Click on image to enlarge.
by Suzanne Rock
Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Fantasy
Description: Long ago Javier chose to walk away from the one person who mattered in his life. Now that he is free once again to roam the Earth, he becomes obsessed with making up for past mistakes. His mission is to gain Catherine's vote for the vampires on the Immortal Council, but when he sees her he realizes he wants much more. He wants her heart. When she disappears from the Council's halls, he tracks her down, determined to make her remember the past -- and the love they once shared. Catherine can't let her passion for Javier rekindle -- no matter what the cost. Much has changed since he abandoned her so long ago. With the Immortal Council fragmented and her werewolf king abducted, Catherine has little patience for Javier's empty promises. Still, he is persistent, and she sees the value in having an ancient vampire for an ally. They strike a deal: she will submit to his every carnal desire if he will help find her king. Unfortunately, things don't go as planned, and their erotic interludes ignite the passionate anger of Catherine's only fey ally. Now, all three of their lives are in jeopardy. To survive, Javier must build an intimate bond with the only woman who has ever rejected his love, and a man who'd like nothing more than to see him dead.
eBook Publisher: Red Sage Publishing/Red Sage Presents, 2011 2011
eBookwise Release Date: February 2012
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [281 KB]
Reading time: 181-254 min.
Somewhere along the Darb el-Arba'in trade route, Egypt
"Please sit, Mr. Baros." The fey king leaned back on his stack of pillows and gestured to the seat across from him.
Javier hesitated for a moment before answering. The fake name still sounded odd to his ears. It was an old name, one left over from a time when immortal politics ruled his life, and a little werewolf ruled his heart. "Please, call me Andres."
"Andres, then." The fey lifted his bony hand and motioned again to the mound of colorful pillows across from him. "Be my guest."
Javier did his best not to scowl as he bent low at the waist, performing one of the many traditional bows reserved for fey royalty. "With all due respect your highness, I don't have a lot of time. If you could just tell me if a petite, blonde woman passed through these parts--."
"Many women pass through these parts, my friend." The fey adjusted his robe over his pale skin and shrugged. "Blonde or brunette, I wouldn't know. Everyone here covers their heads, or else they'd burn to death in this heat." He gestured outside the entrance of the tent, where the desert sun continued to descend into the horizon.
Javier straightened and did his best not to stare at the fey's disheveled hair and smug smile. This guy surely didn't look like a leader of an immortal clan. He looked more like a college student who'd just rolled out of bed. His voice sounded soft and musical, almost pre-pubescent. Even his blue eyes sparkled with laughter, as if he were playing some sort of practical joke.
Javier did his best to push back his irritation. "You would remember this woman if you saw her, your highness."
"Would I?" The fey lowered his hand and rubbed his scruffy, blond beard. "Describe her to me, and I'll tell you if I remember anything."
"Well." How did one describe Catherine? She was much more beautiful than the pictures of naked women that decorated this tent, more innocent, too. "She has bright blue eyes like the Mediterranean sea and skin that would remind you of the purest ivory." Javier knew his skin held the same pale hue, but where his body temperature remained cool, Catherine's burned hotter than a summer heat wave. He longed to touch that fire, to feel her warmth once more.
The fey's angular features hardened and his voice lowered. "Continue."
"She has long, wavy hair and well-rounded hips." And a totally fuckable ass. Javier's whole body tightened at the thought of his ex-lover's backside. It had been so long since he'd last seen his blond beauty. What he wouldn't give to slip up behind her and sink his thick cock deep into her tight, wet channel. . . .
The fey frowned as if in thought. "What did you say her name was?"
"Catherine." Javier cleared his throat and tried to push the erotic images from his mind. "Her name is Catherine." Was this king even listening to him? Or was this some sort of game? Javier had heard of how the fey king liked to play mind games. He'd have to be careful.
"You said she was your sister?" The fey played with a bit of fringe on his pillow.
Javier cleared his throat again. "Yes." It was another lie, of course, but a necessary one. Council laws outlawed the blending of immortal species. If anyone ever found out about their relationship, they'd be made outcasts--or worse, they'd be put to death.
After a moment, the king shook his head. The melodic notes of his earlier voice returned. "I don't recognize the name." He leaned forward and shifted his gaze to someone over Javier's shoulder. "Do you?"
