For 496 years, the planet of Evalon had been known for pleasure and indulgence.

Ever since Mira, the first Empress of Evalon, had set up her Court, filled it with all the most decadent pleasures in the galaxy, and begun a decade-long search for a consort, the planet’s culture and reputation had been established, never to be altered. Even when the tyrannical Coalition started to take over the known universe, swallowing up soft, peaceful Evalon with one half-hearted strike, the planet’s character didn’t change. The ruler might now be called the Lady Governor rather than Empress, but tradition has always died hard, and the nature of the people and their planet never changed.

At least, not in any obvious way.

Evalon was still a prime vacation spot for all the surrounding galaxies, and the Court was still as rich and decadent as it had ever been. No royal acts or declarations had been issued from the throne in a hundred years, but Lady Patrice, the current Governor, still dictated the behavior and attitudes of her people.

For everyone except her sister, Kyla.

Kyla hated Court, almost as much as she hated the Coalition.

Because of her status as member of the royal family, she wasn’t allowed to leave the palace grounds without an escort, but she got away from her royal duties as often as possible. This meant either taking to her bed or taking a walk.

This afternoon, she’d decided to take a walk, mostly to test out her new boots, which she’d just finished making this morning.

The palace grounds consisted of several hundred square miles, and much of the property was uncultivated woods. Today, she hiked through the woods on trails she’d found as a child, all the way to one side of the wall that surrounded the palace grounds.

It was there that she encountered the stranger.

He was big and unshaven, and he reeked of generic, replicated whiskey. She could smell it on him from several feet away. He was apparently on a ramble around the grounds, his walk enlivened by the liquor flask he carried.

He made an unpleasant growling sound when he saw her.

Her heartbeat immediately quickening, she gave him a distant smile and turned away, walking in the opposite directly as quickly as she could, without looking like she was running.

Kyla didn’t have a problem with men, although she had no interest in sex or typical Evalonian entertainments. But she’d found drunk men often forgot the rules, and a few of those forgot basic human decency. Giving them a wide berth had always worked well for her.

Unfortunately, this particular man was a nastier sort of drunk who didn’t appreciate being ignored. He followed her, even when she stepped back into the woods.

“Where…you going, pretty lil’ thing?” he drawled, the unpleasant smell of him intensifying as he got closer.

Okay. Avoiding wasn’t working. Maybe an ice-cold smackdown was what he needed. That strategy usually worked, when avoidance wasn’t an option.

She straightened her spine and turned around to glare at him coolly. “If you’d like company, you could try the public rooms in the palace, or there is an excellent wine bar in the village. I, however, would rather be alone.”

His eyes narrowed, and he stepped even closer, forcing her to back away from him. “You’re a stuck-up little bitch, aren’t you?” He took another gulp from his flask before adding, “That’s okay. I can show you what a real man feels like.”

Just great. He was drunk and an asshole and an archaic cliché. Male tourists or visitors occasionally acted like this on Evalon. Evidently, the overt sexuality and fantasy-fulfillment made them believe they could take anything they wanted. It was one of the reasons security was so abundant in the palace and grounds, and it was why no one but the guards and palace officials could carry weapons.

There was no one else around at the moment, so Kyla said very calmly, the way she would speak to a spooked animal. “I’m sure there are plenty of other women who want to see what a man you are. It’s not my thing, though. Try the public rooms. Just remember that, on Evalon, the women get to choose. We have a Lady Governor, remember?”

Despite the female governor and the policy of women choosing their sexual partners, women weren’t actually in control on Evalon any more than men were control of other planets in Coalition space. No one was in control except the Coalition Council, and at least they were equal opportunity dominators. They took over male- and female-centric planets indiscriminately in the multitude of galaxies populated by humans who had spread out from Earth in the last thousand years. The Coalition would have taken over the planets of other species too, if they’d encountered any other sentient, reasoning lifeforms.

 “I’ve got a lady right here,” the man mumbled, taking another swig before he dropped his flask on the ground. “Now, come ‘ere, little bitch.” He leaned even closer to her.

Kyla had never had any such bad behavior aimed at her before. She wasn’t pretty enough to attract much attention in Court sessions, and she preferred to avoid public areas as much as possible otherwise. Because she was so surprised, she froze momentarily. She stared at the man as he reached out for her.

