’s all.”
He did look at her this time. “It’s more than that. You have feelings for me, like I have for you. And if we keep doing this, both of our hearts are going to get broken.”
“What if mine’s already breaking?”
Dhara’s eyes were so wide and vulnerable as she stared across the car at him, clearly confused and apprehensive, but not willing to let go of him either. That kind of devotion was so sweet, coming from her, that it made Kean want to transition, sweep her onto his back, and fly her somewhere far away where they could start their own life together and forget all of the reasons they couldn’t be together.
But that was impossible, and he needed to block those kinds of thoughts from his mind permanently. Which meant he couldn’t keep sitting here in this car with her, alone, needy, and tempted.
“Screw the rain,” Kean muttered, turning and slamming his door open, the storm immediately pouring into his car, soaking his jeans, and tearing at his long hair. “Let’s go.”
“Kean!”
“Come on,” he said, gesturing for her to get out on her side as he slammed his own door shut.
She did get out, the rain drenching her blouse and making it cling to her ample curves in ways that did unimaginable things to his body. He refused to acknowledge his desire, dragging her far away enough from the car that she wouldn’t get hurt. Then he turned back to the car, crouched down on the far side of it, gripped the undercarriage, and hauled it off of the dirt road and into the trees where it would hardly be noticed and wouldn’t be an obstacle to anyone else coming through.
Dhara stared at him, jaw open, eyes wide, but he didn’t offer an explanation. She clearly already knew that he had unusual strength, given the fact that she’d just felt it crushing her ribcage, so he wasn’t giving her any information she didn’t already have. He was just demonstrating it.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand. “I can’t sit around here anymore, waiting. If I don’t do something, I’ll go crazy. Or jump you. Neither of those have good outcomes.”
“But—”
He interrupted her, sweeping her up into his arms and swinging her behind him so that she was riding his back. “Just hold on,” he said, his arms reaching around her legs and keeping her tucked against him.
As soon as she was situated, her arms clinging around his neck, Kean took off, running through the forest as the wind whipped at him, the rain soaked through his clothes, and the cold bit at his skin. It was only a ten-minute jog, at the speed he was running, to get to the mystic’s house, and he couldn’t wait any longer.
Not without going mad.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dhara
It was like something out of a dream, riding on Kean’s back, her legs locked around his waist, her arms locked around his neck, and her head ducked behind his to shield her face from the piercing rain. She couldn’t tell if her perceptions were just off or if he was running faster than any human should be able to. The trees whipped past them so quickly that her eyes, peeking out from under her plastered hair, barely had time to focus on them before they were gone and the sounds of Kean’s footfalls were so rapid that they all blended together behind the roar of the rain.
Although Dhara knew she should be terrified, all she felt was excitement and an arousal so intense that it surpassed anything she’d felt before. He was so powerful beneath her, his body thudding up against hers each time he planted his foot down into the swampy mud. Though just minutes ago, his strength had intimidated her as he clutched her so hard against him that she’d wondered if bruises would form, now it thrilled her, and she couldn’t help but press her lips to the heat of his neck, her legs clenching closer around him.
A growl reached her ears, escaping his lips. “Dhara,” he warned in a low voice. “Don’t. I will lay you down right here in the mud if you do, and I can’t do that.”
It amazed her that he wasn’t the least bit out of breath, even though they were still flying on foot through the forest, her full weight on his back. Her hands dragged down his chest and up over his arms as she grew more confident that her position was secure. “I can’t help it,” she told him.
“Try harder,” he said, almost pleading with her.
She tried to be good, closing her eyes and concentrating solely on the vibration of his body against hers. It moved through her, building a tension low in her core that promised to bring her some relief from the desire she felt, but then Kean stopped suddenly, bringing himself up so sharply that Dhara almost flew over his head.
“Whoa,” he said, grabbing her and holding her in place. “Careful there.”
The abrupt halt interrupted the pleasure that had been building and left Dhara disappointed and needy as she slid down from Kean’s back and looked in front of them to see a small cottage set away from the main road.
“That’s Leitheia’s house,” Kean told her, taking her hand and pulling her around in front of him.
She grunted a response, still suffering through her disappointment, her body aching for just a bit more to send her over the edge.
Kean hugged her from behind, chuckling low in her ear. “So close?”
He had known! Dhara elbowed him, pulling away, but he yanked her back to him, pinning her back against his chest as his other arm snaked around her waist. With no warning, he bit gently on her earlobe, then pressed his fingers to the pulsing heat of her core, and Dhara fell over the edge, hitting the peak she had been working for as she went limp in his arms.