Javier dismissed the crimson cushions and paper lanterns and glanced behind him at the two large men in camouflage by the entrance. The guards straightened, their jaws tense. The one on the left jerked his head slightly in denial.
"You see? No blond woman." The king rested back on his pillows once more and ran his hand over the gold silk sheet suspended behind him for privacy. "Behind this curtain we have many dark haired beauties, however."
Javier frowned. The guards appeared tense. Why? This king seemed a little eccentric in his tastes, but he was only a harmless young fey. Javier filed their nervousness away to ponder later and returned his attention to the king. "You would recognize her if you saw her. She's smart and has a strong will. And her body. . . ." What could he say without sounding smitten? "She is physically fit."
"Like a runner?"
Like a werewolf. "She has been known to outsmart even the most ancient immortal." Much to my dismay.
"Ah, an intellect, then."
"Yes, and she might have been just passing through--."
The fey waved his arm in the air. Little flecks of light danced across his arm from the ornate paper lanterns that hung around them. "Mr. Baros, we are in the desert. No one 'just passes though.'"
The desert. Why the hell had Catherine gone to the desert? The question had plagued Javier for days. He couldn't make sense of it. Why wasn't she back in Barcelona with the rest of the Immortal Council? Why would she forsake her werewolf pack, go into hiding, and travel with a fey king into witch and warlock territory? More importantly, how did she hide her raw animal power? Like vampires, feys could sense magic in its purest form. Surely this king would have spotted her by now?
Then again, maybe not. Javier could only sense a whisper of her presence here, and that was because he knew her scent. Her magick easily blended in with the fey magicks in the camp.
"More light." The king clapped his hands, scattering Javier's thoughts. Two female servants appeared from the shadows of the tent, similar in build and shape. Both were covered head to toe in blue and purple veils. Small gold coins hung from the edges of the rich material and jingled as they walked over to light two large lamps made of different colored glass, one on either side of the fey king. Javier stared, intrigued. Every identifiable part of their bodies was covered, including their face and hair. Only their eyes remained exposed and watchful. While one had the darker hue carried by the humans in these parts, the other had paler skin. Her large, round eyes slanted as they rested on Javier. A tingle of familiarity rippled over his body as the women retreated from the colored light and stood in front of their king.
Could it be? No, he would have felt the flow of Catherine's magick. Her aura. He'd have detected the faint spicy aroma of her blood. He glanced at the fey king, who watched him in interest from his throne of blue, purple, and gold.
The king leaned forward and arched his brow. "Beautiful, are they not?"
Was he talking about the servants, or the lamps? Javier couldn't tell, and the king seemed a little too interested in his answer. "Yes, they are."
Both servants knelt low and pressed their foreheads into the ground. Interesting. Javier frowned as they raised their backsides into the air in another sacred bow to the fey, this one reserved for the relationship between slave and owner. The pale one's shapely globes looked so familiar. If he didn't know any better, he'd have sworn it was his beloved, but no, Catherine's scent remained only slightly stronger than it was in Quseir. She might be in this camp, yes, but not in this tent.
"You may choose." The king stood and approached the servants.
"Your majesty, if you could just tell me about the blonde--"
"One woman is as good as another, my friend." The fey slapped the darker servant on her fleshy butt-cheek. She immediately rose and followed him back to the pillows, then took her place behind him. "Come, sit." He motioned again to the second pile of silk pillows as the female servant massaged his shoulders. The fey closed his eyes as she dug her fingers into his muscles.
Frustration and anger burned in Javier's gut. He was tired of these games. He'd come here to gather Catherine and take her back to Barcelona, not humor a puppet king.
"Mr. Baros, you're from the Council, no? I've not received word from Barcelona in ages." The king opened his eyes. They narrowed as he locked his gaze on Javier. "Surely there must be news."
Javier tore his gaze away from the pale servant, steepled his fingers, and feigned innocence. "I wouldn't know, your majesty. I was only in Barcelona a few short days to deliver a message. I know nothing of Council politics." I used to though, before I became an outcast.
"Pity." The fey closed his eyes and smiled as the darker servant inched her plump fingers down the edges of his loosely-fitting robe, tugging the gold trim open and revealing the fine dusting of blond hair across his chest. Her dark olive skin was a sharp contrast to the king's pale body. It reminded Javier of the last time he had touched Catherine's pale chest, how fair it appeared, even next to his own vampire skin. The air felt heavy and thick, and Javier's cock hardened as heat slipped down his torso and tightened the muscles in his lower abdomen.