Once she realized he was going to touch her, she pushed him away with both hands. “I don’t want you to show me anything. Go away!” She spoke very loudly, knowing that intoxicated men were sometimes startled enough by loud confrontation that they stopped whatever they were doing.

This one didn’t stop. He just looked angrier. He grabbed her by her shoulders and pushed her back against a tree. “I like a little fight in my bitches.”

She was so stunned and terrified that her throat closed up. Her back hurt from where he’d slammed her against the tree, and now his face was leaning in toward her, like he would kiss her.

She was not about to get kissed by this man. She might not be able to scream through the knot in her throat, but she could move. She shoved him away again.

She wasn’t strong enough to push him far, but she got enough space between their bodies for her to get her leg up. She kneed him hard in the groin, and then she ran when he doubled over in pain.

She was sweating and chilled at the same time, and she could barely breathe as she broke out of the woods again. The drunk man was actually chasing her. His mind must be so clouded by alcohol and anger that he wasn’t thinking clearly. Security drones circled the perimeter of the wall at regular intervals. Once she was spotted by one of those, the palace guards would come to help her.

She stumbled on a dip in the ground, and the man caught up to her before she righted herself, pulling her onto the ground.

Acting purely on instinct, she rolled over and kicked out at him with both legs, as hard as she could, aiming for his knees.

His legs buckled as he roared in pain, and he fell down to the ground beside her.

She heard a drone whizz by and knew help would be coming soon.

Her mind couldn’t even process what had happened, what was happening even now. But she knew she wasn’t going to let this man touch her.

She didn’t let men she knew and liked touch her. She certainly wasn’t going to let this disgusting, violent stranger.

***

Hall strode quickly through the woods on a trail he’d found the other day. He was on his way to meet Lenna, which meant he needed to get out of the palace grounds without anyone seeing him.

It wasn’t as easy as one would think.

Yesterday, he’d found a way, though, and he was glad to be getting away—even if just for a short time. He was starting to feel claustrophobic in the palace, trapped by perfume and mirrors and lounging bodies. He hadn’t even been able to distract himself with his interest in Kyla, the Lady Governor’s sister, since he’d only seen her a few times at Court, and he’d never encountered her alone.

As much as he hated to give up, he was resigning himself to never getting to know her.

He’d reached the edge of the woods and was starting toward the far corner of the wall, where he’d found a way to get over it unseen, when he heard someone cry out.

It sounded like a woman. Like she was in trouble.

Hall wasn’t a hero. He’d spent most of his life taking care of himself, trying to save up enough money to live comfortably, to gain financial freedom so he wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else. But he wasn’t heartless enough to walk away when someone was calling out for help. He turned around and headed toward the voice.

He kept to the edge of the woods, so he wouldn’t be seen. If the palace officials or guards found out he was trying to get out of the palace, his entire job would be blown. But through the tree branches he saw a man chasing after a woman and pulling her down onto the ground.

Hall jumped forward, rushing to help her.

It was just instinct. If someone was getting raped or assaulted, you helped if you could. At least, he still did—especially after those weeks he’d spent in prison, where he hadn’t been able to do anything while all manner of cruelty happened around him.

He pulled to a stop when the woman kicked the man’s knees out. That was a very good move, bringing down someone much bigger and stronger than she was. This woman fought hard. You never knew how someone would react to being attacked. Freezing was just as natural an instinct as fight or flight—for both men and women—and that instinct had nothing to do with size or strength.

He started moving again, deciding he still better make sure the man was down for good, but then he saw a couple of the uniformed palace guards approaching with their swords drawn.

The woman was obviously safe now, so Hall stepped back into the shelter of the woods, watching as the guards came over and assisted the woman to her feet.

She was dirty but uninjured, while the man was writhing on the ground in pain.

It was only then that Hall realized the woman was Kyla.

He was relieved she was unharmed, and he was very impressed with her ability to defend herself. But he’d missed his chance to rescue her, to be the hero for her, which was really too bad.

It was like fate had determined that he would never get the chance to know her.

He was tempted to linger, to make sure she was all right and find an opportunity to talk to her, but his brain told him not to. He needed to get into the village so he could meet with Lenna, and the guards would be suspicious if he tried to hang around Kyla.

She was off-limits to him, and it looked like she always would be.

He was slightly shaky from the release of adrenalin from his interrupted charge to the rescue, but he shook it off and turned around.

The job was always the most important thing. He couldn’t afford to let anything else become a priority in his life—not if he was ever going to reach a point where he finally felt free.

