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  His water-slick hands moved to her beautiful breasts and cupped, kneaded. The water had fever-flushed her skin. Or maybe the intense heat radiating from him had done it. His palms burned so hotly he feared he would scorch her, but as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, she moaned and arched her hips, her arousal unfettered.

  "Can't get enough of you, kulta, and I think, perhaps, you can't get enough of me, either." He kissed and licked a path down her neck. "Am I right?"

  "Yes." She tilted her head to give him better access. As he sucked on her hammering pulse, she dug her nails into his scalp. "The things you make me feel. It's like poetry."

  Such beautiful praise... Pressure built, driving him to rub against her with more force. He hissed at the rightness of the sensation. "Tell me what you need." His voice was nothing more than a growl. "I will do it. Will do anything."

  "You. Your fingers."

  His greedy gaze tracked a path down the center of her stomach, and his hands soon followed. He'd been with hundreds of women. He'd bitten, scratched and whipped, but he'd never touched one the way he was about to touch Elin. He'd always used external devices.

  "Open for me."

  She obeyed, spreading her knees as far as they would go.

  "Good girl." He curled his fingers around her mound and moaned. She was hot enough to burn him.

  "Thane," she gasped. "Yes. Like that. But inside."

  His name on her lips...a throaty wisp...

  He parted her, dipped a finger into the tight, silken warmth of her, and felt her clench around him. Utter. Perfection. He nearly came. A hoarse cry left her as he pulled out...and sank back in...again and again.

  "Move on me." As he spoke, he urged her backside into a rocking rhythm against his shaft. Up and down, creating a dangerous friction...so insanely good...propelling him closer and closer to the edge of no return. "That's the way, kulta," he gritted.

  Water lapped over the tub's rim only to return and stroke over his sensitized skin. Water that had not cooled in the slightest. Water that had only heated.

  "Yes." She reached up to knead her breasts, just as he had done.

  It was too much...not enough. He should close his eyes and allow himself to calm, simply enjoy the feel of her inner walls clamping around his thrusting finger. But the sight of her...so erotic... He couldn't look away, and his need for satisfaction continued to climb.

  He battled the urge to grab her by the hips, lift her, and slam her down on his erection. That was what he needed. Her, surrounding him. Her, dripping on him. But he felt like a virgin, completely inexperienced and unsure. This was still so new to him. Pleasure without pain--without even the desire for pain. Being lost in a woman: her scent, the little moans escaping the back of her throat, the way she writhed against him. He didn't just want to please her. He had to please her. It was a need as necessary as breathing.

  "Tell me how much you like this," he demanded.

  "So much."

  Rejoicing, he fed her a second finger and began to work them in and out of her.

  Faster and faster. Harder.

  Panting, she arched to take him deeper. The heel of his palm pressed against the heart of her need, and she cried out, those wet, wet walls squeezing at him almost as tightly as a fist.

  "More. Please, more."

  The sight of her, the sounds she made, both pushed him past all reason. He couldn't wait a minute longer. Had to finish her. Him. Now. Just like this. With his fingers still nestled inside her, he slammed his hips forward, rubbing the long, hard length of his shaft against her. Then he did it again. And again. Hard and fast. And again. Again. All the while he worked her with his fingers and palm.

  "It's so good, baby. I'm so close," she rasped.

  Baby. An endearment. From a woman. For him. It was as new as the pleasure--and just as intoxicating.

  "Come," he commanded. "Come now. Let me feel you. See you." He thrust harder, higher, the heel of his hand pressing against her.

  "Thane!" she screamed, her inner walls clenching on him, her entire body bowing. A rush of liquid heat spilled over his fingers.

  The knowledge that he'd brought her to climax--the sensation of it--sent him over the edge at last. He roared as sublime satisfaction slammed into him, and came against her back. Came more forcefully than he ever would have imagined possible.

  When the last of his shudders stopped, he collapsed against the tub and realized he had Elin in a death grip. He loosened his hold and withdrew his fingers.

  In the light, those fingers gleamed. His mouth watered, wanting to taste. He licked his lips...and then the fingers. His eyes closed, and his head fell back. So deliciously sweet. How had he lived without it? Without her?

