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"Hey," she said softly, leaning over his sprawled, unresponsive body where he lay on the floor. His eyes were closed now, but restless behind his lids. A muscle in his jaw twitched, his limbs unmoving yet tense with a coiled energy Dylan could feel as she got near him.

She stroked his face with a feather-light touch, running the backs of her fingers over the flawless cheek that made him so jaw-droppingly gorgeous, and the other side that completely broke her heart. Who could have predicted these past several days, and all the things she would experience? What could possibly have prepared her for meeting this complicated, incredible man?

Would she ever truly be able to forget him, even if he erased himself from her memory like he intended to do?

She doubted it. Even if her mind were forced to forget him, she didn't think her heart ever would.

Dylan bent down and pressed her lips to his slack mouth.

Rio's eyes snapped open. His hands shot around her throat so fast, she didn't have a chance to draw breath enough to cry out.

Chapter Twenty-five

He didn't know what yanked him harder out of the dead fog of his mind: the feel of soft lips on his mouth, or the realization a split second later that he was holding a slender throat in his hands. Squeezing tight, fury flowing from the confusion of his blackout into the tips of his fingers where they pressed with deadly intent on a delicate female larynx.

He couldn't let go.

His eyes were open, but he couldn't focus on the face before him. He heard a choked gasp, a moan vibrating against his locked thumbs.

None of it broke him out of the thick darkness.

It wasn't until he felt soft hands come up to his face - his scars - that he felt the first glimmer of clarity.

Dylan.

Cristo...he was hurting her.

With a roar, Rio threw himself off her, releasing her the instant he realized what he was doing. He scrambled into the shadows of the unfamiliar surroundings, horrified at what he'd done.

Holy hell...what he might have done, if he'd held on any longer.

He heard her suck in a few rapid breaths of air behind him. He waited to hear her footsteps take off at a panicked run. He wouldn't have blamed her. He wouldn't have gone after her either. Not even for the purpose of scrubbing her mind in protection of the Breed and the secret let loose from that Bohemian cave.

If she ran now, she would have her freedom from him completely.

"Go, Dylan. Get far away from me...please."

He heard a rustle of movement as she got up. He closed his eyes, ready to let her go.

Praying she would.

Instead she drew nearer to him. Rio flinched as her hand landed gently on his head and then drifted slowly down his hair.

"Go," he rasped. "Before I lose my fucking mind again and do something even worse. For fuck's sake, I might have killed you just now."

He hissed as she knelt down beside him on the floor. With the slightest coaxing, she brought his head around to face her. "I'm okay, as you can see. You scared me a little, but that's all. God, Rio...how often does this happen to you?"

He scowled and shook his head, not interested in having this conversation right now.

"How do you get through it?" she asked. "I'd like to help you - "

"You can't."

He couldn't force his gaze away from her throat as he said it, hard as he tried to avoid looking at the graceful column of Dylan's neck. He hadn't bruised her - a small miracle - but he could still feel the velvety skin against his palms, the heat of her still tingling in his fingertips.

And there, near the hollow at the base of her throat, beat a strong, tempting pulse.

"You need blood, don't you," she said, too smart to miss the weakness that he couldn't conceal. "Would it be better for you if you fed?"

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