***

When the palace guards helped her to her feet, Kyla was trembling so hard she could barely stand.

She recognized both guards, and she knew one of them by name.

Harley scanned her in concern. “Are you all right, Lady Kyla?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat when her voice broke, and she wrapped her arms around her belly. “But this man needs to be escorted off-world. He obviously can’t follow the rules.”

The guards clearly understood what had happened, and they didn’t hesitate to haul the drunken man up, despite his loud protests, and put him in metal cuffs.

“Do you need help getting back to your room, Lady Kyla?” Harley asked. He was short, stocky, and normally quiet. His eyes were always kind.

“No, thank you. I’m a little shaky, so I think I’ll just walk it off.”

She mostly wanted to be alone. Adrenalin was still coursing through her, and her panic had halted so quickly that she couldn’t physically process it.

Her stomach churned queasily, and she felt a dull throbbing begin behind her right eye.

She needed to calm down quickly or she would get a migraine. She got them often, and they always knocked her out.

When the guards had disappeared with the grumbling would-be rapist, Kyla tried to take deep breaths and pull herself together. She needed to be where she felt safe, and there were only two places in the world where she felt that way. One was in her room. That was too far away, though, so she headed to the other one.

She reached the tree in just a minute, and she started to climb it. She had to move slowly, since she was still trembling from her earlier encounter.

For thirteen years, ever since she’d found this tree at ten years old, she’d sat on a big, flat branch shaped like a seat and looked out over the wall, watching the world go by beneath her.

It was a beautiful day, with warm air, vivid blue sky, and both moons full and visible, hovering just beneath the sun. All of the days here were mostly the same, since they were created by the sophisticated habitation generator, and Kyla was barely conscious of the beauty of her surroundings.

She could still smell that man’s breath. She kept imagining what would have happened if she hadn’t gotten away from him. In an attempt to feel better, she reached for the binoculars she kept hidden in a little hole in the tree.

The gardens of Evalon used to extend all the way around the village and much farther, but they’d been forced to reduce the size of habitable land on the planet a hundred years ago in compliance with Coalition policies about the limits of personal property. Now, the lush and lovely landscape—the white turrets of the palace buildings, fragrant orchards, and vast stretches of lavender fields—was much smaller than it used to be.

Kyla didn’t focus her binoculars on the palace or grounds, though. She focused them on the only road from the palace.

Since it was still early, a lot of the townspeople were still on their way to work in the specialty shops that filled the village. Since motorized vehicles weren’t allowed in the village or palace grounds, except on official business, tourists and locals either walked or were carried in hired litters. The village scene was as it usually was, except for the two guards who were walking that terrible man to the public launch port and docking station on the outskirts of town.

Kyla kept watching them until they were out of sight, blocked by other buildings. She took comfort in the fact that the man would never be allowed to come back to Evalon.

Out of habit, she refocused her lenses on the terrace of an outdoor café that was built high so it would overlook the palace grounds. It was popular with tourists who couldn’t afford to rent rooms in the palace, and she often saw interesting people there. As she scanned over a few families and couples, she wondered what it would be like to eat at the café, to wander the village, to vacation to another planet.

To do anything on her own, without the palace guards as escort.

She never had, and she probably never would. Her life had been dictated by her birthright, just as surely as her sister’s had.

Patrice was born to be the Lady Governor, the head of a decadent Court, the arbiter of taste and culture. She was born to launch a far-ranging search for a consort, something she’d begun more than five years ago now.

Kyla, on the other hand, was born to wilt away in the shadows of the palace, as the backup in case Patrice died before giving birth to a daughter, unable to do anything for herself until Patrice gave birth to an heir.

Kyla glanced over the other tables in the café, deciding to put the binoculars down and head back. She still felt a familiar faint throbbing behind her right eye that warned her a migraine might be coming on. The only way to dull the pain was with an injection she kept in her room. She needed to get back before the migraine came on strong. She was feeling more like herself now anyway, the adrenalin from before starting to dissipate. She gave the café one last sweep, deciding she was steady enough to walk back now, when she recognized a familiar face at the corner table.

He was one of the current Potentials.

There were always twenty or thirty Potentials in Court at any time, and they blended together in Kyla’s mind in a blur of broad shoulders, handsome faces, and fine clothes. The only reason Kyla recognized this man was because he’d been almost chosen as Patrice’s partner for the last two weeks.

