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I burst out laughing, my relaxed body feeling the emotional release more intensely. With a sigh, I rolled onto my back and found him smiling at me. “That was the best sex of my life, Sultan.”

He grinned wider and then frowned. “Alexa, stop.”

The bellydancing music stopped.

“You made me forget who I was,” he whispered.

“As you did for me.” I sat up. “So, what shall we do next time?”

“Well we passed over the knight and the maid bit.”

“And you did buy me a maid costume.”

Tristan made a face at me as laid beside me on his belly. “Wrong century.”

“Oh, no, you're going to be historically accurate with our role playing, aren't you?”

He grinned. “I think it will be easier to lose myself if it's accurate.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “So, how was the cock ring?”

Tristan's grin vanished. “No.”

“No?” I grinned.

“Never again. I did not enjoy the restriction.”

I rolled to face him. “You're right. We shouldn't restrict ourselves.”

“Never.” He leaned forward and kissed me.

Chapter Twenty-Four

A ragged cry woke me. Heart slamming in my chest, I bolted upright and searched the room. Beside me, Tristan flung himself onto his back and cried out. His fingers dug into the mattress so hard the cotton strained, and he arched off the bed as if a live wire had been thrust into his chest.

“Tristan!” I leaned over him.

His eyes were wide, a thin line of aquamarine around his dilated pupils. Sweat sprang across his forehead in a matter of seconds. He pressed both heels of his hands against his temples, gasping for air.

“What is it?” I gripped his shoulder, and felt heat radiating from his skin. “Is it the Pull?”

“Yes,” he choked out, his voice scraping raw. “It's pulling me in four directions at once. Five. East, northwest, across the river—” He went into a fetal position, pressing his forehead into the sheets, his shoulders shaking.

A knock came at the door.

I threw on my clothes from the night before and ran to the door. When I wrenched it open, I found Bart and Tanvi standing in the main room, both looking upset.

“We felt the resonance come through the wards.” Tanvi stepped past me into the suite. Her dark eyes took in Tristan's shuddering form on the bed with clinical precision. “This is bad.”

“That bastard is using the name again.” Bart looked at me. “Do your juju.”

“I was about to when you interrupted.” I rushed back to the bed, lay down facing him, and set my palms on his back. Misery rushed into me, flooding my body with such pain I cried out and arched as Tristan had. I forced myself to take more and more until I felt it crest.

Tristan turned to face me. “Destiny?” His hands hovered over my face. “Damn it, you took too much!”

“I'm fine,” I panted as the pain receded and I brought my shields down. “You?”

He nodded. “It's bearable now. Thank you.” He kissed my forehead and then pushed himself upright, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently along his cheek. He rolled out of bed, and reached blindly for his pants, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. “I have to go. If I stay here and deny the Pull, it will tear me apart.”