My dragon takes what it wants. She will be no different.

  “I’ve survived many dangerous creatures in my life, little flower. I have no doubt I can handle you.”

  “Fine.” She stops moving away from me and holds out her hands in challenge. “Give it a try then. Let’s see if you’re right.”

  I remain where I am.

  She smirks. “What’s wrong? Worried about a little poison?”

  I frown, realizing my desire to touch her is quickly becoming an obsession. And I’m not the only one if her scent is any indication. What would she do if she didn’t have her lethal touch as an excuse to keep me away?

  Maybe then I could fuck her and be done with it. Get her out of my system. I wouldn’t have to claim her to enjoy her.

  It’s a problem I’d like to eliminate.

  “I know a witch who deals in curses,” I tell her roughly. “We’ll meet with her tomorrow.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “To find a cure for this… ailment.”

  She studies me for a long moment and then turns away, crossing her arms. “No.”

  “No?” My brows lift at that. “You don’t want to hug your sister again⁠—?”

  “Don’t.” She looks back at me, her expression vicious. “You do not get to use Kendall like that. Besides, if being cursed keeps me from being touched by you, then maybe I’m better off.”

  I smirk. “I thought you wanted me to go ahead and give it a try. Didn’t you invite me to try it the other night when I came to see you outside your workshop? Which is it, little assassin? Do you want your hands on me or not?”

  “I wanted to touch you to kill you, you idiot.”

  “Yes, I remember your thirst for revenge. It was an amusing attempt.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. For revenge, I’d have to have feelings about you. This was a contract kill, nothing more.”

  My eyes narrow, and the lust winks out. “Excuse me?”

  Danger coats my tone. She must sense the change in me because she tries to back away. Except, she’s already pressed against the railing, fully at my mercy unless she wants to take her chances with gravity.

  When she realizes she’s trapped, she glares up at me defiantly. “The Crimson Roses offered me a deal. Your life for mine.”

  “And you accepted,” I say in a low voice.

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  Her defiance is beautiful, though that’s twice now she’s tried to kill me.

  If she were any other creature, I would strike her down here and now. Slash her throat with a claw. Drip hellfire onto her flesh. Shove her off the balcony and be done with it. End her before she can end me.

  But I do none of those things.

  Instead, I feel the fury in me become a pulsing want. No, a need. To consume her. Devour her. To make her beg for me. In a way that has nothing to do with saving her life.

  I lean in, dangerously close to her lethal mouth, and watch as her pupils dilate with the same need thrumming in me. “Tomorrow, we’ll see a witch about curing you, little assassin,” I whisper. “And this time, don’t bother trying to hide in your room.”

  Chapter 13

  Tori

  The hallway is dark and empty when I slip out of my bedroom hours later. Around me, the castle is so quiet and still that I can hear my own breath. It’s unsettling. I keep waiting for Legion to jump out at me and do something completely insane like kiss me.

  I haven’t stopped thinking about his promise to find me a witch. Or how badly I want him to—and not for any other reason than wanting him—which is stupid. He’s the one who did this to me. Ugh. My desire for a cure is making me desperate.

  I can’t trust him, I remind myself. He might have brought us here for protection, but remaining here forever only makes it a prison.

  No, the only person I can count on here is myself—and Kendall.

  I knock on her door as lightly as I can, hoping Legion’s not actually hovering nearby, watching me like some kind of stalker. Thankfully, Kendall’s door opens before I have to knock again.

  “Hey,” she says, hair rumpled. “Can’t sleep?”

  “Not a wink. You?”

  In answer, she simply pulls the door open and retreats.

  I slip inside, clicking the door shut behind me.

  Kendall’s room is set up like my own, plush and cozy and stocked with clothes and essentials from the looks of her pajamas.

  “Where’d you get the PJs?” I ask, thinking of the robe Legion had looked so scandalized over earlier. Clearly, he hadn’t picked out the items in these rooms. But why bother stocking them at all?

  How often did he bring females home?

  Ugh.

  Why did I care?

  “Chaya provided them,” Kendall says, climbing into bed and pulling the covers up around her.

  Chaya. Right. The girl who’d greeted us downstairs when we arrived.

  “I don’t get it,” I say, perching on the far edge of the mattress. “Is she related to him or something?”

  “No. Legion found her living on the streets a few years ago. He brought her here to live with him. I don’t think she has anyone else.”

  “Why would he do that?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s a decent person.”

  I snort. “Or maybe he’s forcing her to be his slave.”

  “You always believe the worst in people.”

  “It’s called survival.” I stop myself before I can lecture her on all the reasons I have to worry in a world like ours. Instead, I change the subject. “This place isn’t what I expected.”

  “Me neither,” she admits.

  “It’s kind of beautiful,” I add reluctantly.

  “Chaya says the village down the hill is really fun, especially on the weekends when they do a farmers market. We should go sometime.”

  “I doubt we’ll be here long enough for all that.”

  Kendall doesn’t answer.