  "Maybe we should wash my brain while we're here," she said, her voice breathless. "My thoughts are still very, very dirty."

  "You want more, kulta? I'll give you more." Gladly. He kissed the base of her neck and grinned. "Your skin is so hot, your freckles little infernos."

  "Hot?" She stiffened. She jolted upright, severing contact. "Um, I think I've had enough for one day. I'm gonna take off, okay, and I'm going to borrow your robe." Before he could reply, she rose and stepped out of the tub. As she pulled the white material over her head, she said, "Everyone will see and know, won't they? It'll be my first walk of shame."

  Shame.

  She felt ashamed of him, of what they'd done. Even though he hadn't hurt her.

  Ice rained over him. He'd loved every moment together, and she had, too. And yet, the moment her desire was slaked, she regretted.

  "I'm sorry." Elin raced to the door, only to pause with her hand on the knob. "I, uh, had fun. Thanks."

  Thanks?

  Why not leave a wad of cash on the sink? The sentiment was the same. He scowled.

  When she actually made to leave, without another word, he stopped her with a barked, "I don't want you to vacate the club grounds again, Elin."

  She turned to peer at him, aghast. "I'm a prisoner, then?"

  Her cheeks were still flushed from her climax. A climax he had given her. Wet hair stuck to her cheeks. He wanted to hate her.

  He couldn't hate her.

  "You are to be protected."

  "Is everyone else to be similarly protected?" she demanded.

  A muscle ticked under his eye. He couldn't lie. But then, he'd had centuries to learn how to get around stating an untruth. "All humans are." What she didn't know: she was the first and last human ever to grace his club. "My enemies are out there, hunting, and you could be used against me."

  She looked away from him, fingers twisting over the center of the robe, lifting its hem, revealing her calves...and the water droplets still clinging to her skin. "What are you going to do about Ardeo?"

  "That will depend on the king."

  "Maybe you should avoid him--"

  "Enough." He wouldn't discuss strategies of war with her. They would only frighten her. "You had your fun. Go." Before I close the distance, carry you to my room and take you the rest of the way.

  Just like before, she scurried off.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ELIN STEPPED INTO the hall with her shoulders folded in and her head bowed. She wasn't embarrassed of her relationship with Thane, and she didn't want to act as if she was, but part of her expected Thane to holler out a command for his guards to kill her.

  He'd remarked on the temperature of her skin. As smart as he was, it was only a matter of time before he realized one plus one equaled Phoenix.

  The vampires at his door noticed her departure, but they didn't comment, or try to grab her.

  As she turned a corner, both relieved to have escaped detection and saddened by the abrupt end to such a sweet encounter, Adrian stepped from the shadows to follow her.

  She wanted to drill him about Thane. What did he know about the male and his previous lovers? How long had they worked together? But she held her tongue. She didn't deserve answers. The hurt in Thane's eyes as she'd dressed... He'd looke
d as if she'd stabbed him.

  I hurt him, my closest friend, and I'm not sure how.

  Closest friend. The words echoed in her mind. Yeah. He was, she realized. He always came to her rescue. He always listened to her stories about her past and wanted to know more. He cared about her well-being. Just like she cared about his. She trusted him.

  Just not with her origins.

  Ugh. What a mess.

  Her new clothes had been delivered, at least. Multiple boxes were piled on and around her bed. Sighing, she changed into a tank and shorts as quickly as possible and tucked Thane's robe under her pillow. She wasn't in the mood to answer questions about what had just happened.

  First, she had to get things straight in her head.

  What was clear: she'd discarded her make-it-hurt-so-the-cravings-will-stop-and-the-guilt-will-ease plan. Hadn't even given it a thought. She'd offered herself to Thane without reservation. He'd accepted. They'd gotten down and dirty without actually having sex. It had been a-maz-ing.

  But now, without the haze of pleasure driving her, the guilt was worse.

  She hadn't waited for love this time. Hadn't made Thane wait for marriage the way she'd made Bay wait, and Bay had worshipped her. To Thane, she was just a passing fancy. If that. And then, to add insult to injury, Bay hadn't even been her first thought when she'd come down from her mind-blowing orgasm. He'd been third.

  First, she'd been wishing for a second go-round.

