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She landed in a crouch on the street below, ready to bolt on foot.
But Zael was there in that next instant. She barely registered his motion, yet there he stood, blocking her path in the alleyway. His scowl knit his brows. “Don’t do this, damn it. Don’t shut me out, Brynne.”
His gentle tone made the beast in her bristle. “Get away from me, Atlantean.”
He shook his head, obstinate. Immovable. So dangerously foolish. “This is why you’ve been pushing me away? Because you were afraid I’d see you like this?” He swore softly, his scowl deepening. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Brynne.”
“Afraid of you?” The predator in her all but spat the words. “Never.”
Her vitriol didn’t seem to faze him at all. Zael held her stare, even took another step toward her. “You’re not alone. Don’t you see that?”
“You’re wrong. I am alone. It’s you who can’t see that.” A hot breath gusted out of her, shaky, uneven. “I’ve been alone all my life. It’s the only way I’ve survived.”
He gently shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be that way. Not anymore.”
She eyed him warily as he closed more distance between them. Her senses filled with him, from the deliciously warm scent of his skin to the heat that radiated off his muscular body. Her head filled with the awareness of him as a man, as the one man she desired more than any before him.
“Let me in, Brynne. You can trust me.”
She tossed her head in automatic response, torn between wanting to believe him and wanting him as far away from her as possible. Her vision locked on his throat as he moved in closer. The drum of his pulse echoed in her skull, in her temples, in her marrow. She stared, riveted to that hard ticking of his heartbeat, as she had been when they’d lain together, naked in her bed.
God help her, but the hunger with which she ached for him felt less about the monster and its cravings and more about the need to feel Zael inside her, comforting her with his body and his blood.
On a groan, she stepped around him. Or, rather, she tried to. Zael stopped her, his body planted in front of her, physically barring her from getting past.
“Dammit, Zael. Get out of my way and let me go.”
He ignored all of her warnings. He ignored the unearthly rasp of her voice, which should have told him just how close she was to the edge.
And it was too late now, too much for her to bear.
Rage spiked through her, breaking loose from its thin leash. She shoved at him, but he was strong too. And he was fast. He grabbed her hands and held her still, restraining her.
She roared, no longer in control of her senses or her reactions.
The beast owned her now.
The monstrous power she could not contain exploded out of her and she knew only that she was lethal like this. She couldn’t hold herself back—not even with Zael. A bellow shot out of her, anguished and unhinged fury setting her into motion.
She broke loose from his hold and flew at him on a banshee howl.
Zael raised his hands as if to fend her off. They were glowing, his fingers limned in pure white light. In the center of both palms, the symbol of a teardrop and crescent moon was illuminated with energy so pure it blinded her.
She couldn’t fight it. Couldn’t fight him.
Zael’s power was too strong.
He touched her, and light instantly engulfed her vision. His light. It poured into her, obliterating her senses as it seeped into her mind and her limbs, and into every raging cell of her body.
~ ~ ~
Zael knelt on the pavement, holding Brynne in his arms. She was unconscious, unmoving, except for the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
He hated that he’d used his power on her—for several reasons—but she’d given him little choice.