He shouldn’t be at the café. Potentials weren’t allowed to leave the palace grounds or be in the company of a woman once they’d declared themselves—not until Patrice had rejected them.

This dark-haired man shouldn’t be here. It was against the law. Kyla straightened up and focused on his face, unconsciously appreciating the well-chiseled features and charismatic smile. He was incredibly good-looking and had an air of almost unnatural confidence, as if there had never been anything he couldn’t claim. He had smiled and flipped his hands in showy resignation when he hadn’t been chosen last week.

Patrice had been stupid to choose the blond man for her weekly partner instead of this one. The overblown physique and bland handsomeness of the blond wasn’t nearly as compelling as this man.

But what the hell was he doing outside the palace walls?

As Kyla watched, a blond woman approached the table at which he sat. She smiled as she joined him, and they began to speak. The woman was very pretty in a no-nonsense way—in her plain trousers, boots, and jacket—but their conversation didn’t look romantic or even personal. It looked like business.

This man was up to trouble. Something was wrong. He should not be having a business conversation with an unknown woman when he was a Potential in the Court of Evalon.

Kyla searched his face but couldn’t read anything except interest and faint amusement. There must be more going on in his head that she just couldn’t see. She’d spent her life in the shadows, while her sister had gotten all the attention. Kyla knew how to read people. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t read this man.

The conversation only lasted three or four minutes, and then the man got up to leave. It was very strange. Maybe they’d just met up to trade information.

But what kind of information?

Instead of heading toward the closest palace gates, the man started toward the wall. Kyla immediately knew where he was going.

He wasn’t supposed to be outside the walls at all, and there was only one way to get back in without confronting the well-trained guards.

Kyla had found it as a kid and had snuck outside the wall a few times until her punishments after being caught had become painful enough to keep her inside. She had no idea how this man had found it so quickly.

The woods grew right up to the wall in one corner, and vines had grown up all over the stones. In the shade from the trees, one could time it right between the sweeps of the security drones and use the vines to climb up and over the wall.

She headed to the spot and sat down on a bench nearby. She had no idea why she was doing this, except she’d felt helpless when that man had attacked her earlier and now she wanted to do something to make herself feel stronger. She wanted to confront something—or someone.

She only had to wait five minutes before the good-looking, dark-haired man climbed over the wall with a strength and agility that was very impressive.

When he saw her on the bench, she caught a brief flash of surprise that he quickly hid.

This man was definitely a cool customer.

“Good morning,” he said with a broad smile that probably left most women breathless. Up close, she could see that he had remarkably vivid green eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked, standing up and stepping toward him.

“Exploring.”

“You’re a Potential. You’re not allowed to explore.”

He sighed and gave her another smile, this one adorably sheepish. “Are you going to tell your sister?”

She was surprised he knew who she was. Most people didn’t even notice her. “I don’t know,” she admitted, telling him the truth.

His smile warmed. “I’ll convince you as we walk back to the palace.”

The throbbing behind her eye had intensified in the last few minutes as she’d been distracted by this man’s behavior. But she felt it now again, so strongly she covered her eye with her hand, trying to will the migraine back until she returned to her room.

“What’s wrong?” the man asked, his expression changing.

“Nothing.” She lowered her hand.

He didn’t look convinced. “Did something happen?”

It was like he knew what had happened to her earlier—or almost happened to her—but there was no way that was possible. “Of course not.”

“Let’s head back to the palace.”

“I didn’t invite you to walk with me.”

“Then I’ll walk behind you. We’re heading in the same direction, after all.”

She felt a tug of attraction and appreciation, despite her best efforts to hold this man at a suspicious distance. He must be used to charming the pants off any woman he encountered, but she wasn’t going to be one of those women.

She frowned at him and turned around, starting back to the shortest trail that led to the palace. As promised, he walked behind her, but she was intensely aware of his presence.

It felt like his eyes were running up and down her body.

She was wearing her normal outfit—a long tunic, riding trousers, and the new boots she’d just completed—but she suddenly wished she was dressed more attractively. It was such an unusual feeling for her that she decided her close encounter earlier had completely rattled her.

“I wondered if you could talk,” the man said, after a minute of silence.

She tensed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been here two weeks, and I’ve only seen you at Court three times. You’ve never said a word any of those times.”