  Second, fear had come. The more excited the Sent One had made her, the hotter she'd grown. Literally. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before, but she'd known the reason for it. Her Phoenix side.

  What would happen when Thane realized the truth about her? Would he hate her? Yes. Stake her? Maybe. Kick her out? Definitely.

  And, until then, what about his sexual needs?

  Needs change, he'd said, and maybe his had--for the moment. But what about later on? Would he want to hurt her for pleasure?

  She shuddered. After the miracle of tub time, she didn't want to deal with whips and chains. She didn't want to compare her time with Thane to her time with the Phoenix, whether the treatment would alleviate her guilt or not.

  No matter what way I look at this, he's not good for me. I should just stay away from him.

  Well, that wouldn't be a problem, she was sure. At this point, he wanted nothing to do with her, guaranteed. After she'd thanked him for the happy ending, the hurt had left his eyes, leaving them cold, blank. His lips had thinned, and the muscles in his jaw had tightened.

  It was an expression he'd shown to Kendra--just before he'd killed her. Did I make him feel like a discarded he-slut?

  Disheartened, she made her way to the gym for dodge-boulder practice. She couldn't afford to miss another one.

  Last time, the girls had tried to drill into her head the fact that she needed to aim low whenever she threw a stone. If she ever threw one. Not so low the intended victim could jump up and avoid being smacked, but just low enough that the missile couldn't be caught.

  "--he really did," Savy was saying as she stretched to the left, then the right.

  "What the eff! You lie," Chanel replied, bending down to touch her toes.

  "I'll give you my favorite shifter pelt if I am, and you'll give me yours if I'm not. Deal?" Savy spotted Elin and grinned slowly.

  Chanel rubbed her hands together. "Deal," she said. Then, noticing Elin, she added, "Settle a bet for us, Bonka. Thane flew into the city to get you while you were having a meltdown, then carried you away in his arms. Yes or no."

  Cue the embarrassment. Cheeks heating, she said, "Yes. But--"

  A grinning, whooping Savy fist-pumped the air, cutting her off, and Chanel cursed.

  The bet was about her. Great. "He was only there because the Phoenix king showed up," Elin added with gritted teeth. "You know how much he hates the Phoenix." Bitter finish, Vale. Check yourself before you wreck yourself.

  The girls shared a look loaded with mirth.

  "Oh, that's why?" Chanel said, her tone sly. "So, when he got there, he didn't go straight to you? He hunted the Phoenix king and put a stake through his effing heart?"

  "Well, no, but I was screaming and drawing all kinds of unwanted attention and he--"

  "Knocked you out to make you quit it," Savy said, just as sly. "Like he would have done to anyone else. Like I've seen him do to others."

  "No." He tenderly cared for me, and gave me an earth-shattering orgasm. "What are you guys trying to say?" And was that hope dripping from her words? Was she trying to drive them into saying Thane thought she was special?

  What could she do if they did? He'd just kicked her out of his bathroom.

  Yeah, and you'd just pulled a bang and bail, rushing to get away from him the moment you got your some-some.

  Yeah. He'd felt like a discarded he-slut.

  Shame and regret curdled in her stomach. Emotions that had nothing to do with Bay. She owed Thane an apology. Big-time.

  "You are too effing adorable for words, Bonka Donk." Chanel said, patting her on the cheek. "No wonder Thane wants a slice of you."

  Well, he'd already gotten a slice. Body and, it seemed, soul.

  *

  THANE, BJORN AND XERXES stalked to the roof of the club and in unison shot into the brilliant afternoon sky.

  Thane's wings glided up and down with an ease he didn't feel. The farther he flew from the club--from Elin--the tenser he became. Soon he would have to let her go, and he knew it. The more time he spent with her, the more he would want her, need her, have to have her. But he couldn't have her. Even if she stripped and climbed into his lap, he would never forget her shame. And over what? A few kisses? A wanton touch? A climax that had--what? Delighted every cell in her body? Betrayed her husband?

  That one, he thought, the muscles in his back jerking. If not fully, at least in part. She had loved the man so much, she had vowed to stay true to him. And she had--until Thane. What if her shame had been self-directed?

