The mine exploded. Sebastian pushed her back behind him, much as he had that night at Riora's assembly.

When the air cleared, she edged beside him and saw Bowen shuddering, lying on his front where he'd landed. Blood ran freely from his mouth. He mumbled what sounded like a woman's name. Of course, his mate's name.

He seemed to sense they were still there, and raised his face. She hissed in a breath at the sight. One eye was gone, and the left side of his forehead and temple had been burned away. But his wasted body and dazed mind were still desperate for the prize, for the mate he'd lost as she'd fled him so many years ago. Somehow he was digging those claws into the ground to drag himself forward.

"Trace me, Sebastian," she whispered. He did nothing. "He'll hit another mine if we stay."

"Exactly." Sebastian's eyes were dark as the night and chilling. "He deserves it for what he did to you."

Bowen was crawling toward them, and Cindey was walking in circles, blood pouring from her ears, mumbling something... something about a baby, and Kaderin couldn't watch any longer. In the past, she'd have looked on with satisfaction as her competitors suffered.

But she was different now. Or, more accurately, she was as she used to be from the very beginning.

"Please, Bastian," she cried, turning to grab his shirt with both hands. He tensed with surprise, studying her face. Whatever he saw in her expression had him wrapping her tightly in his arms and tracing her away.

Bowen's anguished roars echoed in her ears long after they'd disappeared.

Chapter 19

31

Back in her flat, she shivered in her wet clothes. The storm seemed to have followed them to London and raged outside. Dusk had just settled over the city. It was six hours earlier here than in Cambodia, which meant the night had started over for her. For them.

Without a word, he tucked the box into his jacket pocket, then took her hand, leading her to her bathroom. He turned on the shower, then began to unbutton her shirt.

His eyes were as wild as that Lykae's had been. "Do you want that box, Kaderin?"

She nodded, still out of breath.

He pushed her shirt past her shoulders, then pulled it down her arms, freeing it. "You have to pay for it." He unclasped the fastening at the front of her soaked-through bra, then it, too, fell to the ground. At the sight of her br**sts, he inhaled deeply but didn't touch her, only continued to undress her. She had to hold on to his shoulders as he unzipped her pants and dragged them and her panties from her.

When she stood before him, completely unclothed, she asked in a bewildered tone, "What do you want?" She was still dazed - not only by the violence of the night, but by that look of his in the rain. She shivered to recall it.

"Wash off the mud, and come to the bedroom," he ordered, his voice rough.

She stared at the door for long moments after he left. Then she noticed, in her bathroom, all of his things. Razor, toothbrush, soap. The bastard had moved in? Her attention had been focused on him when they first arrived, but now she could recall seeing books and newspapers lying scattered throughout the flat. A pair of boots had been kicked off at the door. "The bloody squatter," she muttered as she stepped under the water.

As she scrubbed away at the mud covering her, she wondered what he would demand. She was infuriated, but at the same time, she was burning with curiosity.

Would he try to drink her again? Or make love to her? Or both? She hated that imagining either made her aroused.

But even though she truly yearned to make love to the man she'd seen in the storm and confusion tonight, she wouldn't be coerced into it.

After washing her hair, she dried off and shrugged into a pink silk robe. When she returned to the bedroom, stepping around his things, he stood.

He'd removed his wet jacket and shirt. His chest was still damp, the muscles tense. His eyes were black once more. "Come here," he said, and she could barely make her feet move.

Worrying her bottom lip, she crossed to him. When she stood in front of him, he wasted no time, palming the curves of her ass under her robe, making her gasp.

Then he languidly kissed her neck with slow licks, before dipping to her br**sts. When he sucked her nipple through the silk, she moaned, and her knees went weak. But he held her firmly.

"Bastian," she breathed. "I want to tell you something." Would he believe she never intended to go to bed with Gamboa?

He drew away. "The time for talking is over. Now, do you want your trinket or not?"

"I won't make love to you," she told him.

His lips curled into a cruel smirk. "You assume that I want to make love to you?"

She blinked up at him, clearly surprised by his words. "What if I told you that I want you to give me the prize? As a gift to your Bride? You offered once."

"We're past that. I'm not a gentleman anymore. I'm not even a human. And you're no lady."

When he pressed down on her shoulders, there was no mistaking what he desired. She stiffened, but he said, "Oh, no, you want your prize, then you'll do as I wish."

She went to her knees before him. "Couldn't get a nymph to do this?"

"Why would I settle for a nymph when I have a Valkyrie at my bidding?"

"And this is what you want?" she asked, gazing up at him.

"Yes," he rasped, one hand on her head, the other clutching her nape. He wanted her before him like this, to be forced to look up at him and acknowledge that he was in control. He could master her if he chose. He wanted her to taste him, to show him this pleasure.

No, not like this.

Where did that thought come from? When he was so goddamned close to finally knowing what this was like?

He ground his teeth, not even able to imagine what her mouth closing over his shaft would feel like. But doubt nagged him. Lust warred with an indistinct warning deep inside him.

The way she turned to me tonight... 

He choked out, "Stop." He clutched her shoulders. "Get off your knees. I don't want you to do this." He yanked her to her feet, then strode away. "This would make you a whore. I can't do that."

"How is it different from the basilisk's egg?" she asked, her tone rising with anger.

"Then I sought only to touch you."

Her eyes flashed silver. "Why do you even care if this would brand me a whore?"

"Do you know what this is like? I know you care nothing for me, but I feel as if we're wed. For you to have gone to another man... and let him touch you... " He ran his hand over his face, his arousal waning quickly. "Forget it." He tossed the box onto the bed and turned away. "You can have it."




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