Therian Prisoner(23)

She’d spent half her adolescence trying to draw Ian’s attention. It was only after her father told her to stop “lusting after that damn bird” or he’d throw Ian off their land that Devon toned down her antics and focused on boys her own age. Then her father had died and everything changed. Her mother changed and Kyle changed and her inappropriate infatuation had seemed childish even to her. In fact, she’d thought she was over her thing for Ian until he flew to her rescue tonight.

Ian slipped one arm under her neck and wrapped the other around her waist. The position was intimate yet comforting. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine falling asleep in her lover’s arms. Then Ian’s scent filled her nose, connecting her fragmented thoughts. What would it be like to fall asleep in Ian’s arms?

Heat curled through her belly and tension melted from her body as she let the images form. They’d exhaust themselves with bouts of passionate lovemaking and then they’d snuggle together as they drifted off to asleep. Just the thought of it curled her toes.

“It might not have made a difference, you know.” His deep voice intruded on her half-formed fantasy.

“What?”

“If you were the only female who hadn’t been defined, why weren’t the others able to escape?”

The others hadn’t been given the opportunity to rip out the throats of their guards. She shuddered as her mind took her back to the moment. Dhane had been vicious and unrelenting, focused entirely on the kill. It had all happened in a matter of seconds, so why were the images so detailed?

She cleared her throat as she forced the scenes back into the depths of her memory. “The staff at the original lab was well trained and ruthless. If it hadn’t been for a newbie guard, Dhane would have been as helpless as everyone else.” She wiggled a little, hating that she’d just made Ian’s point for him. “That’s why I want you to define me. I don’t want to snarl and roar. I want to fly.”

His arm tightened slightly as he chuckled and tingles raced down her spine. “It only took me three hundred years to master the partial shift and another fifty to learn how to use my wings well enough to get off the ground.”

She rolled to her back and stared up at him, astonished by the implication. “Three hundred and fifty years? How old are you?”

He laughed, white teeth flashing in the dimness before seriousness overtook his expression again. “I’ve been telling you ever since we met that I’m too old for you. Are you finally going to believe me?”

Propping herself up on her elbow, she faced him. “Answer the question. When were you born?”

“Nine months after my mother conceived.”

Mischief made his eyes sparkle and desire spread through her soul. She had never wanted to kiss anyone as much as she wanted to kiss Ian. She couldn’t explain the reaction, but he’d never looked more appealing than he did at that moment. Laughter had been sorely lacking in her life since her father died. If Ian could make her feel safe and happy, what more could she possibly want? She pressed her teeth into her lower lip and balled her hands in the quilt, determined not to make a complete ass of herself. He didn’t think of her like that, probably never would.

Using curiosity to force away the awkward impulse, she pressed on, “Are you hundreds or thousands of years old? Why don’t you age?”

“I’m not sure exactly when I was born. The passage of time meant little back then. The sun rose and set. Seasons came and went. We fought wars and people died. Beyond that, life seldom changed.”

“That’s an evasion if I ever heard one. Round it to the nearest century. How old are you?”

He sighed then admitted, “Sixteen hundred and twenty years, give or take a decade.”

She sat again, momentarily stunned beyond words. It was quickly becoming apparent how little she knew about him. Is this why she’d never seen him with a mate? Had he outlived several or many? “Did you ever have a mate? Do you have children? Great-great-great-grandchildren stashed away somewhere?”

“I was mated once, a very long time ago.” He sat as well, mirroring her position as he folded his legs in front of him. “She was killed before we had children.”

“And you never tried again? I thought continuing the bloodline was an instinctive drive for Therian males.”

“It is. But unlike Therian felines who can form a bond with anyone they choose, Therian raptors must search for that one special person who triggers the ‘pull’ in them. It’s an extremely strong attraction that makes it obvious the couple is meant to bond for life.”