He held her as she rode out the high, kissing her neck softly, then, when her shudders had ceased as she’d regained her legs, he slid his arms from her. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he told her
, looking into her eyes as he moved in front of her. “But I’m not a cruel man. I couldn’t leave you in that state.”
Then, without another word, just a ghost of a smile, he walked up to the front door and knocked, leaving Dhara just moments to fully catch her breath. Her head was spinning, the heat between them as fiery as ever. When she had climaxed, she had felt him brace himself, felt the energy that had flowed between them, and felt something that she couldn’t identify but wanted to explore further.
He might want to believe that they could ignore what was happening between them, but more and more, Dhara knew that they couldn’t. Not when it was like this.
“Dhara, come meet Leitheia,” Kean said, forcing Dhara to put her desires aside and walk forward, smiling at the wizened old woman like she hadn’t just been brought to climax in the middle of a rainstorm standing up in a forest clearing.
“Hello,” Dhara said, nodding politely to Leitheia, taking in the woman’s wrinkled face, beady eyes, and wide smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dhara.”
Leitheia held out her hand in a royal gesture, closing her eyes as though Dhara was supposed to take her hand in hers and kiss the back of it. Dhara swallowed uncomfortably, not sure that she wanted to make such a gesture of worship to this woman she knew from nobody and nothing. But out of respect for Kean, she hesitantly reached for the woman’s hand and was bending her head over it when Leitheia suddenly let out a loud, cackling laugh, throwing her head back and pulling her hand away.
“Oh, the look on your face!” Leitheia said, slapping a hand against her thigh. “Oh, I love it. It works every time! Every time!”
Dhara, stunned, looked at Kean, who gave her an impish smile. “Did I mention that Leitheia has a sense of humor?”
Realizing that she had been played, Dhara relaxed, letting out a laugh that was goodspirited, if still uncertain. “Uh, no, I don’t think you did.”
“Well, I do,” Leitheia announced, grinning widely. “Come in, come in. You’re both shuddering and shivering out there. It’s just rude to come to my house soaking wet, Kean O’Shea. Just downright rude.”
“Sorry, Leitheia,” Kean said, ushering Dhara in ahead of him. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “She’s not offended.”
Dhara managed a smile and walked into the small house. Clearly she was going to have to be on her toes around this little, powerful woman. There was respect to be shown, but goodhumor to be displayed as well. She could only hope she would successfully navigate between the two, and as she walked further into the room, she wasn’t sure whether or not she should acknowledge the fact that there was an enormous stag standing in the kitchen or pretend as though that was normal. Or perhaps it wasn’t even there—it could be another joke.
“That’s Geoffrey,” Leitheia said, gesturing toward the majestic animal. “Ignore him. He’s a hang about.”
“The…stag is a hang about?” Dhara clarified. “Named Geoffrey?”
Leitheia nodded, patting Geoffrey’s hide as she walked into the tiny kitchen to pour cups of the tea she had been brewing. “That’s right. A downright leech, that’s Geoffrey.”
Dhara glanced at Kean, but he shrugged a shoulder and shook his head, so Dhara decided not to try to figure out the stag’s relationship to the wizened old woman, and instead focused on taking in the small house. It wasn’t a process that took long. They were standing in the living room and kitchen combination, a small table for one tucked up against one logcabin wall, and a couch with three heavy blankets thrown over the back sitting against the opposite wall. There were shelves and shelves of books, and a coffee table that had all manner of pots filled with differentcolored substances, but beyond that, there seemed to be almost nothing in the house. No pictures of family. No décor. No item that would indicate who Leitheia was beyond her mystic role.
“That’s because I don’t live here all the time,” Leitheia said, responding to thoughts that Dhara had not voiced out loud. “I just come this way when someone around here needs me. Like you and Kean.”
“You weren’t here when he called you this morning?” Dhara asked, frowning. She hated that the woman had to travel through the terrible storm—so much so that she forgot to wonder how Leitheia had known what she was thinking.
Leitheia shook her head, balancing three cups of tea on a tray as she walked back over to them. “No, I wasn’t, but I didn’t have to travel the way you did. One moment I’m here, the next I’m not!”
Kean handed Dhara one of the cups of tea, taking the other for himself. “Leitheia can travel places in mere moments. And she knows what you’re thinking too, by the way.”
“Clearly,” Dhara said, holding the warm mug in her hands.
