"I didn't know." Anka spoke the truth. "Shock and I don't talk much."
The women exchanged glances. Felicia could feel their surprise. After escaping Mathias, Anka had left Lucan for Shock. Did she now regret it?
"Can I help you?" Sabelle asked.
"Don't shut me out and treat me like the enemy! I'm not. I know you don't like Shock or trust him. He's ... not who you think. Living with him, I've come to see a different side. Something in him is broken. I can't stay there anymore."
There was no hiding the surprise on Sabelle's face. Or any of the other women's.
"You wish to stay here?"
"Yes. And I want Marrok to train me. I want to fight."
Olivia gaped. "Mathias? You want to be a warrior?"
Anka nodded before the question ended. "I want my revenge, and I won't get it hiding behind Shock's leathers. I need to do this."
Sabelle hesitated. "I'll bring it up to Bram, but ..."
"Convince him. Please. Shock is on a bender. He's totally drunk. It's not the first time." Fresh tears pooled in Anka's amber eyes and she let out a shaky breath. "Or the tenth. I can't stay there."
Sabelle's eyes nearly popped from her head. Shock? Even Felicia was stunned.
That didn't fit with the sharp, sarcastic wizard she'd met earlier. But the woman wasn't lying.
"The war is tearing him up. He fights with his brother constantly. It's vicious, and they've threatened to kill each other. He's at Mathias's beck and call. Sometimes, Shock returns looking shaken, and he doesn't want to talk, just drink." She bit her lip, then whispered, "We barely ..."
Upon closer inspection, Anka looked exhausted, and Felicia understood. Shock wasn't spending much time between the sheets with this witch.
"But that's not my reason for leaving," Anka explained. "I ... I need to fight."
Dead silence. Felicia certainly didn't know what to say. She tended to keep her feelings to herself, and yet Anka had poured everything out in minutes. The confusion and anguish in her voice ... Felicia couldn't fail to be moved by it.
Olivia crossed the room and put an arm around Anka. "Why?"
"I shouldn't have hidden away after my rape. I was stunned. At the time, I wanted someone who would shelter me and wouldn't demand much of me. Or so I thought. But I see now that I need to stand on my own. I won't feel safe until I can defend myself. And I won't be at peace until Mathias is dead."
Felicia understood and admired Anka for surviving the horror and emerging stronger--but she was worried that the woman pursued a path that would ultimately kill her.
"I don't know if Bram will allow a female warrior," Sabelle admitted. "And Lucan will give him twenty kinds of hell if he lets you anywhere near Mathias."
Anka's eyes slid shut. Regret etched deeply into her face. "Why should he care after what I've done? Hiding behind Shock like a scared girl and sleeping with the enemy ..."
Olivia drew closer. "Anka, you went through hell. No one blamed you for retreating into your shell. We just all assumed ... Well, you and Lucan were always so in love that--"
"You assumed I'd come back." She sniffed back new tears. "I ... can't. I'm not the same woman. He wouldn't want me if he knew the whole truth."
"I don't think he expected you to be exactly the same. Everyone knows such an 111
experience would change you," Sabelle assured.
Anka closed the subject with a tight smile. "Can I wait for Bram here?"
Sabelle and the other women exchanged glances again. Personally, Felicia couldn't imagine throwing this anguished woman out. "If I get a vote, it's yes," she offered. "Mathias is chasing me like mad, and I understand your need to fight."
Anka approached her and smiled. It was sad, wobbly, not perfect. But it was genuine.
"Thank you," the witch whispered. "Duke is a good man. I wish you every happiness."
"It's ..." Temporary. Or was it? After this, could she leave Hurstgrove? Marry Mason?
I won't rest until your heart ismine.
Her heart skipped a beat. If she stayed, how could she possibly insulate her feelings from a man like Hurstgrove? Two kisses and a few words, and she was falling under his spell. What would happen if she allowed him to take her to his bed?
Felicia swallowed. "It's ... complicated."
Anka laughed. "He's complicated, so that's no surprise."
