“Fine.”
Tears sting my eyes—from his rejection, but also from the pure, tortuousneedwarming my blood.
I spin and bolt into the woods.
Chapter Nineteen
Thecoolnightairsoothes my burning skin as I dart between trees. Zevayr’s footsteps thud behind me, but I’m faster than him.
“Mayah!” he calls. His voice isn’t loud, swallowed by the sounds of the forest, but still, he’s closer than I expected.
I need to hide until he leaves. And then find someone to help me rid this ache between my thighs before it consumes me. Branches scrape my arms as I duck behind a thick tangle of underbrush, kneeling in the dirt. Not even two minutes pass before Zev strides through, head swiveling as he searches for me.
I hold my breath.
I don’t make a sound.
Through the leaves, I catch glimpses of him moving between the branches.
Minutes drag by. Then he’s out of sight.
Finally.
I rise to my feet and—
—yelp as rough hands haul me out from behind the bushes. Limbs flailing, I try to wrench out of his grasp, but his grip is iron-tight.
“Let me go!” I shout. The words barely escape before his hand clamps roughly over my mouth.
“Do you want the rebels to find us?” he whisper-yells at me. His eyes are lethal. “Let’s go.”
I jerk my head back, fighting against his hold. “Idowant the rebels to find me. Maybe one of them will help me. Or two or three, it doesn’t matter, they can take turns or have me all together or—”
Zev growls, his grip tightening on my upper arms. He’s hurting me, and I’m about to shout at him again when his hold loosens.
“All right, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and deep. “All right, I’ll help you.”
I shake my head.
I don’t believe him.
One large hand presses me against his body, while the other grips my chin, tilting my face toward his.
“You don’t want any rebels, do you, baby?”
Tides, he’s intoxicating, him and his deep, gravelly voice.
His thumb drags over my lips, and I’m in danger of melting into a puddle. Dazed, I shake my head.
“That’s right,” he whispers huskily. “You wantme. You’re aching forme. That need inside you? That’s my power trying to get back tome.”
His voice is like honey, and I can taste its sweetness on my tongue.
“Let me take you back to camp and make you feel better.” His hand slides down my neck, fingers grazing my clavicle. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, nodding frantically.
“Good girl,” he croons, and another rush of searing warmth pools between my legs. Tides,yes, I want to be his good girl.
