The room was dark, the bed was warm, and the woman in Robert’s arms was sleeping peacefully with her head on his chest, her arm resting next to it, and her leg thrown over his.

Frozen in the same position, he’d been awake for hours, listening to Sharon’s even breathing and steady heartbeat while waging war with his conscience.

According to Julian, as long as Robert used condoms, Sharon couldn’t turn. But that wasn’t a foolproof method. There was no reason to believe that it was more effective at preventing transition than it was at preventing unwanted pregnancy.

Julian had suggested waiting until Robert was sure of his feelings for her, and hers for him. But what if a condom failed and Sharon transitioned without being told?

It was wrong. Turning a Dormant without her knowledge was dishonest.

They’d been seeing each other almost every day for the past two weeks, but it was not long enough to make such life-altering decisions. After all, he and Carol had been together for much longer than that, and things had ended between them.

The difference was that Carol had never claimed to have feelings for him other than gratitude. On his part, he’d been convinced that he loved her, but with the perspective of time and distance, he’d realized that he’d been more in love with the concept of finding an immortal mate than with Carol herself. She was a beautiful woman, sensual and passionate. And she was kind, despite what everyone thought of her after she’d kicked him out. But she wasn’t his one and only.

Was Sharon?

Robert was afraid of even entertaining the thought. What if he was convincing himself they had something special the same way he’d done with Carol?

Except, this time, the consequences of his mistake could be dire. If he weren't Sharon’s fated mate, he’d better stand aside and let the right man step up.

The rage that thought brought about was as startling as it was terrifying.

It had been ages since Robert had felt the impulse to kill. He despised that dark part of himself, that monster that had time and again burst out of him, providing the edge he’d needed on the many battlefields he’d fought on.

He refused to be that guy, that unthinking, vicious killing machine. How many children had he orphaned? How many women had he widowed?

Those thoughts had always come haunting him after the killing was done. But never in the heat of the battle. That was why he never wanted to be a soldier again. The monster inside him was still there, buried deep, but always at the ready to emerge in the right circumstances.

The thing that terrified him the most was that the killing frenzy would emerge somewhere other than the battlefield. Like it had now at the thought of Sharon with someone else.

She stirred, turning to the other side and pulling the blanket up to her nose. Robert tucked it under her to keep her warm.

In the next room, he heard Julian get out of bed. A moment later he heard him in the bathroom, flushing the toilet and turning the shower on. It was easy to imagine Julian standing under the spray, lifting his too handsome face to the water and flexing muscles no doctor should sport.

He was the type of male any female craved. Not only was Julian good-looking, smart, and well-educated, he was also young and untarnished by a dark past. Robert envied the guy’s easy smile and cheerfulness, an attitude only someone who’d never endured or witnessed horrors could hold on to.

What if Julian was the one for Sharon?

As the uncontrollable rage seized Robert again, he shifted sideways and got out of bed without disturbing the mattress. It wasn’t safe for him to remain in the apartment while the monster lurked so close to the surface. The best way to subdue it was to exorcise it by exhausting the body.

After a quick visit to the en-suite bathroom, Robert pulled on a pair of loose exercise pants, a T-shirt he intended to later discard, and running shoes. He wasn’t supposed to leave the apartment once he got there after work, but he was only hitting the gym.

After all, he’d used that route every morning when going to his office in the underground and later returning home. Because this level wasn’t occupied by the clan, the corridor and the guest elevators were all rigged with cameras. He had no doubt he’d been followed on the monitors every time he made his way to and from work.

Stepping outside, he waved at the camera, pointed to his running shoes, and mouthed, “Going to the gym.”

He took the guest elevator to the lobby, where he ducked through the hidden door to the other elevator bank that served the clan and took one down to the gym level.

Thankfully, at four in the morning, the place was deserted, and there was no one to watch him demolish a punching bag.