  For a long moment, we sit in silence in the dark room. My thoughts drift to Juniper. To the memory of her body being reclaimed by the Earth. The images of the trees being scorched right along with the Crimson Roses Legion rained fire upon. And my chest aches with grief.

  “How are you?” I ask quietly.

  “Better, I guess,” Kendall says with a heavy sigh. “Not great. But better. You?”

  I blow out a breath. “Same.”

  She nods, staring down at her hands.

  Tears burn my eyes. I blink them back.

  “Listen, I’m sorry,” I begin, and her head comes up.

  She studies me warily. “For what?”

  “For bulldozing your ideas and not trusting you.”

  “You were scared,” she says, sadness etched into her words. “So am I.”

  I nod. Tears threaten again, but I blink them back. “Did you… Have you seen anything new since we’ve been here?”

  “Why?” Her sadness shifts into suspicion. “What did Legion say?”

  “Legion? Nothing. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  “Kendall.”

  She sighs. “This place is good for us,” she says. “Good for you.”

  “That’s cryptic.”

  She smirks. “Natalia says being cryptic is all part of the customer experience.”

  I snort.

  Finally, this feels like familiar ground. “You want to elaborate, oh wise one?”

  “You’ll soon meet your destiny,” she says, pitching her voice dramatically low and sinister.

  “Wow.” I roll my eyes. “That’s incredible. Do you need to see my palm to read my lifeline?”

  She sobers quickly. “Not anymore.”

  “Is this about what you told me the other day? About dying alone?”

  “It’s the opposite,” she says. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  “So, that future is gone?” I ask hopefully.

  “As long as you’re here, it is.”

  “Here,” I repeat. “With Legion.”

  “He seems like a pretty decent guy, Tor.”

  I glare at her. “Are you actually seeing visions, or are you just trying to hook me up with the dragon stalker?”

  She grins. “Why can’t it be both?”

  “You’re ridiculous. You know what they say about him, right? He’s a killer.”

  “Wow, that’s the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”

  I scowl. “I am not the same as him.”

  “You’re not that different, either.”

  “He’s an army general,” I point out.

  “He fights for his cause; you fight for yours.”

  I start to argue with her and then catch myself. “Okay, before this devolves into another fight, I came here to ask you for advice.”

  “Really? Wow, this place is changing you.”

  “Ignoring that,” I grumble.

  She laughs. “Okay, what advice?”

  “Legion wants me to meet with a witch tomorrow.”

  “For?”

  “To ask about what’s happened to my skin. To see about a cure.”

  “That’s great.” Her eyes light up, but then my expression has her frowning again. “Or it’s not great?” she tries, confused. “I thought you wanted answers.”

  “I do. I just… can we trust the people in this realm?”

  “Tor, you’re his fated mate. Do you really think he’d let you get hurt?”

  “I mean, I was going to kill him, so… yeah.”

  “Right, but he doesn’t know that.” I wince, and her eyes widen. “You told him?”

  “It slipped out,” I say.

  “Tor.”

  “He presses my buttons, and then I don’t think.”

  “Okay, first of all, no one is killing anyone. And second, he’s not going to let anything happen to you. He wants to help you.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  The way she lifts her brows knowingly has me wondering how I ever doubted her street smarts or wisdom. “You like him. And you’re terrified of that, aren’t you?”

  “Stop being so fucking insightful,” I mutter.

  “Okay, how about this? I’ll come with you to meet the witch. And if I get any visions that it’s a setup, you can shake everyone’s hand, and we’ll call it a day. Deal?”

  I sigh, knowing this is probably the best compromise I’ll get now that Kendall’s on Team Legion. “Deal.”

  A knock at my bedroom door pulls me from sleep. Groggy, thanks to hours of lying awake, listening to every creak the wind brings, I groan and roll over. The knock comes again, louder.

  “Ten minutes,” I call, cracking an eyelid to see the same nighttime sky as before.

  It’s not even morning.

  Ugh.

  I grab my pillow and cover my head, drowning out the world as I attempt to drift back to sleep.

  I’m nearly there when the door flies open, startling me enough to yank me upright. Legion strides in, looking particularly delicious in dark cargo slacks and long sleeves shoved up to reveal inked forearms.

  “Good morning, mate.”

  Mate.

  It’s the first time he’s really called me that. Hearing it does weird things to my insides. Before I can interpret the sensation, he stands over me, his gaze eating up the length of my body covered only by a thin sheet. I’m very aware of the thin layer of separation and the way it does nothing to hide my hardening nipples.

  “You sleep naked?” he asks, his voice rougher than usual.

  “You seemed offended that I made use of the robe,” I toss back at him. The truth is I often sleep naked, but I refuse to give him personal details. He has me physically; he doesn’t get to have any other parts.

  He doesn’t reply, but his expression darkens, and the air between us crackles with tension. I refocus on all the reasons he should not be looking at me like that.

  “What did I say about barging into my room?” I ask sharply.

  His gaze flicks back to mine. “I don’t remember.”

  Liar. “Don’t do it,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “We have an appointment with a witch.”

