When I got to my room, I threw myself onto the bed. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. I felt numb, like I was in mourning. Yet what was there to mourn? Finn and I didn’t have a relationship. I shouldn’t be this upset. It didn’t make sense to be so emotional. I still had so many questions I needed answers to, a murderer on the loose, and I was crying over a doomed relationship. How pitiful was I?

I sighed and rolled over. I still didn’t know how or why I was here, other than the Imani were involved. Those damn Imani. I hated them.

Xade knew; somehow, he knew of my plans.

I crouched and grabbed the knife, waiting for the catch. There was no way he armed me for a fair fight. The Imani didn’t know what that meant.

Xade himself remained weaponless, but he showed little fear of my blade. He stood stationary in the middle of the deck, waiting.

If he knew of my plans, then there was nothing left to lose; he would kill me. I swung my stiletto at Xade with a snarl.

He danced out of the way, back across the bridge, toward the helm. He slid sideways, and I tracked him, watching for my chance. Xade spread his arms wide in a taunt.

With a primal cry, I charged him.

He twisted and blocked my overhand thrust. His knee rose and plowed into my stomach.

I gagged and backed up. My chest heaved, breath coming out in pants. I flicked back my long red hair, wiped my face on my sleeve, and ran at him again.

He dodged, laughed mockingly. “So slow.”

“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you all!” I declared. I twisted and caught him on the face. His expression fell. He touched his cheek in disbelief, then glared at me. He bled red, just like me.

Xade motioned to three men I hadn’t noticed behind me, who stood silent witness to our fight. They moved toward me on soundless feet.

“I am done with this game,” Xade said.

The men approached me, but I remained focused on Xade, my tormentor. Though they all had identical pale blond hair, unblinking white eyes, and narrow faces, I always recognized him. It was the look in his eyes; the look that said he liked to hurt women.

Xade pulled a syringe from his pocket.

No.

I backpedaled into one of the men.

He grabbed my hand and twisted, disarming me, and then he pulled my arms above my head. The second and third man closed in. They gripped my legs and held me still.

I writhed and screamed, unable to break their hold.

Xade strode forward, jabbed the needle into my jugular, then depressed the plunger. His eyes glittered with malice.

My vision blurred. “No, not this again. Please.”

“No, not this again,” he agreed. “This is our last and final gift to you, the gift of innocence. You will not remember the time you have spent with us. You can die happy and unaware, ignorant of your potential.”

I jerked in their hands at the mention of death.

Xade observed the movement with a smug smile. He leaned close to me and whispered, “See, we believe you. We believe there is nothing that will stop you from remembering that which we did not wish you to know. No matter what drugs we give you, no matter the gifts we lavish on you, you will not stop your crusade, and we are tired of your ingratitude.”

I dropped out of their arms and fell to the deck with a thud. “Gifts,” I spat out. “Torture, experiments, pain. None of those are gifts.”

They stood and observed me lying at their feet. None of them smiled. No, that was too much emotion for them; only Xade showed any expression. He was the progenitor of their line, which made sense.

My vision grew dim. My ears rang with the beat of my heart, which gradually slowed as I listened. I saw blood trickling from a cut on Xade’s face, and it made me happy. I had marked him, as he had marked me countless times.

To my right, I saw the mountainside. It reminded me of home. I wanted to go home. I was dead anyway.

With a roar, I jumped up and staggered to the edge.

Xade’s laughter followed me down.

I jerked awake. My hands flew out and I sat upright, heart pounding. I wasn’t falling. I wasn’t with the Imani anymore. I was on Solum, with Marin.

When I glanced beside me, Marin was there, where I knew he would be. He lay on his back, his left arm above his head. His right hand reached out to me. “Hey, beautiful, are you well? I am here.”

I grabbed his hand and held it to my chest. He sat up and pulled me close, rubbing his other hand down my back. I curled up next him on my side, my leg wedged between his. This was fast becoming my favorite position.

Marin pushed the hair out of my eyes and cradled my face. “Elizabeth? Bad dream again?”

I burrowed into him and nodded. His hand cupped my cheek; I turned and kissed his palm. He put his finger under my chin, and I found myself looking at him.

His eyes glowed, light brown with little specks of green and gold. This close, I could see his slit pupils constrict as he gazed at me. No matter how beautiful his eyes were, the intelligence there, the cunning, always struck me hardest. I did like a man in charge. The distance faded between us. Marin’s lips grazed mine and clung, so close. My face flushed. I let my tongue swipe along his bottom lip. His eyes narrowed.

I knew it was wrong even as I did it. I’d been doing a lot of things wrong lately. I needed this. I opened my mouth and took the kiss deeper.

Marin continued to stare at me, a question in his eyes.

I wrapped around his neck. I kissed him. I forgot about everything and let myself feel.

