Thiswomanwillbethe death of me.
“Mayah!” I call, running after her through the trees. She’s skiesdamned fast when she wants to be. Twigs snap beneath my booted feet, branches scraping my arms, as I follow the sound of her thudding footsteps.
A few more minutes, and the night falls silent. No more frantic footsteps ahead. No more heaving breaths. I slow to a walk, mindful now of where I step. Her energy signature pulses faintly in the distance, the currents thrumming with agitation. A few more feet, and I sense her clearly—she’s kneeling behind a thick bush, completely concealed from view.
Smart girl.
I maintain my pace, walking past her line of sight, pretending I haven’t noticed her.
And when she cautiously rises, wide eyes darting around the dark forest—I’m waiting.
Mayah yelps as I haul her out from the underbrush. She struggles in my grasp, but I only hold her tighter.
“Let me go!” she shouts before I silence her with a rough hand clamped over her mouth.
“Do you want the rebels to find us?” I glare down at her, resisting the urge to shake her until she sees reason. This isn’t her fault. “Let’s go.”
She wrenches her head back, still fighting like a wildcat, and Skies damn me, it arouses me more. That defiant streak, that unrelenting fight inside her, is what first tugged at my heart.
“Idowant the rebels to find me,” she hisses, eyes blazing. “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—”
A sudden, searing rage burns through my veins at the thought of anyone else touching her. My grip tightens on her arms, but it doesn’t help—she’s still fighting me. Nothing is working.
So I try something else.
I ease my tight hold and drop my voice to a husky whisper.
“All right, baby,” I murmur. “All right, I’ll help you.”
She shakes her head, unconvinced.
I press her flush against my chest with one hand, tilting her chin with the other until I can gaze down into her turbulent blue eyes.
“You don’t want any rebels, do you, baby?” I pitch my voice even lower, slowly dragging a thumb across her lips. She shakes her head again, slower this time, eyes glazed.
Skies help me.
“That’s right,” I whisper. “You wantme. You’re aching forme. That need inside you? That’s my power trying to get back tome.”
I wish she really wanted this. I wish this were real.
“Let me take you back to camp and make you feel better.” I slide my hand down her neck, fingers grazing the teardrop necklace that rests between her collarbones. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, nodding frantically.
“Good girl,” I croon, and she almost melts at the praise. I nearly do, too. Her arms twine around my neck, and she climbs my body with ease, legs wrapping tightly around my waist. I grip the backs of her thighs—she’ll have bruises tomorrow in the shape of my fingers, but it’s all I can do to not touch her elsewhere.
I walk us back. She leans toward me, angling for a kiss, but I arch my head out of her reach—our first kiss willnotbe when she’s completely senseless, lust-addled from sharing my power.
My steps falter.
There willbeno first kiss.
Not for us.
She’s betrothed to my brother.
I swallow hard, resuming my pace, trying to ignore the searing kisses she’s sucking into my neck, the scrape of her teeth along my collarbones, the way she’s grinding her center against my abdomen.