She felt a shiver of self-consciousness at the knowledge that he’d noticed her so acutely. She covered her right eye with her palm again as she walked. The migraine was coming on quickly. It was going to be full-blown before she reached the palace. She’d been a fool not to head back as soon as she’d noticed the first sign. “How do you know I haven’t said a word?”

“Because I’ve watched you.”

“Not the whole time.”

“No, but enough to notice if you’d spoken to anyone. You haven’t. I found it very strange.”

She was getting tired of his voice coming from behind her, so she paused until he fell in stride with her. “It’s not strange. Court is about Lady Patrice. It’s not about me.”

“Maybe. But other women seem to have a good time. Why not you?”

“It’s not my thing.”

“Pleasure isn’t your thing?”

“Court is not what I enjoy. All that sex and over-indulgence.”

“Sex isn’t you thing?”

She felt her cheeks warming, for no good reason. She wasn’t remotely embarrassed to talk about sex. It had been part of her world and culture since she was twelve years old and she’d first made her presence at Court. She had no idea why she’d be blushing at this man’s blunt question. “No,” she told him, feeling another shiver of fear as she felt the migraine intensifying. “It’s all…empty.”

“So you stopped having sex entirely?”

She frowned. “I never started. The whole thing makes me…sick. It’s my sister’s thing. Not mine.”

The man started to say something in reply, but he broke off when Kyla stopped abruptly, pressing into her eye with the heel of her hand. “Do you have a headache or something?” he asked in a different tone.

She swallowed hard. “Migraine.”

“You have medicine for it?”

“A shot in my room. It’s the only thing that works. I’ve gotten these for years.”

She felt the blood run out of her face as a wave of dizziness overcame her. It was very bad now, and she still had more than a mile to walk. It was brutally unjust of the universe to have her almost assaulted and then get a migraine in the same day.

The man stood quietly beside her as she took a few deep breathes. When she was able to lower her hand, he asked softly, “Are you okay?”

She managed to nod. “I just need to get back.”

“Okay.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, until Kyla started to stumble as her eyes blurred over in pain. Pretty soon, she was going to start vomiting. She always did when the migraines hit her this hard.

The man reached out to put a supportive arm around her, the only thing that kept her from falling.

“You’re not allowed to touch me,” she mumbled.

“This is an emergency. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

She leaned on him because she couldn’t help it, and it was strangely relieving to have his warm, strong body for support. He wasn’t as big as a lot of men in Court, but he was hard and strong and could easily hold her up.

Maybe it was just the contrast to how that other man had felt earlier, but she really liked how this one felt.

She wouldn’t have been able to keep walking if he hadn’t been supporting her, but soon the pain and nausea intensified so much her legs just wouldn’t hold her weight. She drooped against him, and he held her up with both arms.

“Should I go get help?” he murmured.

“No. I can make it. Just give me a minute.”

She tried to breathe, vaguely conscious of the fact that one of his hands was gently rubbing her back. It was entirely inappropriate. No man was allowed to touch her without permission, and this one wasn’t allowed to touch anyone at all until Patrice rejected him as a Potential. But she didn’t have the will to stop him. She didn’t even want to.

His hand slowly slid higher on her back until it was touching the bare skin at the nape of her neck.

She shivered as he gently massaged her there. She was dazed from the pain, but she was faintly conscious of a strange inner tug, somehow connected to his touch.

Immediately following it, she was washed with a deep wave of pleasure and relief.

The migraine wasn’t gone, but it was better. She collapsed more fully against his weight as the relief almost knocked her out. “What did you do?” she gasped.

“Nothing. Just massage your neck. I know I’m not supposed to, but I thought it would help.” One of his arms was wrapped around her, holding her up, and the other was rubbing her back through the fabric of her top.

“Do it again,” she panted, clinging to his arms and dazed from the sudden relief from pain.

He moved his hand back up to her neck and massaged the muscles there. It felt nice, relaxing, and then she felt that little inner tug again—almost imperceptible this time. The pleasure from it wafted over her, filling her body so deeply that she gasped helplessly.

He held her against him for another minute, until he finally cleared his throat and asked, “Do you think you can walk now?” His body had tightened, and he gently straightened her up, so she wasn’t draped against him anymore.

She blinked, barely able to think but feeling so much better she didn’t even care. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ve never had a migraine, but they seem terrible.”

