Mingled with that aching need had been ... a lingering tenderness for her. And maybe even a thread of guilt for threatening her swords.

Which disgusted him. Had the dream been an entrancement, or something new?

He pushed himself over precarious forest trails, ripping off his shirt, leaving only his fatigue pants and boots.

He ignored the tree limbs that raked his bared chest, ignored his burning lungs as he covered mile after mile. Lightning struck all around and the winds howled, but he savored the wildness of the night, the bite of rain driving against his scarred skin.

Anything but succumb to that dream of the Valkyrie.

Somehow she'd made him experience that scene. A day of firsts, she'd told him. Her first time to suck off a man. And he'd imagined it, as if on cue, his mind supplying details to build on her story. Just as she'd intended.

Declan had even dreamed of pleasuring her-a detrus-with his mouth. Which just made him even more suspicious. Because his own predilections didn't match his dream.

Unlike Aidan, Declan had never gone down on a woman, had never had that kind of time to spare during sex. Not before he would grow sick.

In truth, he'd never much seen to a woman's pleasure at all . And though he was certain he'd received o**l s*x in the hazy days before his body had been maimed, he couldn't quite recal it.

This isn't me. I don't want her for these things ...

Perhaps the Valkyrie had some power he wasn't aware of. Maybe a dreamcasting ability, like the dream demons possessed. Which meant an element of mind control.

He was a man who needed constant control over every aspect of his life, a man who worshipped strength and will . The last time I had them taken from me ...

The Valkyrie would pay for toying with him.

He pushed himself until his lungs were heaving and his muscles quaked. Mud splashed up, all over his shuddering body, and still he ran.

Running as if something pursued him.

Chapter EIGHTEEN

Chase is having the dreams.

As soon as Vincente escorted her into the magister's office the next night, Regin knew. Chase had begun reliving Aiden's time with her, remembering them sexually.

His eyes were on her like a hawk's, his gaze possessive and familiar. He was looking at her like a man who'd seen her naked-and liked the view.

The dreams marked the beginning of the end for each of Aidan's reincarnations. normally this stage would send her into hysterics.

But now it meant progress. Right? Press on, Regin.

"Leave us," Chase told the guard, never glancing away from her.

Vincente turned without a word, his face expression-less as usual.

When they were alone, Regin said, "Vincente doesn't think it's weird for me to be coming here?"

"It's not his job to think. He's only supposed to fol ow my orders."

Chase's voice was natural y raspy, but tonight it was even huskier, making her ears twitch in reaction. "So, I was about to lodge a formal complaint about Fegley," she said. "But this doesn't seem to be a customer-service-oriented establishment." Again, she hopped up on his desk, onto his perfectly stacked papers. His brows drew together, but he didn't bother ordering her away.

"Any minute now, I expect that little tool to say, 'It rubs the lotion on its skin.' He's gonna meet a bad end."

"You're psychic now? Or making futile plans?"

"I'm just old." She sighed. "You see guys like him over and over, and you get to be a crack at predicting it. And speaking of ridiculously ineffectual workers ... Dixon keeps staring at me with those buggy Where's Waldo? glasses. It's almost as if she's fantasizing about playing with my insides. Oh, wait. She is." Regin tilted her head. "I'll bet she fantasizes about you even more."

"Jealous?"

She rol ed her eyes at him. "Of course I'm jealous."

"I'm surprised you'd admit it."

"You were mine first. My dibs are ten centuries old."

"What Dixon and I do is none of your concern."

"Wel , if she's your type, then whatever. I just thought a man like you would crave a real woman.

Someone who's strong enough to handle your power and sensual enough to slake you." Regin moved to the center of his desk, sitting atop another stack of papers. This time he didn't seem to notice at all.

"At least she is a woman. And not a Valkyrie."

"Baby, I'm all woman." She spread her legs suggestively, so he was sitting between them. "Uncuff me and let me show you what you've been missing all your life."

***

Declan believed she'd do it. He could lay her back on that desk, strip off her clothes, and enter her right now.

The most beautiful woman he'd ever encountered.

And for a moment, everything within him was in perfect accord with the idea.

All day his thoughts had returned to that dream of her and the berserker. He'd grown hard at intervals, wondering how much longer he could go without relieving the pressure that continued to build.

His concentration had been wrecked, his workload escalating. Running an instal ation of this size was a job for five men-and he delegated little-but he'd never minded, preferring to stay slammed with work. Now it felt like the reins were slipping from his grasp. Professional y, personal y. Sexually?

"Come on, Chase," she murmured, "I can feel your tension-you're like a powder keg about to blow."

They will separate you from your purpose ... "I'd never lower myself to bed one of your kind."

She shrugged, but he thought he caught a flash of hurt in her eyes. "Might not be me. But it's not Dixon, either."

"So certain?"

"I know you, remember?"

"Prove it, then."

"I know you're in constant turmoil. Your past lives competing with your present." She lowered her voice.

"You once told me that it feels like a beast is inside you, frenzied to get out. From the look on your face, you still feel that way."

How the hel could she know that?

Years ago, when Declan had finally confessed to Webb about that constant sense of urgency clawing

at him, Webb had nodded knowingly. "It's a calling, son. That's what you feel, have always felt." Declan was to channel that into his vocation-destroying the deathless ones.

So why did the strain fade whenever he was with Regin?

"You dreamed about me last night, didn't you?" she asked. "You always used to in the past, told me you did right up to the point when you remembered all ."

Immediately on edge, he demanded, "How did you make me experience that dream? Was it dreamcasting?"

"I don't have that ability."




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