  Hope proved stronger than hurt, shattering the icy wall he'd tried to build against her allure. He wanted to return to the club and talk to her. Wanted to comfort her, and take comfort from her. They both had reservations about a relationship, but if they tried, they could work through them.

  Thane, Xerxes snapped inside his head.

  He blinked, realized he hadn't made a turn, and backtracked.

  Distracted? Bjorn asked, clearly trying not to laugh.

  Yes, he gritted.

  May I suggest knitting? Xerxes's tone was sly, teasing. It's very relaxing.

  No reason to suggest it. I'm already knitting a nightshirt--for your mother. Even teasing, he tasted the foulness of a lie, but he didn't care.

  Mother jokes? Bjorn tsked. How low the sophisticated Thane has fallen.

  I think he needs to fall a bit more. Xerxes rolled above Thane, clipping his wing and sending him plummeting several hundred feet before he caught himself.

  Thane came up grinning. If he hadn't seen his destination looming straight ahead, he would have played air chicken with his friend, something they hadn't done in years.

  He arrowed toward the cloud of smoke wafting from the center of the woodlands just outside Amartia City, where Elin had shopped and Bellorie had killed one of the Phoenix. Roughly two hours had passed since then, and the warrior was clearly in the process of regenerating.

  Thane reached the crest of the smoke and descended. Seeing the Phoenix, he hovered in the sky alongside his friends, remaining in the spirit realm, unseen to all but Sent Ones, angels, demons and the rare immortal, watching as the slain warrior burned atop a stone altar. Two other males stood beside him, chanting. One of the chanters was Kendra's husband, Ricker.

  He'll expect to have a chat with me.

  Very well.

  Ardeo, the king, knelt in front of a campfire, his head bowed as he tugged at his hair. He cried "Malta" at the top of his lungs, over and over again. His sorrow was as fresh today as it had been the day of her
death several weeks ago.

  Eight of his best fighters were armed and spread out around him, peering into the trees, watching for any threat.

  Thane floated to the ground.

  "Dead or alive?" Bjorn asked, doing the same.

  "Alive if possible." For two reasons. He wouldn't risk another punishment from Zacharel, and he didn't want any of these men regenerating and strengthening.

  Together, he, Xerxes and Bjorn stepped into the natural realm, going from invisible to seen in less than a second. The Phoenix guarding Ardeo noticed and reacted instantly, unsheathing swords and spinning to face them--then marching forward.

  Thane tucked his wings into his back and reached into his air pocket to withdraw a pair of short swords. When the warriors reached him, he sprang into the air, twisted and struck two from behind as they raced past the spot he'd just vacated. Both males tumbled to the grass face-first--each missing an arm. Twin howls of pain erupted.

  Xerxes stood in place, letting his opponents come to him. He bent. He ducked. He swung. He kicked. He remained in a constant state of motion, delivering more hits than he received.

  Bjorn zigzagged through the air, attacking and retreating.

  Two of the bigger males struck Thane from behind, hacking at his wings. Hissing, Thane turned and swung his weapons in a wide arc. The tips sliced through skin and muscle, but not bone. The males had jumped back, avoiding more serious injuries. And when Thane swung a second time, both were ready and parried. Metal clanged against metal.

  Ricker the War Ender shoved the pair out of the way. "I want my wife!" he roared, spittle spraying from his mouth. He raised his sword.

  "Even though she preferred me?" Thane asked, genuinely curious.

  Teeth bared, Ricker lunged at him. Thane shot into the air, then dropped behind the male and swung his sword. But the War Ender knew what he was about and spun, meeting Thane's blade. Clang.

  He swung high. Clang.

  He swung low. Clang.

  He went low again. Clang.

  Grinding his teeth, Thane slashed one of his swords toward Ricker's left, and as the warrior parried, sending the weapon flying, Thane stabbed at his right side with the other. Metal finally encountered flesh.

  Ricker didn't react as expected. He pressed deeper into the blade. The tip slid from belly to back, allowing him to draw closer and closer to Thane. When they were chest to chest, Ricker raised a sword. With his free hand, Thane grabbed his wrist, stopping a strike. But Ricker raised his other sword, and this time Thane couldn't stop him. The blade sliced through his shoulder.