“They are.” She was still aware of the painful throbbing, but it was bearable now, so she made herself start walking. She shook her head slightly, trying to clear her mind. “What just happened?” she asked after a minute.

“What do you mean?” His expression was bland, completely innocent.

“It felt like you did something.”

“I told you. Just massaged your neck. I thought it might help.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It felt like more than that.”

He gave a shrug and a little smile. “While I’d like to possess healing powers, I’m afraid they’re beyond me. Migraines make you spacey. You probably imagined it.”

“Maybe.” She wasn’t convinced, but she couldn’t make her mind work enough to figure it out.

“Let’s get you back so you can get your medicine.”

She didn’t talk as they walked back. She was now able to mostly support herself, and the man just kept his hand on the small of her back, as assistance if she needed it. She liked how it felt there. She’d liked how it felt when he touched her, when she’d leaned on him.

She’d never felt that way before, and she had no idea where it was coming from now.

And then there had been that strange tug, one that felt like something even more.

She definitely needed to get back to her room and return to her senses.

They made it to the edge of the woods—not far from the back entrance—and then they stopped in unison, both of them obviously realizing the same thing.

“We’ll have to go in separately,” she said. “We can’t be seen talking.”

“I know. Are you going to be okay?” His eyes were scanning her face, and it felt like he could see deep inside her, all the way to her core. “You’ve had a hard day.”

He couldn’t have known how hard it really ahd been.

“Yes.” The migraine was starting to intensify again. The relief she’d felt at his touch obviously couldn’t last. She wondered who in the universe this man was. “What’s your name?”

“Hall.”

“Oh. I’m Kyla.”

“I know who you are.”

The words sounded strangely significant. They made her shiver and flush, and then the throbbing of the migraine made her dizzy. She reached out to cling to his shirt when her knees almost buckled.

He gently brushed her hair before he dropped his hand, as if he’d remembered he shouldn’t be touching her.

“What did you do to me?” she asked, still trying to figure out what had happened earlier.

“Nothing.”

“It was something.”

“It was just your imagination.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You’re in no shape to argue,” he said, stepping back slightly from her.

That was true. She needed to lie down, give herself a shot. “What were you doing outside the walls?”

“Taking a walk. I don’t like to be penned up, even in a palace.” He smiled and met her eyes.

The last bit was true. She could see it in his expression. But the rest of what he’d said was a lie. She knew he was hiding something, lying to her.

She couldn’t trust him. He was dangerous. And she definitely shouldn’t be clinging to him this way.

She let her hands fall to her sides. “I’ll go in first. You wait a few minutes.”

He nodded. “Feel better.”

Again, there seemed to be more going on in his voice and expression than she could figure out, but she just didn’t have the strength to stay and unravel it. “Goodbye, Hall,” she mumbled, limping out of the shade of the trees and toward the back entrance of the palace.

There was just one guard there, and he was used to her going out and taking walks. He wouldn’t suspect she’d been talking to someone she shouldn’t be, touching someone who wasn’t allowed to touch her.

She was so distracted by Hall that she’d almost forgotten her near trauma earlier. And that was troubling in a different way. No man should be able to make her forget something like that, even for a few moments.

It would be best for her to avoid Hall in the future, but she couldn’t help but wonder when she would see him again.

***

Hall watched Kyla cross the courtyard, and then disappear into the palace through the small door.

His head was still whirling, filled with her—her pain, her relief, and a fresh kind of sweetness he hadn’t tasted in a really long time.

He’d been stupid to open a channel with her. Even with her migraine, she’d recognized that he’d done something. It was dangerous. He didn’t know her well enough to trust her, and there had been no real need to expose himself to her like that.

For decades now, the Coalition had been rounding up Readers, using the gifts of those who were willing, and then killing or imprisoning the others. Readers could tap into other people’s minds, and that was a skill too powerful for the Coalition to ignore.

But Hall could do more than that. His mother and grandmother and great-grandmother had all been Readers, but the gift had transformed into something else in him. He could do more than read what another was feeling. He could turn it around—make them feel something different.

The Coalition would never allow him to exist if they knew.

Which was why it was even more important for him not to do something as foolish as use his gift on Kyla, when it wasn’t a life-or-death situation. She’d been in so much pain. He’d wanted to make it better.

And, honestly, he’d wanted to taste her ever since he’d first seen her, sitting in the midst of a wild, sensuous Court, completely untouched by it.

Now, he couldn’t wait to taste her again.