Sitting on the bed next to Eve, Cain reached for the comb that Hope had given him.

He ran it from her scalp, down the long dark strands, making sure to separate out any knots.

Red highlights glinted among the black. Putting the comb aside, he curled his palm around the heavy length.

He placed his nose at the base of her neck and sniffed. The scent of lilies and wildfire tugged at his groin.

He wanted her in his home, in his bed. To slide his fingers over her curves, feel her heart throb against his, to feel those lips on his skin... He wanted to see her fly.

“Get up.” He buried his face in her hair.

There was no response.

The frustration of staying with her, not being able to tear himself from her side, wanting his life back, yet not wanting to let go of her, all of it twisted his insides. “Open your eyes.” His chest ached.

“Stop yelling, you’re giving me a headache.”

Cain froze. Had he misheard?

There were only two of them in the room. He hadn’t said those words.

“Who’re you?” The voice was rough at the edges. It held a hint of anger.

Cain tasted the acerbic tinge of something like...dominance from her.

Cain’s lion tossed his mane, sniffing the air. At last, here was an opponent worthy of a chase.

He raised his head.

Eyes of shattered violet met his.

A shudder wracked her shoulders. She swallowed, then her tongue flicked out to touch her lips.

Picking up a bottle of water, he held it to her mouth.

She drank from the straw.

When some of it dribbled down her lips, he used the back of his hand to wipe it from her chin.

She angled her head so his hand dropped away.

Of course, she didn’t know who he was. His throat closed. His lion paced, pushed against his skin, wanting to get closer to her.

She was awake, she was going to make it. He placed the bottle back on the side table. His hands shook. Relief made him lightheaded.

What was her dragon going to make of him? His stomach churned as he straightened. He should leave now that she had regained consciousness.

Her gaze traced the black ink that ran over his biceps to disappear beneath the sleeve of his shirt. There was no change in expression.

What was she thinking? She must be confused at waking up in a strange place, seeing an unfamiliar face.

He depressed the switch at the side of the bed. “I just called the doc. He’ll ask Hope to come.”

She tried to sit up and bit her lip.

He felt the pain radiate off her.

“Stay still. Don’t hurt yourself.” He cursed himself as soon as the words were out. He’d meant to be gentle and ease her into her surroundings.

Instead, he was acting all possessive. His lion quivered with anticipation. He wanted to take her home, hide her away from the world where no Elysian, no shifter, no one else could hurt her.

Another shiver rocked her shoulders. She tightened her fingers, which were wrapped around his.

Her gaze slid to where her hand grasped his.

She let go.

It was as if a part of him had been cut off. He felt unmoored.

His lion growled. What was he waiting for? Why was he not claiming her, telling her how he’d taken care of her all these weeks? He was going to protect her for as long as he lived.

Right. She didn’t know any of this. She had to familiarize herself with who he was.

“You still haven’t answered me.” She pushed at the hair that had fallen over her forehead, tucking it behind her ear.

He folded his arms over his chest. Her attention dropped to the breadth of his shoulders. Her gaze slipped to the hard planes of his stomach. And stayed there.

Heat flared, hot and sweet. Liquid desire hardened him. He made no attempt to hide it.

She may not know who he was, but she was attracted to him.

“I’m Cain, a Guardian of Bombay. You’re in the infirmary run by the mayor of the city.” He scratched his jaw.

She moved her back, sinking into the pillow. Raising her knee, she rubbed her thighs together.

The scent of wildfire, and below that, a deeper, heady musk filled the air. She was aroused.

The dragoness wanted him, she just didn’t know it yet.

“You, a cat?” She rubbed her nose.

His lips peeled back. “You didn’t disapprove of my smell the past two weeks.”

Her forehead furrowed, and she pushed her shoulders back. “A lion shifter?”

He canted his head, answering her question without words.

She tried to rise from her bed, only to fall back. The skin over her knuckles stretched white as she clutched at the sheets.

“Easy, kitten, you’ve been out for a while.”

She narrowed her eyes at the endearment but didn’t protest.

That gave him hope.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“Two weeks.” He watched her, wiping all expression from his face.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Two—?” Her color slid away from her skin, leaving her even paler than before.

It tugged the part of him that wanted to take care of her. “You need to rest.” He gripped the arms of his chair to get up.

Eve thrust out her chest.

Those sensuous curves of her breasts rose and fell under the rough cloth of the hospital gown. “Not until you tell me what you’re doing here.” The command in her voice rang through the space between them.

He wanted to protect her. Didn’t mean he was going to let her walk all over him.

As a dominant, he knew how important it was to hold his own against another, whose will was as strong as his own.

“Oh?” He clasped his hands behind his neck.

Her gaze slid to where his shirt had ridden up to reveal the strip of skin above his jeans.

He bit the inside of his cheek, shoving down the chuckle that threated to ripple out. His lion stretched in anticipation of the hunt. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”