A sudden crash of the door against the wall, coupled with a feral growl, startled Felicia. Her blood froze and her heart flipped over. Fearing attack, she whirled.
It wasn't Mathias and the Anarki. Instead, she found danger of another kind.
Hurstgrove. His hair was uncharacteristically mussed, as if he'd raked a hand through it over and over. His pupils were dilated. A flush darkened his bronzed face. His wide chest, visible beneath his half unbuttoned shirt, rose and fell with each agitated breath. Need jumped through her belly, then pulsed lower.
"Felicia." His normally cultured voice rattled across the room, echoing off the walls. Stark. Aggressive.
Sexual.
Oh dear God. His intent was unmistakable. He'd come to claim her.
Chapter 11
FELICIA BIT HER LIP as her gaze traveled down, over Hurstgrove's hard abdominals and narrow hips to see-- Bloody hell. He was aroused. Very.
In response, her body throbbed, the ache deep, strong, demanding. She released a ragged breath, her yearning to touch him so deep, she clenched her fist to contain it.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the other women exchange meaningful glances.
Felicia frowned. "Hurstgrove, I--"
"Damn it! My bloody name is Simon." He charged across the room and clasped her in a feverishly tight grip. "You are my mate. Say my name."
She hesitated. If she did, would the added intimacy give him the green light to ravish her and draw her deeper under his spell? They should seal this union. But as desperately as she wanted him, how could sharing a bed with him not affect her heart?
No doubt he was the sort of lover who made lying back and thinking of England impossible. She shivered. It wasn't merely the sex--at which Felicia had no doubt he'd be quite skilled--but the intimacy. His kisses. His touch. His sensual heat. His whispered words. His possession. All would deepen her feelings, put her heart in peril. The part of her that had never stopped weeping after Deirdre's death was terrified of being that unguarded with anyone again.
Felicia tried to ease away from Hurstgrove. His grip held like iron. Both panic and excitement zipped through her.
He glared at the other women. "Get out. Now."
Jaws dropping, Kari exited quickly, followed by Sydney and Anka. Olivia paused to pat her shoulder on her way out the door.
"Wait!" she called after them.
They went on, falling quickly out of sight. Only Sabelle lingered in the doorway.
Felicia tried to swallow her rising desire and anxiety. "What's happening?"
Hurstgrove's fingers dug deeper into her shoulders. "What should have happened the moment you spoke the Binding. I'm going to kiss you, then sink deep inside of you until you know exactly which brother you belong to."
Felicia sucked in a breath, her insides pulsing at his words.
"It's mating fever," Sabelle murmured. "His instincts ... He kissed you some days ago, sending his body into awareness. Once he spoke the Call, he became a ticking bomb." Regret spread over her soft features. "Sorry. I should have realized ..."
That Hurstgrove would become sexually demanding? Felicia looked up into his blunt, dominating stare. He wanted her; he meant to take her.
Ignoring her attraction was her best means of self-preservation. Two days ago, she could have. The past twenty-four hours had peeled back his layers, proving he was brave, committed, smart, self-sacrificing. Nothing like Alexei. After fleeing through the night with Hurstgrove, kissing him, Binding to him, something in her had changed. She'd cleaved to him in some way that had nothing to do with the words they'd exchanged and everything to do with her feelings for him. Knowing he'd visited a surrogate had ripped her open with a hurt she didn't want to experience again. But if she refused him, she 113
would.
Doing without him now would hurt her more.
Felicia rubbed at her forehead in confusion. For the first time, she was tempted to indulge in the heady rush of sensations and emotions coursing through her ... even at the risk to her heart.
Still, if his fixation with her faded, Hurstgrove could crush her. If? No, when. But what would happen if she rejected him now, didn't seal this union? Mathias would find her and kill them both.
"What happens now?" she whispered to the witch.
Hurstgrove leaned closer until Felicia felt the heat of his body pouring off in waves. A drumbeat of desire pounded inside her. "Buckle up, Sunshine. I plan to strip you bare and taste you, before I sink my cock inside you, so deep for so long, you won't remember ever being without me."
