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“I know you do, but Baird…” The other male shifted from foot to foot uneasily. “You haven’t been back that long—only three days and it’s a miracle you escaped alive. Don’t you think it might be a good idea to wait a while? To take some time to recover?”
“Waited long enough,” was the rumbling reply. “Six months in that hell hole and the only thing keeping me alive and sane were the dreams I had of her. I won’t wait any longer—she’s mine, whether she knows it yet or not.”
“You’ll scare her,” his half-brother objected. “Human women are frightened enough of us as it is.”
“I won’t hurt her. Just need to take her—bond her.” Unconsciously, he took a step toward the lighted window but his half-brother put a restraining hand on his broad shoulder.
“Wait.” The other male’s voice was soothing. “Just wait until they serve the papers. One more night and she’s yours but you can’t have her now—not without violating the contract.”
A low, frustrated growl was his answer as the thick muscles of Baird’s upper arms bunched with tension.
“Come on.” The one called Sylvan tugged his half brother gently away from the lighted window. “If you stay here you’ll do something you regret. Remember, just one more night.”
The other male stood like a rock for a moment despite his brother’s tugging. Then, reluctantly, he allowed himself to be led away. He cast one last possessive glance over his shoulder at the figure in the window.
“Mine,” he repeated with unshakable certainty. “Mine whether you know it or not, Lilenta. And tomorrow I claim you.”
1
“Bad dreams again last night?”
Olivia Waterhouse jerked at the sound of her twin sister’s voice and then went back to staring at the kitchen table. “Uh, not so much,” she lied and tried to smile.
“C’mon, Liv, give. It’s me, your womb mate—remember?” Sophia sat down across from her and patted her hand gently. No one could ever decide if the Waterhouse twins were fraternal or identical. Liv had honey blonde hair with grey eyes and Sophia had a rich, chestnut mane with pale green eyes but their facial features were exactly the same. They had the same build too, both were five-seven and slender with hourglass curves. More than just twins, they were also best friends, which was why it made Liv uncomfortable to lie to her sister. But she couldn’t help it—the things she’d seen last night didn’t bear repeating.
“Really,” she said, not meeting her sister’s eyes. “I’m fine. I just had a restless night—that’s all.”
The truth was the dreams she’d been having for the past half year about the muscular stranger with glowing, amber-gold eyes had become progressively more disturbing. He was her nighttime visitor every time she closed her eyes. Liv had even named him—inside her head she called him “the dark man.”
For the longest time she’d dreamed of him someplace filled with shadows—someplace where despair was an almost palpable thing. Sometimes he was chained to the wall, his head bowed as if in exhaustion. Other times were worse. Liv had seen him hooked to some kind of machine, wires embedded in his dusky tan skin like malignant snakes feeding off him. On an inverted dome, as big as an IMAX screen above his head, images flashed—pictures of strange worlds she never could have imagined. One seemed to be all ice and snow, another a lush tropical jungle where the vegetation was mostly blue instead of green. And yet another seemed to be a world that was mostly a clear, golden ocean with tiny rocky islands dotted here and there.
When she dreamed of the pictures of other worlds flashing across the enormous screen, Liv always got the idea that they were somehow drawn from the memories of the dark man. And there was pain—so much pain, both physical and emotional. He was hurting and she was powerless to help him. She didn’t even know him but somehow his agony affected her deeply. She woke up with tears in her eyes most mornings, her heart clenched like a fist in her chest, his name—a name she could never quite recall—trembling on her lips.
Liv tried to tell herself her dreams were just that—only dreams. Lots of people had reoccurring dreams. Why her brain should choose to show her the same thing night after night was a mystery but it was also no big deal. And she only felt for the mysterious dark man because that was the kind of person she was. She’d just finished nursing school a few weeks ago and was taking some time off before she started her new job in the pediatric unit at Tampa General. She could be tough when she had to but by nature she was a nurturing person. Otherwise she wouldn’t care how this man, this dream stranger, was hurting. Wouldn’t care about the pain she saw in his unusual amber eyes.