"I used to be a senator, you know. Immortal politics was my life." The fey leaned farther back on the pillows, allowing the servant better access. She took advantage, running her palms over the smooth planes of his chest. Little bits of colored light played over her skin, casting the king and his servant in shimmering flecks of blue, purple and gold.
Politics were my specialty, as well. Javier spread his hands out to his sides. "I am but a human, and have no real understanding of these matters." He found his gaze drawn back to the pale servant, still bowed low to the floor.
The fey didn't seem to hear him. "I was the best at what I did, but my king thought to cast me aside. He didn't approve of my methods." The king's eyes shone bright as some unseen memory danced through his mind. "We could have been powerful. All of the other Immortal Clans were ours for the taking." The glow faded as he refocused on Javier. "There is still a chance for us to become all-powerful. Now that King Atrian has been removed and a leader with vision has taken his place, anything is possible." His lips twitched beneath his short, trimmed beard as the servant began to lick and nip his bony neck. "Mark my words, Andres. You'll soon see the fey rise up and become the strongest Immortal Clan the realm has ever seen and it will all be because of me." He closed his eyes and sighed as the servant pushed his robe aside and toyed with his nipples. "Please, sit. You have no idea what you're missing."
Frustration broke through Javier's mental control as he dragged his gaze away from the servant and focused on the fey. "If I could just question your staff. Perhaps starting with--" He motioned to the pale-skinned servant.
The fey's eyes shot open. "Question?"
Anger pounded through Javier's body, and he struggled to keep it in check. "About my sister--"
"Ah yes, the blonde girl." The king motioned to the other pale servant, still bent on the ground with her ass sticking up in the air. "Please, sit and let my servant attend to you while we discuss your sister."
Javier saw the woman's back shiver at the king's request, although whether it was from fear or excitement, he didn't know. "That is generous of your highness, but I must refrain. I fear my sister might be in trouble, and I must do what I can to find her quickly."
The fey sighed. "Very well, Mr. Baros. We shall strike a bargain." He whispered to the servant behind him, then waved his hand in the air in dismissal. The pale servant rose and joined her darker friend. As the woman withdrew, the pale woman's eyes hardened as she shot Javier a menacing look. The faintest hint of jasmine drifted through the air.
Why didn't he detect her aura? Smell her blood? It didn't matter. It was time to collect his beloved and go home. Javier turned to follow, but made it only two steps before the fey king spoke.
"You know, I've been rather lonely since my last council representative met an. . . unfortunate circumstance. I could use someone to look out for my interests with the other clans. I would pay you well."
Javier stopped and turned to face the king. Every fiber in his body screamed for him to follow his beloved, but he held himself in check. He had to deal with this fey first. He started to gather his magick, but could summon no more than a thin thread of his power. Javier hardened his jaw. He was too emotional, and it had been too long since he fed. Even so, he couldn't risk his little wolf running away from him again. For now, he'd have to talk his way out of this tent.
He gathered in his anger and bowed once more, pretending respect. "Your highness, I believe one of your own kind must represent you on the council. Alas, I am not a fey."
"No, I suppose you aren't."
Javier straightened and shifted his stance, uncomfortable under the king's stare. There was a knowing look in his eyes that suggested there was more to this fey than appeared on the surface. In Javier's opinion, the sooner he found Catherine and got them both back to Barcelona, the better.
"A game of chess." The fey smiled as the dark skinned servant re-entered the tent and set a board on the ground in front of him. She kept her head down as she bent at the waist and backed away into the shadows.
Although werewolves couldn't teleport, they were fast on the ground in wolf form. Javier guessed he had only a few more minutes before his little wolf made a run for it. Part of Javier wanted to ignore the fey and enter the space of the ancient immortals, the place in between seconds where time stood still. There, he could follow Catherine and make sure she stayed put until he could fetch her. To do so would use up too much energy, however. He had run out of his bottled blood when he had reached the Egyptian shore, and had grown weaker each night since then. Since he couldn't feed here without raising suspicion, he'd need something of Catherine's to help focus his power. Without it, he was forced to rely on fast talk and brute force.
He returned his attention to the king. "With all due respect, your highness, I--"
"For every piece captured, a question answered."
"I don't know anything of value to you or your clan." Javier needed no more information. Catherine was here and he was going to bring her home. As soon as he got her safe, the whole fey camp could rot, as far as he was concerned.