“And you’re both dripping all over my floors,” Leitheia complained, clucking her tongue. “We need to change your clothes before we sit down and talk. Go, go.” She ushered them into a back room, one hand balancing the tea tray and one waving them urgently. “Go!”
Kean led Dhara back toward the door that Leitheia was gesturing toward, and behind it they found a small room containing a wrought-iron bed, an armoire, and a mirror.
“In the armoire!” Leitheia called. “And stop pretending to be shy around each other! You think I don’t knowthese things?”
Dhara flushed, and she and Kean both looked away, because they had been staring at each other, clearly envisioning changing clothes together.
“She’s something else,” Kean said, walking toward the armoire and pulling it open to reveal a stash of clothing. “I should have mentioned that.”
“You should have,” Dhara agreed, catching the dress that Kean tossed to her. It was old, with thin fabric in a dusty rose color with a floral pattern. She never would have picked it out herself, but it had a certain charm to it, and it looked like it would fit her. “Don’t look,” she said, tossing the dress on the bed and beginning to undo the buttons on her blouse.
Kean cast her a look over his shoulder. “Really? We’re being shy?”
She would have responded, but he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing to her for the first time the rippling muscles of his chest and back. Every movement he made highlighted another muscle she had never even known existed before. His abdomen was ripped and jagged, his chest muscles firm, and his biceps bulging. She had known that he was a well-built man, but seeing it firsthand put her right back where she had been minutes before, when he’d had mercy on her outside Leitheia’s house.
When she finally dragged her eyes from his chest back to his eyes, she saw that he was smirking at her, clearly pleased with himself.
“You bastard,” she said, no real venom in her voice. “You did that on purpose. I thought you wanted to be good.”
“No,” he said, pulling on a clean, cotton, beige shirt that did very little to hide the lines of his muscles. “I want to be very, very bad. I’m just trying to be good. Now turn away while I change my pants, or we’re going to shock Leitheia.”
Gulping, Dhara spun around, quite certain that she couldn’t take any more exposure. As he changed his pants, she quickly put on the dry dress, which clung nicely to her, hugging her ample curves and narrow waist.
Kean groaned quietly, and she turned, concerned at first, until she saw the look in his eye. His gaze was riveted on the buttons of the dress, which strained against her full chest. Then he turned, digging around in the armoire until he found a shawl to throw at her. “Put that on,” he demanded, walking by her and yanking her into a fierce but brief kiss before he stalked out of the room.
Shaken and aroused all over again, Dhara pulled the shawl around her, making sure it fell discreetly over her heaving breasts, then hurried out of the room after him. With all the distractions, flirtations, and rule-breaking, she had all but forgotten why they were at Leitheia’s to begin with.
But when she reentered the living area, she was immediately reminded and her mood changed completely.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kean
It was no sur
prise to Kean that Leitheia had taken advantage of their absence to set up for their session, but he could tell that Dhara was shocked by what she saw. Candles covered almost every surface in the room, fire being a great source of power for Leitheia, and all of the other lights were out. The storm still raged outside, providing a completely accidental but still eerie backdrop, and Leitheia sat in the middle of the room, a pillow beneath her as she hovered about four inches above it. Her eyes were closed, her hands held out, and her chin tilted upward to receive the power that she was channeling through her.
But the scene only lasted for a moment. As soon as Leitheia sensed their presence in the room, she opened her eyes, interrupting the moment and dropping down onto the pillow waiting to cushion her. As though oblivious to the impact her actions might have on Dhara, she smiled. “There, that’s better. Nice and dry.”
Kean placed his hand on the small of Dhara’s back, leading her toward the middle of the living room to join Leitheia. “It’s okay,” he murmured to her, guiding her to sit, then following her example. “Dhara, Leitheia is a mystic. What does that mean to you?”
Dhara glanced at him, licking her lips, clearly unsure. “She’s magic, I guess.”
“Not magic,” Leitheia corrected. “Connected to the spirit world. It’s a way of life. Mystics are born. Created. They are not learned or adopted. You either are, or you are not. When I learned that I had been born a mystic, I took the name Leitheia. Lei, for garland. Theia for truth. I am a garland of truth that you can drape around your neck.”
Kean glanced over at Dhara, seeing her shifting uncomfortably. He reached out to hold her hand. “Leitheia can see things that other people cannot. If you let her guard down and give her your permission, she can see inside of you to your spirit. She’ll be able to tell you when it was first troubled. Why. How. She’ll be able to tell us what spirits are haunting you.”
“You can tell all that?” Dhara asked, with no small amount of skepticism. “Why did we wait until now to come here then?”
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