She drew a shaky breath. Darkyn's face hovered next to hers. The ancient intelligence in his gaze terrified her, and she couldn't escape the scent of blood and sex that left her feeling intoxicated and wanting more of him.
"I'm yours, Darkyn," she whispered.
The predatory smile crossed his face. She tried to twist away from him. He held her in place.
"You got what you wanted," she objected. "You win!"
"Say it again."
She stopped struggling, overcome by feelings.
"I'm yours, Darkyn," she said.
"You don't yet accept it," he observed. "You will soon, love. You will know before the week is out where you belong."
She rolled away from him, not wanting to cry in front of him but unable to prevent the tears that were starting to form.
Darkyn left her silently. Only when he was gone did she let herself cry.