His palms were so hot, his touch seared through the sleeves of my shirt. It made an involuntary shudder run through my spine. But I refused to fall intothatrabbit hole, and so I refocused my gaze on theshadow mark. “You called it a portal,” I recalled in a clear voice, and tugged at my arms, trying to break free.
But Lucien did not let me go. Instead, he stepped closer until his robe-clad, hard chest aligned against my back. “Let me pick it up,” he said instead of answering my obviously burning question. “Go sit in the living room and wait until I’m done. We need to talk.”
His authoritative tone pissed me off, and I welcomed the anger. It was a far less dangerous emotion than everything else I’d been feeling since Lucien’s human form appeared out of the blue. “Don’t order me around in my own home,” I said, tugging hard against his hold this time.
He froze for a moment before he finally let me go. I whipped around once I was free and planned to glare at him, but when I saw his hypnotizing eyes locked on the shadow mark, I was momentarily distracted, transfixed by the dark look on his beautiful face.
In all fairness, it had been ... well ... averylong time since I’d last had sex. This onslaught of gorgeousness without warning, out of nowhere, was far too overwhelming for my very weak, very thirsty heart.
But Adonis or not, Lucien was the key to a number of matters at hand that required my attention. I had so many questions, so many mysteries that Lucien could solve for me. It was the first time I’dreallymet someone from the supernatural community. This was a moment I’d been waiting for, foryears.
So I swallowed my absurd, obviously one-sided attraction and folded my arms over my chest. I was about to speak when Lucien walked toward the shadow mark and paused a few inches away from the murky liquid. “Do you have a scoop?” he asked suddenly.
I did, in fact, have a scoop. I fished it out of the kitchen cabinet and handed it over to him, careful not to get close to the shadow mark. Lucien nodded in thanks, his auburn curls bouncing around his head.
I was mesmerized by the movement of his hair as he crouched down and started scooping the mark back into the bottle. I’d never seen sucha deep, rich auburn hair color before. There was even a glint of gold in between strands, which gave his hair the illusion of a faint halo.
In short, his hair was beautiful. Everything about the physique of this man was beautiful. So beautiful I had to actively tear my eyes away, lest I be in danger of drowning in his unfathomable,supernaturalgorgeousness.
Lucien was quick, and the shadow mark was fully scooped into the bottle within less than a minute. He stood and turned to me with the bottle in his hands. “I need a lighter,” he informed me, brilliant blue eyes finding mine.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to ignore the heat unfurling in my gut at his intense stare. “Why?” I asked, jutting my chin out in defiance stemming from basic survival needs.
Because despite his beauty, this man was dangerous. He was awerewolf, for God’s sake. He was supernatural, not fully human, if at all. Even though he was still wounded, he was more than capable of tearing my throat out if he so wanted.
Sure, a deep instinct tried to assure me he wouldn’t hurt me. Normally, I counted on my instincts to be correct. But I’d already learned my lesson a long time ago; those instincts were absolutely useless in the face of a hot man.
And this hot man now looked at me, his gaze as searing as his touch had been, or perhaps even more so. “You don’t trust me,” he stated suddenly.
“Of course I don’t,” I replied immediately, because attraction or no, this was the truth. I didnottrust this stranger.
He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “But you trusted the wolf.”
I opened my mouth, ready to deny that, but paused, because memories of the past few days went through my head one after another.
From the moment I had found him in his wolf form, thinking him to be a dog, bleeding and dying outside the back door of my building, the same instinct that told me Lucien wouldn’t hurt me had guided methen as well. As if my gut knew something I didn’t know about the dog, or rather,werewolf.
It wasn’t just that I trusted the wolf.
“Yes, I did,” I agreed now, my heart pounding faster. “But I knew the wolf. I don’t knowyou.”
Lucien put the bottle on the counter and stepped toward me, pausing so close I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. He was so much taller than I was, at five-eight, that it now made perfect sense why his wolf form was absurdly large. “The wolf and I, we are one and the same,” he informed me, eyes searching mine. “And both parts of me are forever grateful to you for saving me that night.”
My eyes widened.
“With that in mind,” he continued, raising his hand until his fingers reached for a strand of hair that fell over my shoulder, “at least believe me when I say that I owe you my life, and thus will never, ever cause you harm.”
He tucked the hair behind my ear, his knuckles brushing against the lobe, and a shiver that had everything to do with not just his touch, but also his words, coursed its way through my body, leaving a hot, confusing flush in its wake.
Chapter 7
The Sorcerer’s Secret
Anticipation made me feel restless and jittery as I watched Lucien light up an old, dusty unused candle I had put on the kitchen counter. His face was set in concentration as he lifted the shadow mark–filled bottle and, very carefully, tipped its opening over the small flame.
I’d tensed, bracing myself for whatever was to come, when I saw the oddest thing happening. The shadow mark liquid, once poured from the bottle onto the flickering flame, dissolved into thin air, leaving tiny, dark particles in its place that floated aimlessly until they disappeared.
Wonder filled me as I looked on while the liquid slowly vanished, not taking my eyes off the oddly beautiful sight until the last drop made it out to the fire.