The king smirked. "I wouldn't be so hasty, my friend."
A servant entered, carrying a small, wooden chest. Catherine. The clinging silk caressed her curves as she walked, leaving very little to the imagination. Javier flexed his fingers as she bent low to the ground, giving him a perfect view of her smooth, rounded backside. His cock hardened in response.
"Come, sit and play with an old man." The king motioned once again to the pillows.
Old man, my ass. Try living for four centuries in seclusion, then talk to me about old. "Your majesty, I must ask that you question your staff. Time is of the essence. Perhaps if I start with this one." He motioned to Catherine.
His beloved straightened and flashed him a look of death.
"This one?" The fey king considered Catherine. "Kneel before me, my child."
Catherine stiffened, then turned slowly and knelt before the fey. Feroas grasped her chin and lifted her head with his skinny fingers. His touch seemed unnaturally strong and rough for someone so frail.
Javier stepped forward. "Your highness--"
The fey king raised his other hand, his gaze never leaving Catherine. "Please, we're all friends here. Call me Feroas." He turned her head first one way, then the other. "Interesting," he muttered and dropped his hand. "You may tend to our guest as we play." He raised his brow at Javier. "Shall we?"
Javier glanced at Catherine's veiled face. Her eyes were hard, unreadable. Why couldn't he sense her like he used to? Maybe he was too weak. It was a blasted nuisance having to rely on mere human abilities. He frowned as he took his place on the pillows, beneath the flecks of colored light. Catherine knelt beside him and opened the box.
"Excellent." Feroas leaned back on his pillows, calling forth the dark-haired servant.
Catherine pulled the small chess pieces from their holders. Jasmine filled his nose, bringing with it the sweetness of her blood. His vampire senses went into overdrive. Blood surged through his veins and his cock thickened. Her aroma both excited and angered him. He wanted to spank that gorgeous bottom of hers for running away. Then he wanted to fuck her hard until they were both too exhausted to move.
Javier glanced at Feroas. The fey king watched him with interest, a small smile playing on his lips. He was up to something, but what? Did he know that this servant was the woman Javier sought?
The next time Catherine reached for a piece, he grabbed her wrist. Her gasp echoed throughout the tent and penetrated every cell in his body. He could hear her pulse quicken, her breath catch. A small vein pulsed at the base of her neck, offering him a taste of her warm, life-giving blood. It called to him, and he felt his teeth throb. His mouth became dry as an old, primal hunger took over. It took every ounce of control he had to keep his fangs in check.
Javier shifted his grip to run his thumb along the inside of her wrist. Her smooth ivory skin felt like heaven under the pads of his fingers. His cock pushed hard against the zipper in his pants. The pain reminded him of the loneliness and longing he felt each night they were apart.
Javier reached out with his free hand and tucked a stray blond lock of hair back underneath her veil. In doing so, a single strand caught around his fingers. He tugged it free. Ah, just what he needed. "Thank you, my dear."
"Go away," she whispered. "You'll ruin everything."
"Is something amiss?" Feroas asked.
"No, of course not." Javier let go of Catherine's wrist.
Feroas smiled. "You see? If you play chess with me, your time will not be wasted."
Javier tightened his fingers around the strand of hair as Catherine continued to place pieces on the chess board. Enough nonsense. Catherine belonged to him, and he wasn't going to bargain for what was rightfully his. He dragged his gaze back to the fey. "My time is never wasted."
Catherine bowed to Feroas. "I am finished, your highness. May I--"
"Don't leave just yet, my dear." Feroas looked first at Catherine, then Javier. "If you win, I'll let you spend the night with of any of my servants. This one, perhaps." He shrugged. "I can't even begin to assess her worth, as she is shy and untouched. A true virgin and a rare gift to any immortal."
Javier bit back a snort and crossed his arms over his chest. A virgin? Hardly. What was Catherine up to?
Feroas stood and placed his hand possessively on Catherine's ass. "She, like everything in this camp, is mine, you see. But I might be willing to make an exception." He swung his free hand toward the chess board in front of him. "If you can beat me."
Tension prickled over Javier's skin. He didn't like the way the fey was touching her. His little wolf hadn't moved since Feroas started speaking. Surely, Catherine was not afraid of a foolish fey? If he mistook her for a virgin, at least nothing sexual was between them--yet. So what was their relationship, exactly? What did she mean that Javier would ruin everything?
