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I slipped my sock and boot back on, dreading the removal of the damn thing. What kind of monstrous tool would they use to pry my foot open?
Lorian stood to put the needle away and continued with the instructions on our upcoming mission. “We’ll want you to bring a female friend this time, rather than a male escort. We believe it will increase the chance of this Borgus seeing you as an easy target.”
“Hmm. That’s probably a good idea. He vacated fast when Conn sat next to me at the bar.”
“Exactly. Kraven will be your ‘in’ to the party, but he’ll subtly disappear so it’s just the two of you.”
“I’ll bring my friend, Kris, but you have to promise me you’ll watch her like a hawk.” Kris could be unpredictable, and I’d die if something happened to her because of me.
“There’s no need to worry. I’ll be there, as will Kol and a few other men from Nightwing Security and the Morgon Guard, to ensure safety. This leads to the final stipulation.”
Lorian’s eyes shifted to Kol who hadn’t taken his eyes off me for several minutes and still hadn’t spoken a word. Perhaps he was embarrassed about last night or something.
Lorian cleared his throat, striding before me in front of the fireplace. “I’m going to let Kol explain this one to you, but understand that it’s non-negotiable.” A ghost of a smile flitted over Lorian’s face as he crossed the room and left me alone with big, bad Iceman.
The door closed with a definite snick. A heavy energy filled the study. I’d felt it often enough to know what it was. Kol’s dragon was in the room with us. He met my gaze, all hard angles and taut muscles, primed for action. “We want to be certain we can track you before the Butchers do you physical harm.” Something was off. His voice resonated too low for his calm composure.
“Yes. I understand,” I said, a primal shiver trembling down my frame. The casual conversation belied the fiery energy sparking in the air. “You told me yourself that you’re the best tracker there is. Plus, I have the techno-tracker embedded.”
“True. But we’re still not sure about their rituals. The victims’ bodies tell us only that the women were raped multiple times—not whether it happens daily upon their imprisonment or as part of the ritual sacrifice. We believe it’s part of the ritual, but we can’t be sure.”
I stood and stretched my palms toward the fire. I let the warmth seep into me, shaking off visions of rape and mutilation, refusing to let my own fears seep into my psyche and affect the job I would have to do. After a moment, I turned my back to the fire.
“So, you have some sort of plan to prevent this, I suppose. In case you’re delayed getting to me.”
Danger seeped from him in a rippling aura, the sunset lighting his silhouette in orange-gold. “There is one way to deter them. At least long enough to give us the time we need to track you with stealth and surround the enemy in whatever lair they take you.”
“That one way is?”
The focus of his gaze, the half-open arch of his wings, the flexed lines of his shoulders warned me that I should run. Fast. Feeling like a doe in the woods, knowing a predator drew closer, I froze for a moment, transfixed by the hunter.
“Morgon men hate the scent of another Morgon man on a woman he wants for himself. And the scent of a strong, dominant Morgon man will make them hesitate to do anything to you.”
He circled the desk, making his way in a deliberate path toward me. A primitive instinct put me on high alert by the way his body moved with slow, steady purpose. Instinctively, I shifted away from the fireplace, putting the sofa between us. My heart spiked to a frantic beat. Fixing on his target—me—he flexed his chest and arms as he stalked closer.
“That strong, dominant Morgon man being you.” I continued moving, mirroring his movements in the opposite direction around the sofa.
“I’m going to mark you”—his voice an icy edge—“and you’re going to let me.”
My boot caught on the tufted red carpet. I stumbled, then caught myself, giving him just enough time to ease around the sofa and corral me backward till I was once again by the fireplace.
He opened his arms, palms up, in a disarming manner, raising my alarm to red alert. “Unless of course you want to call the whole thing off.”
“Of course not.” I lifted my chin. No way was I backing out, though survival instincts told me to bolt right now. “I’m not going to have sex with you or anything.”
“No need. I can get my scent under your skin without fucking you.”
Crude words. They matched the man—hard, cold, devoid of emotion. His eyes roved the skin he planned to mark in short, quick order. So maybe a little making out. I could do that. No biggie. Just some kissing. Right?
“You’re not going to bite me or anything, are you?”
“Oh.” Closer. Closer. “Not too hard.” His voice dropped several decibels.
“Kol—”
I had a split-second warning before I was pinned to the floor on my back. Kol’s fingers wrapped my nape, spreading up into my hair around the base of my skull, his body heavy and hard on mine. His lips pressed, pried, commanded me to open my mouth. I did.
His tongue swept in—hot, invading, demanding my complete submission. He bit my lower lip, letting his teeth clamp just a little too hard. I made a soft cry before he melded firm lips over mine, giving me a punishing kiss. I braced my hands on his shoulders, pushing to catch my breath. Not that it did a damn bit of good. He was big. So big.
