“How can you be so scorching hot?” he asked. “Silken fire gripping me in a tight fist.”
She reveled in the wonder and raw desire in his voice. She loved that she made him feel this way, the same amazing way he made her feel. She rode him at a furious, fiery pace, and when he leaned forward to lick at her breast, the fire that had been building and building, crowned, exploding through her with tremendous force, taking him with her.
For a moment the edges around her vision went red with flames. She felt them licking over her skin like a thousand hot tongues. She circled his neck with her arms and leaned against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it, Zev, but when I’m with you like this, every bad thing in my life is gone. You wipe it away, so that for these precious moments, I’m a clean slate and the only thing written there is your name.”
“That’s an extraordinary thing to say to me,” Zev said. “Thank you.”
She turned her face into his neck. “I thought, once we were out of the ice caves, that we would never have to deal with anything as evil as Xavier ever again.”
Zev’s hand slid up her back, pressing her closer to him. There was intimacy in his touch, but in a comforting way. His fingers reached the nape of her neck and began a slow massage. He didn’t say anything, and she was grateful. It was important to tell him the things she needed to while she had the chance.
“I’m not naïve. I know the problems facing our people, so I was prepared for hard times, although a war with the Lycans might have been more than I ever considered. Still, I know I could handle it.”
Branislava rubbed her face back and forth in the warm space between his neck and shoulder. He smelled masculine and strong and right then, when her fears began to resurface, she needed him.
“Mage-shadowing is truly evil, Zev. The mage can access his victim at any time and force compliance. Often the victim is worn down over time, especially if their will is strong, as in the case of my nephew, Razvan, until they’re weak and confused. The mage strikes them then and can force them to do things completely against everything they believe in.”
“I don’t understand the difference between a splinter and a shadow.”
“Xavier used a splinter of himself in Razvan so that he was living inside of Razvan’s body, but a shadow is an actual portal for the mage to travel through. The splinter can leave the body at any time and seek another host. Few leave a splinter of themselves behind for any length of time because there is a danger to the maker, should the splinter be found and destroyed. A shadow is a doorway to be accessed at any time. The risk of discovery is very small and one can build in all sorts of traps.”
Branislava slowly sat up. A small shiver went through her body when the action caused friction against her most sensitive spot. “I’d much rather stay here for the rest of the night with you, locked together like this, but we have to go back.”
He sighed and ran his hand down the back of her head, caressing the silky braid. “Fen is having trouble keeping Tatijana from looking for you,” he admitted. “She wanted to follow you and make certain you were all right.”
Branislava nodded her head several times, but made no move to get off his lap. If anything, she tightened the muscles surrounding him as if she could hold him to her forever. “I did leave rather abruptly. That poor man. Damon. I guess I shouldn’t have ruined his coffee. I can’t imagine what he thinks I found in him.”
“What did you find?”
Her entire body shuddered. She pressed her lips together and looked around her as if she might spot an enemy spying on them. Very gently she used his shoulders to pull herself up, a little reluctantly, but she did it.
“I’ll tell you when we’re back at the house. Not out here. Not in the open.”
Zev didn’t press her. She looked scared. Whatever she had found in Damon’s brain had been traumatizing enough to send her flying into the night. She needed to work it out herself and come to terms with it before she faced everyone.
“I suppose this means you’re going to get dressed.” He changed the subject, using a sulky tone, hoping to use amusement to distance her mind from the trauma.
“I think it best,” she said, giving him a look from under her long lashes.
“I don’t. Maybe you could just stand there for a few minutes and let me admire you.” He was already clean and fully clothed, back in his normal everyday ready-for-combat clothes.
She smiled, shaking her head. “Your appetite is insatiable.”
“I’m a wolf, what did you expect?” He bared his teeth at her, looking hungry all over again. “My appetite for you is insatiable. It’s my sincere desire to ensure that every time we make love you are so enraptured and captivated by my expertise that you can’t wait for the next time, because, believe me mon chaton féroce, there will be many, many next times.”