Javier kept his gaze fixed on his ex-lover as he spoke. "Deal." He reached for his pawn.
"Wait." Feroas lifted his hand from Catherine and raised his finger in the air.
Javier raised his brow. "I told you we have a deal."
"We've agreed on what you will gain should you win, but what about me?"
Something cold whispered across the back of Javier's neck. He gathered his own magick to shield himself, but the strange presence disappeared before he could focus his power. How odd. "What do you want?"
"You are dismissed for now, my dear." The fey slapped Catherine's ass. "Stay close by, however. I will call upon you shortly."
Javier barely held his magick in check as she straightened and disappeared into the shadows. Once Catherine was safe, he was going to make the king pay for that.
Oblivious, the fey king repositioned himself on the stack of pillows. "If I win, you will stay on here, in my camp, as my personal slave."
Javier blinked. A slave? Feroas must be joking. But it didn't matter what he promised the king. Feroas was a young fey and Javier was an ancient vampire. There was no magickal spell that the king could come up with that he couldn't handle after he fed.
"Good." Feroas visibly relaxed. "It's your move."
Indeed. Chess was a dangerous game. A player always had to think not one, but two moves ahead, and be ready to play out all of the possibilities.
Javier moved a pawn, then watched as Feroas did the same. In his assessment, his opponent was dim-witted, too drunk with power to think rationally. He gave the fey two, perhaps three months before he was overthrown. That was, if Javier didn't kill him first. If Feroas had harmed Catherine in any way. . . .
No, killing a deranged king wasn't the answer. At least, not yet. All Javier needed was a little patience and everything would turn out just the way he wanted. Luckily for him, patience was one of his stronger traits. He hadn't lived in seclusion for two centuries without learning how to wait for what he wanted and right now he wanted Catherine.
Beneath his robe, Javier rolled the long, blond hair from Catherine's head between his fingers. Now that he had part of her against his skin, he could better direct his magick. She wasn't going to run away from him this time. The sooner his little wolf accepted that they were meant to be together, the better off everyone would be.
* * * *
He's here. Catherine slipped into the servants' tent between the parked caravan of trucks and paused to catch her breath. She was alone. Finally.
Javier had found her. She had no idea how he had managed to track her this far south, but he had, and now her whole plan was in jeopardy.
She wiped away a tear of frustration. Javier had abandoned her almost two centuries ago. Now he waltzed back into her life, expecting to pick up right where they had left off. He should have known that things had changed. Life wasn't the same as when they were both young senators in Barcelona. It was more complicated now and more dangerous.
Of course, Javier wouldn't see it that way. Within hours, he'd probably sweep into this tent with his usual bravado and demand to know why she'd run away. She didn't want to answer that question, or any of the others that swam in that thick skull of his. What would she tell him? That she'd left him because she had finally grown up? That after a century of hoping and praying for his return she had given up and moved on with her life?
She wouldn't give that pompous windbag the time of day if he was the last male in the Immortal Realm. It didn't matter how gorgeous he was, or what wicked things he could do with those fangs. He couldn't just sweep into her life and expect to control it. No one could.
Now his presence here put both of their lives in danger. If Feroas had any idea that a vampire and a werewolf were in his camp, he'd have them both killed. He could do it, too. She had no doubt about that. Few knew about Feroas' ability to manipulate magick and emotions, bending them to his will. She knew, however. That was why she had to get Javier out of here, fast.
She moistened her lips as his image flashed once again through her mind's eye. Javier's appearance hadn't changed much since she had last seen him. His white robe couldn't mask his broad, muscular shoulders or his gorgeous backside. He still liked to arch that noble brow at her, and give orders with those firm, commanding lips. It couldn't hide his earthy scent or cover the power and confidence that radiated from his body. His presence was a heady aphrodisiac for a wolf. Her natural instinct was to submit to such an alpha male. And those black, fathomless, eyes. It was as if he could caress her soul with a glance--just as he often had when they were a couple.
She shook her head in frustration. He was vampire, forbidden in every way. They were lowly, obtuse creatures that put their own needs before anyone else's. At one time she'd thought Javier was different. He had proved her wrong, though. She had to remember her ex-lover's true loyalties. They weren't with her that was for sure. If they were, he never would have left her all of those years ago to face the bigoted Immortal Council alone. At the end of the day, all vampires were scum of the Earth. She was better off without them.
