He flashed another lopsided grin and she gritted her teeth, more to keep from smiling back than anything. He had the charming angle down pat. “I still don’t remember anything that happened last night. Maybe if you filled me in, it would jog my memory?”
“See, your problem is that you think you can manipulate this conversation in your favor. That’s just not going to happen, Ronan. So, you claim you can’t remember anything that’s happened since you breezed into town. Whenever that was. For the record, I’m not sure that I believe that, but we’ll just skip over that for now. You have the answer to my next question and I want it. No more stalling. What is this tether? Does it have to do with the magic you’ve stolen?”
Ronan fixed her with a dubious stare. “Naya, I haven’t stolen any magic. In fact, I wouldn’t even know how to go about doing that. But I can guarantee you, pilfered magic or not, it has nothing to do with our tether.”
Our. The word was spoken with a possessive edge that caused chills to break out over her flesh. As if this tether was some shared thing between them, something that Naya had been a willing party to.
It wasn’t unusual to encounter other witches or supernatural creatures that came by their magic naturally. But even witches who used their natural power to channel dark magic had to answer for it eventually. It wasn’t Naya’s business to police them, however. She paid them little mind unless their dealings affected the tribe directly. Those instances were few and far between.
In the course of her job as an enforcer she mostly came across thieves and usurpers. Creatures that could no longer be counted as human once the magic they’d stolen had corrupted them. Ronan was an anomaly to her. She knew nothing about vampires or what innate magic they might possess. Either way, the power he’d exhibited the night she’d first seen him had been volatile. He’d been damn near ready to blow. But the sound of his magic—the pure, perfect tune that could so easily become tainted—was in direct contrast to everything she knew. And the way the song spoke to her scared her more than she was willing to admit.
* * *
Ronan rolled his shoulders again in an effort to ease the knot that had settled between his shoulder blades. The slow, even breaths weren’t doing a damn thing for the unease that had begun to coil in his stomach like a tightly wound spring. He focused on his surroundings, on Naya, the sound of her voice … but it wasn’t doing anything for the panic that continued to creep up on him as he tugged against the cuffs that bound his hands behind his back. His bloodlust sparked anew, fire meeting dry kindling in his throat. What he’d taken from her was merely a taste, not nearly enough to satisfy his thirst. Her scent drove him mad; the rich bloom of her arousal perfumed the air. A fiery female with a tendency for violence. Just the sort of trait Ronan admired in a bedmate.
The cuffs chafed his skin and Ronan clenched his jaw until his fangs dug into his bottom lip. Blood welled from the punctures and he flicked out with his tongue. Deeply unsatisfied. Despite the silver that continued to blister the skin at his wrists, he’d break his bonds in an instant to get to her. To taste her again. To feel the petal softness of her sex as he teased her.
Focus, you lust-addled bastard. Keep your shit together. Do. Not. Lose. Control.
Naya quirked a brow at his low growl. “Agitated, vampire? Believe me, it’s nothing in comparison to what I’m feeling now. In fact, I’m starting to feel a little stabby. So get to talking.”
Gods, her fire. Ronan squared his shoulders, stamped the lust that threatened to master him to the soles of his feet. “Before I explain, tell me, Naya, do you feel our tether?” Ronan carefully gauged her reaction. Most people didn’t realize that even when they tried to stay expressionless, the tiniest shift or twitch could give away their thoughts. Naya had a great poker face, though. She was obviously well practiced at keeping her face virtually impassive.
“There is … something,” she answered with reluctance. Damn, her dark eyes bored right through him as if he were completely inconsequential. He didn’t like it. “But I’m inclined to believe that what’s drawing me to you is nothing more than the magic in your body and my own responding to it. Mates are paired in my world. And the last time I checked, no one gave me to a vampire.”
Gave her? Like she was nothing more than goods to be traded. A territorial growl rose in Ronan’s chest. Who were these people that they’d trade Naya like stock? “In my world,” he countered, “a soul gives itself. Mine had been banished to oblivion. Yours called it back. My soul is tied to yours, Naya. Tethered. That makes you my mate.”