Tingles raced along my skin. It felt so good. I could kiss him forever, but I didn’t just want kisses. I wanted to feel him driving into me. I wanted to feel alive, to know I survived that awful day. Maybe, I wanted to get back at Finn. Maybe, I didn’t know what I wanted beyond physical release.

I drew back.

Marin was panting, hands still cradling my face. “What do you want?”

He echoed my thoughts.

Pushing him onto his back, I straddled him. “You.”

“Are you sure?”

I placed my finger over his lips. This wasn’t the time for questions. My red hair fell around my face. I leaned down, kissing him. Deeper, harder. He caught on. His eyes still questioned, but his legs drew up, and I fell against him. I braced above him, my hair a cocoon around us; he lifted a hand and skimmed the back of his fingers along my cheek. I turned and nipped at his thumb.

He flipped our positions. I was on my back, Marin between my legs. His elbows bracketed my head. His mouth devoured mine. Kiss after kiss.

He tasted like man and something sweet, like cherry. It lingered on his tongue. I sucked lightly. He moaned and broke the kiss, his face shoving into my neck.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this. It felt unreal, like it wasn’t happening to me. Marin purred as he nibbled on the outer shell of my ear. Instinctively, I tilted my head, giving him better access. He sucked my lower lobe into his mouth, and speared his tongue into my ear. Jesus, that felt good. I shuddered, and my nipples pebbled. My stomach tightened, and power rushed through me. Weird, I was pulling power.

I broke off and looked at him. “Did you feel that?”

He blinked. “I am feeling a lot of great things right now. Be more specific.”

That made me smile.

“Never mind,” I murmured. I lunged up and shoved him back, so I was on top again, my fingers running through his hair.

I couldn’t help exhaling at seeing him spread out before me. He didn’t have a shirt on. His hands were on my shoulders, but he relaxed back on the pillow. His hair spread out around him, soft and silky to my questing fingers. His slit pupils were wide and fixed on me. It was a little disconcerting. My stomach twisted.

His marks were stark against the bedding and my skin. Marin smiled up at me. My fingers trailed up to caress his face. I traced them along his eyes. He had such thick eyelashes. My fingers stroked along his nose, touched his lip. He looked so vulnerable lying there, his need blazing up at me.

It hit me, how different from me he was. He was Fost; I was human. The differences between us were highlighted as he lay there. His eyes. I’d gotten used to the slits, but for some reason they called to me now. His long limbs, the weird way they moved sometimes, the echo in his voice. What was I doing? Momentary jitters washed through me, only to be banished by his smile.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Stop asking.”

I rubbed my fingers along his cheekbones.

He beamed at me as he leaned up and caressed my lips with his, pulling me down across him. He reversed our positions and loomed over me. One more kiss, a shared breath, and he got out of bed. I mewled in protest, but he was just taking off his pants.

Marin made a bit of a show of it this time, taking his time unlacing them and pushing them down, letting me watch. This was the first time I’d gotten to see him naked. The time in his room and the bath didn’t count, because I’d tried to be good and not enjoy the scenery. But now, now I could enjoy. Thick muscle rippled under his skin as he moved. His eyes were so brown, almost golden in this light. The slit pupils didn’t strike me as odd anymore. His hair fell in a curtain around his face, the green stripe notable as he gazed at me beneath his lashes. He had a broad chest that tapered to a fine set of abs. His marks flowed across his shoulder to mid-forearm and along his chest. His shaft jutted out at me. Swallowing, I looked up at him, licking my lips. He shuddered all over.

“I love how you look at me.” He crawled onto the bed. I’d had the same thought about him.

He stroked his lips along mine. Our tongues tangled again as I trailed my hands down his arms. I couldn’t believe this was happening. His hands gripped my hips. His legs maneuvered between mine, pushing them apart. His fingers stroked me lightly, prepping me for him. He was big. He kept rubbing himself along my folds, teasing me.

“I do not know if I can wait. I want to explore you, find out everything you like, but not tonight.” His gaze met mine, and he kissed me, braced himself above me, and slid into me with one stroke. I cried out, arching. He filled me all the way. My power shifted and rolled.

A breeze buffeted the room. This time, I knew he felt it; he pressed his hand to my stomach, then reached to caress my breasts. He set a fast pace. We were both panting. He took me missionary style; his head lowered to lave attention on my breasts as he pushed me ever higher. I clenched onto him, making him groan and look up at me.

His gaze held mine as he thrust inside me. He seemed so intent on pleasuring me. It felt like I was the only thing he cared about. His eyes went heavy-lidded. He beamed at me. I didn’t want to know what he saw in my eyes, but he liked it. He sealed my lips with his as his fingers delved between my legs, flicking my most sensitive spot. I came, screaming out his name. He groaned and followed me in one more thrust. His manhood pulsed deep inside me, making me moan. His face was above mine. His eyes never wavered. I heard his voice whisper in my ear, in my mind.

“Mine.”