Only, how did she tell him that and not piss him off? An angry vampire--especially one with Javier's talents--could ruin everything. The best course of action was to gently put him in his place and then disappear, just like he did to her all of those years ago.
A sudden breeze brushed through the opening in the tent. It drifted through her silk robes and brushed over her skin. Cold speared her core despite the hot desert sun. He was looking for her. Strong vampires like Javier could walk in between seconds, in the space of ancient immortals. As a werewolf, she could do the same, but she lacked his speed and skill. Her movements were like a toddler learning to walk. His were the smooth, fluid movements of a master.
She had to protect herself from his touch. One way would be to put distance between them. She couldn't run out of the reach of his magick, as she did in Barcelona. Unlike Javier, she had more to think about than just herself.
Catherine grabbed the little metal box on the table and lifted the lid. A small red jewel on a leather strap sat on a mound of black silk. The bloodstone's pulsing glow told her danger was near. She'd had two of them made a long time ago. One for her, and one for the human senator who had helped her pass sanctions against the vampires. Javier had insisted. He knew better than anyone what his kind was capable of doing, so he showed her how to forge the stones from an ancient magick. They warned when a vampire was near, or if a vampire's thoughts were focused on her. The stone didn't give her a lot of warning, but it was enough so that she could protect her body from the deadly fangs. Over the years she had improved upon her stone until it could protect her from the simpler vampire magicks, like glamour. Unlike others on the Council, she'd never believed all the vampires were dead. She knew better.
Unfortunately, all the shielding spells in the world wouldn't protect her heart. Javier was obtuse, yes, but he was also charming, and he knew her well. He could use that knowledge to bring her to her knees--if she let him.
Catherine ran her fingers over the bloodstone, its pulsing heat warm against her hand. It sensed Javier. He was looking for her, the fool. She had taken off the stone when she entered Feroas' camp, not willing to draw attention to herself. She'd had no idea that Javier would follow her this far south.
She closed the lid to the box and set it back on the table. Courage. While the bloodstone was powerful enough to avoid his physical touch and his glamour, it would do nothing against his stronger powers. What was she going to do?
She couldn't protect herself with a magickal shield or risk exposing both their identities to the king. Months of planning would be washed down the drain because a pig-headed vampire wouldn't take no for an answer.
She turned her head and eyed the garlic on the table, left over from the evening meal. It was a long shot, but she had no other choice. He was hunting her, she could feel it. With a shaking hand, she reached out for a large, round bulb.
The word ran through her like water, stilling both her arm and her mind. She was so close to the garlic. Just a few more inches... she tried to reach, but her arm wouldn't move. She turned her gaze to the metal box. The bloodstone shone so bright that its glow shone through the cracks in the lid.
If she wanted to control her body once more, there was no choice left but to use her werewolf power. While the magick of vampires and feys was more predatory, werewolf magick was more protective. She tried to pull her thoughts together to weave a basic spell, but the command to relax was too great. She dropped her arm and sagged against the tent pole as molten fire slipped up through her core, bringing with it a surge of desire. Her pussy clenched and her nipples pebbled in anticipation.
"Javier." She arched her back against the pole as warm, silken ribbons embraced her and turned her muscles to liquid. She felt her body slip into the space between seconds, the place of the ancient immortals. Time eased to a standstill and she was helpless to stop it. "You found me."
I'll always find you, querida.
"You're a fool. Feroas. . . " She hissed in a breath as unseen hands ripped her robe open. Pleasure washed over her skin and invisible palms cupped her breasts. Her nipples responded to the familiar touch, and desire dampened her thighs. She closed her eyes and struggled to form a coherent thought. "We'll be discovered."
Incompetent fey kings and cheap rocks can't keep me away from you, Catherine. You belong to me. Now and always.
"But in Barcelona --"
"The charm worked because you caught me off guard. It won't happen again."
It was true, she knew it. The air around her stilled as time slowed to a standstill. Catherine's jaw clenched as she fought her ex-lover's magick. Javier's powers were just too strong, especially now that he had her hair. She'd have to give in for now and wait for an opportunity to escape.
Submit to me, and I'll make your darkest fantasies come true.
Raw, sexual energy bathed her body and blanketed her mind. Helpless, she stopped fighting and succumbed to the erotic sensations.