Damian's Oracle

"Han, bring up some food," he said without turning to look at the blond man in the doorway.

Han disappeared.

Sofia was afraid to ask where she was, who the man was before her. Instead, she watched a man many, many times her strength gently clean the blood from her arm in unhurried, methodical strokes. His touch sent a tremor of fire through her, and she was embarrassed to feel her hormones stir.

Here she sat, covered in blood, drugged, one day from being all out crazy, then kidnapped-and the sight of the man before her turned her on. What was wrong with her?

He was the sexiest man she'd ever seen, and the swirling aura of command only amplified his physical appeal. It didn't take much for her to imagine what the body beneath the tight shirt was like. Wide shoulders, chiseled chest, rippling abs … even his scent-of pure man mixed with the mystery of night-lured her like an animal falling for a hunter's bait. His attraction was inhuman.

"You okay?" he asked, his quiet, gravelly voice making her heart quicken. He glanced up at her, amusement in the upturned corner of his full lips.

She met his gaze with a nod, and they looked at each other until her face flushed. She cleared her throat and looked down. The wound on her arm was gone. She pulled her arm from his grip and stared at it, twisting it left and right before lowering it.

In fact, she felt no pain at all, anywhere. She kicked out her wounded leg. It, too, was healed. All that was left was to clean the blood.

"I'm going crazy," she said, voice tightening. "Oh God, I'm going crazy!" Her vision blurred with tears, and she stood precariously.

"You're not so good on your feet yet," D said.

She felt his arms around her and leaned into him, surprised at how natural it felt to be held against a complete stranger who made her want to flee for the hills and strip naked at the same time.

"You're not going crazy," he assured her. "When you're well, we'll talk."

"You know what's wrong with me."

"Yes."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Damian Bylun. If I'm not mistaken, you called me for help." His warm chest vibrated against her cheek as he chuckled.

Suddenly, she wasn't so sure she wanted his help. Damian Bylun was not a doctor. Hell, she had serious doubts he was even human. She didn't know what he was, and she had a feeling he'd welcomed her into a world that belonged solely to him.

God help me.

*****

Damian wasn't sure how someone going from the second to first floor had managed to get bloody enough to look like she crawled through a war zone. Most women were too intimidated to go near him, let alone get close enough to throw their arms around him. This one clung to him as if he were the only thing preventing her from being swept overboard. He'd watched her thoughts of him naked, flattered and turned on. It'd been too long since a normal woman overcame his first impression.