Felicia's desire ramped up viciously.
"It's a fever. It will pass," Sabelle assured. "If you don't want this, I'll call my Aunt Millie. She can sedate him. She'll only need to keep him under for a few weeks. A month at most."
A month! Everything inside her rebelled against that. It was too cruel. And too dangerous.
Hurstgrove had risked everything to save her, done his best to respect her boundaries, even allowing himself to sink into this fever, rather than press her. Even now, with every muscle taut and trembling, he restrained himself, awaiting her reply.
"If we don't sedate him?" She heard her own voice shake.
Sabelle hesitated, looking as if she was deciding how to break bad news.
Having no such qualms, Hurstgrove gripped Felicia's chin and forced her to meet his gaze. "There isn't anything or anyone that will stop me from taking you in every way I possibly can, every moment of every day, until you know you're mine."
Sabelle nodded. "That sums it up."
Felicia's belly flipped over. Did the man have any idea that the utter possession in his words were a blowtorch to the ice around her heart?
But, a voice whispered, how long could that devotion last, especially when magic didn't truly bind them together? When he didn't actually love her for her?
"Felicia?" Face tense, eyes burning, Hurstgrove demanded an answer.
The way he said her name turned her knees liquid. Then he cradled her head in a desperate grip and leaned closer, hot breath fanning over her lips. His male, musky scent shot a million tingles through her.
She'd never felt as alive as she did right now.
"Should I call for Millie?" Sabelle raised a golden brow.
She had to decide. Here. Now. Say no and protect her heart--or embrace the frightening, burgeoning feelings she had for Hurstgrove, knowing that, once done, he would have more power to hurt her than she'd ever allowed any man?
Felicia licked her lips and stared. Her heart seized, then thumped wildly in her chest. She knew the answer to her question.
"I won't need Millie."
"Good choice." Sabelle smiled, then slipped out.
Before the door closed behind the witch, Hurstgrove gripped Felicia tighter, 114
shaking with restraint. His touch seared her. "Be very sure. The fever is strong. Once I start ..."
He wouldn't be able to stop.
It was mad, but deep down, that fact thrilled her. It was probably foolish, but she wanted him to want her more than he could bear. She wanted him to ache and need--and take her as though he couldn't get enough. As though everything between them was real and lasting. Because she felt all those things as well.
So dangerous ...
Felicia met his dark stare. "I'm sure."
She'd been trying to suppress her feelings for Hurstgrove since the moment they met. Hour by hour, he'd crept deeper into her thoughts, burrowing into some corner of her heart. Spending another minute denying the fact that she needed to feel him wasn't possible. This once, she would give herself to him completely.
Without warning, he growled again and lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. Felicia had no opportunity to react before he covered her mouth with his. Single-minded and savage, he kissed her, his lips raking over her own, pressing, demanding that she open to him. The second she did, he barged in, sinking deep. His rich taste intoxicated her, flooding her senses, bursting her need wide open.
As desire bombarded her, she curled her fingers through his silky hair, pulling him closer. She met every thrust of his tongue, every silent demand for more, with one of her own.
Gripping her hips, he prodded her against his erection and crossed the room. The friction had her gasping into their endless kiss.
A second later, he backed her against the stone wall, then crushed her breasts against his hard chest. Felicia arched to him. He took all she offered and more, his mouth hungry, decimating hers, before nipping his way across her jaw, down her neck. She gasped under the gentle yet rough scrapes of his teeth and the insistence of his hot and hungry lips. Tingles burst and scattered through her body.
What had ever felt so perfect?
Slowly, Hurstgrove set her on her feet and tore off his shirt. She shivered under his broiling stare. Built lean and muscled, his chest, shoulders, and arms all bulged, hard and so very male. Restlessly, Felicia shifted and pressed her thighs tightly together, but that only deepened her ache. She'd never imagined this kind of desire, like something out of a movie, never believed it could chip away at her resistance, obliterating all but the need to connect completely with him.