  “I made no appointment.” I lie back and pull the blanket over me to make a point about sleep—and to hide my body’s response to him in my room.

  Burying my face in the pillow, I wait, wondering how long it’ll take him to give up and leave me alone. A second later, the blankets are ripped from my body.

  I gasp, staring up at where he’s moved to the foot of the bed, my covers gripped in his fists. He doesn’t let his eyes roam my exposed body, but I know he sees. Somehow that makes it worse.

  “Chaya is on her way up with a few extra clothing items,” he says.

  “You can’t be serious. It’s the middle of the night.”

  “It’s always the middle of the night here,” he reminds me, and I groan. “You have ten minutes to shower and another ten before I’ll come looking for you again.”

  Finally, he breaks eye contact and lets himself look at me. My breasts, my stomach, my thighs—which are squeezed shut to hide the fact that I’m already wet.

  It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt, and he hasn’t even touched me. Then again, if he touched me now, it would take about three seconds for me to come.

  And three more seconds for him to die.

  “And if I don’t?” I ask.

  His gaze snaps to mine. Even though my breathless voice gives me away, I make sure to put fire in my glare so he knows it won’t be that easy.

  “If you don’t,” he says slowly, “I’ll be forced to punish you.”

  “You can’t touch me,” I say.

  “Not with my hands,” he agrees. “But there are many other things you’d enjoy me using to bring you the pleasure of my punishment.”

  I don’t dare ask what he means by that. The glint in his eye makes it clear I’ve reached the edge of this conversation. One more word and he’ll show me exactly what he intends to do. And I’m absolutely sure, in this moment, I wouldn’t stop him.

  Chapter 14

  Legion

  My control slips with every step I take away from her. Darkness creeps in at the edges of my awareness, eclipsing reason until my fists tremble with my shadow beast’s power. Seeing her naked was a stupid mistake. All that bared, flawless skin just begging to be explored. But it’s the double full moons I spotted through her balcony doors that are the real threat. Februlune—the moon fever. If I still had any doubt the mating call between us wasn’t real, I’m now convinced it is.

  The only creatures affected by the double moons are fated mates being pulled toward one another. To resist brings out the shadow beast like nothing else. I’ve seen the destruction—the madness—firsthand. I never thought it would be my turn.

  My shadow beast snarls for me to turn around and give in to its desire. To bend her over and take my fill of her. If I weren’t trained in torture, I’d undoubtedly give in. Resisting only invites more madness, but I do it. I won’t take her against her wishes. She’s clearly unaffected by the moon fever, or I would have seen it. Felt it.

  So, I walk away from her, my blood singing for hers.

  It doesn’t matter that she agreed to trade my life for hers. I would have taken the same deal if I’d been in her shoes. But it’s not just a warrior’s understanding. It’s more. Not even this need to possess her—thanks to the moon fever—is to blame. For some reason I can’t make sense of, I’ve already forgiven her for an act I have killed countless men for in the past. Maybe it’s the mate bond, but I’m beginning to care for this woman.

  When I reach my bedroom, I slam the door and then loose the roar that’s building in my throat. It shakes the stone walls—probably hard enough that the rest of the castle feels it, including her. At least, there was no hellfire this time.

  I need to find a release before that happens again.

  The fact that I’m even fighting off claiming a mate is still hard to believe. My bloodline shouldn’t even be able to have a fated mate. My mother saw to that. I’m nothing more than a predator on a leash. A beast to be captured.

  And no matter how badly I want that female in the bed down the hall, I refuse to let her imprison me.

  Unfortunately, reminding myself of that fact does nothing to solve the painful erection I’m sporting. Nor does it alleviate the darkening desires that are slowly taking hold in my mind.

  I spend the next twenty minutes in the shower, my hand wrapped around my hard length, imagining her mouth locked around me instead. She wants it—not like I do, thanks to these double fucking moons, but still. I can scent her desire for me, but she’s not letting herself give in to it. And the longer she resists, the harder it’s becoming for me to keep my hands off her.

  She thinks her touch will kill me.

  I believe her.

  But I’m beginning to think not touching her will have the same effect.

  The madness whispers to me that I’m not wrong.

  My body shudders with the force of my orgasm, and I hope it’s enough to help me survive her today.

  Dressed and more or less composed, I don’t bother looking for her downstairs. She’s made it clear she won’t be ordered anywhere. Instead, I turn toward her bedroom. And I’m so excited at the idea of punishing her for disobeying me, I almost miss the covered figure darting down the corridor that crosses this one.

  I catch up with her just as she reaches the door to the terrace gardens.

  “Going somewhere?”

  She whirls, and I note she’s at least wearing the clothes I asked Chaya to deliver, including the gloves and scarf. My gaze lingers on her breasts, and I remember how she looked in that bed earlier. The shock on her face when I ripped that blanket off was priceless, but the sight of her bared body eclipsed everything else. I’m already hard again just thinking about it despite my shower session.

  The frenzy stirs in my blood, and I shove it down, using every bit of torture technique I possess to remain in control.

  “How did you get these?” she demands.