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Defy the Dawn





Zael’s growl sounded more than menacing, but his touch was achingly light on her face. “How long?”

She shrugged. “Years. I didn’t find my way out until after the Order had killed him and the Minions guarding the lab died too.”

“Minions he’d made,” Zael guessed. “And when their maker died, so did they.”

“Yes. Many of Dragos’s prisoners escaped that day. I broke out of my cell and I ran. I just kept running. Eventually, I landed in London. I started a new life there.”

“What about Tavia? Was she a prisoner with you?”

Brynne shook her head. “She told me she was sent to live with a Minion handler from the time she was a child. She was lied to, told nothing of what she was. Dragos ensured her Breed metabolism was suppressed with medications and her handler made her believe she needed the treatments because she was ill.”

“Does she know what happened to you in the lab?”

“No.” God, just the thought made her cringe with humiliation. “I let her think that I was in the same program she was. It seemed easier that way. Easier for me to keep living the lie I chose, not the one Dragos forced on me.”

Zael studied her soberly. “Sooner or later, don’t you think you’ll have to tell her the truth?”

“And watch her shrink away from me in fear for herself and everyone she cares about?” Brynne couldn’t bite back the strangled sound of anguish that bubbled in the back of her throat. “She would hate me for lying to her all this time, Zael. But not before I see her pity for what Dragos made me. He would’ve done me a favor if he had just taken my head and finally ended me.”

“Don’t say that,” Zael whispered fiercely. “Don’t even think it.”

“It’s true. You saw for yourself tonight. I’m a monster, Zael.” She astonished herself by how evenly she was able to say the words to him. Words she’d never spoken before. Not to anyone. Not ever. “Every time I feed, I lose a part of who I am. And if I don’t feed, if I delay it because I can’t stand what I become, then it’s only worse when I finally do give in. If I feel threatened, or if I’m overcome with anger, it’s the same thing. I can’t control it.”

“What if you took a mate? One from the Breed.”

Her head snapped up at that. To hear him suggest it pricked at her, even if it was a reasonable question.

“Never,” she said, appalled by the very idea. “How could I expect someone to share my life when I can’t be certain I won’t end up hurting them? Or worse?”

He ran his fingers down the side of her arm, his eyes searching hers. “Wouldn’t a blood bond with a Breed male help you cope? I’m no expert on that, but I understand the bond strengthens both of the individuals it connects.”

“And if it doesn’t in my case? The blood bond didn’t make the Ancients less monstrous. It didn’t keep some of the worst of their kind from killing their mates.” She vehemently shook her head. “I tried to tell you, Zael. I’m alone for a reason. By my own choice.”

His hand came up to cup her cheek. “You didn’t hurt me tonight.”

She gave him a wry look. “Only because you hit me with a dose of Atlantean electric shock treatment before I had the chance.”

He didn’t as much as smile at her attempt at levity. “I shouldn’t have done it. Using my power like that was a risk I never should’ve taken.” He stared at her, his expression serious. “And if I hurt you, Brynne—”

“You didn’t.” She pressed her hand to his cheek. “You didn’t hurt me. You helped me.”

His frown eased only a degree. “That’s all I wanted. I could see you were hurting, and I had to help you through it if I could.” He reached around her and cut off the water. “I wasn’t going to leave your side.”

She stared into his brilliant blue eyes, struck by his tender words and his patient care with her. How was he able to exasperate her with his overbearing cockiness and refusal to leave her alone, yet make her heart twist with yearning at the same time?

Now that the noise of the shower was silenced, she was achingly aware of the fast, heavy pound of her pulse. Standing so close to Zael, she heard his heartbeat too. She couldn’t resist placing her hand against the bronze-skinned, corded strength of his chest.

He touched her, too, brushing his fingertips over one nipple, then the other, his caress light, undemanding. A rush of arousal streaked through her, and he responded with a low, approving growl in the back of his throat.

His cock had been erect since he’d entered the shower with her, but now it surged even harder in the narrow space between their naked bodies.

“I’m afraid, Zael.” It was apparently a night for first admissions, because these were further words she had never said to anyone before in her life. “You scare me. You have from the very first day I saw you.”

He lifted her chin, holding her gaze as he lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss seared her senses, despite its gentleness. It answered all of her fears, more than any words could.

She’d never had someone take care of her the way he had tonight. She didn’t know she could enjoy someone’s touch like this, or need someone’s comfort so profoundly.

No, not just someone.

Just this man.

Only Zael.

And, yes, that scared her.

It terrified her, how deeply she was beginning to care for him.

He cupped her face in his broad hand and she turned into his palm, pressing her lips to the center of it, the spot that had been glowing earlier tonight. Her tongue darted out to taste him and he growled, low and deep and primal.

It was all the warning he gave her before he swept her off her feet and up into his arms.

With her hair dripping and their bodies still wet from the shower, he strode into the bedroom with her.

 

 

CHAPTER 23

 

Brynne was light in his arms, her face nestled against his chest as Zael carried her out to the bedroom. He held her close, hoping she couldn’t feel the fury that was coursing through him after hearing what she had suffered at the hands of the man who made her.

He seethed over those other things she didn’t say.

Abuse so heinous she didn’t—or could not—put it into words. But it had been evident enough on her tormented face. Whatever had been done to her physically had left no traces on her body. Her advanced metabolism would have taken care of that. It was the other scars she carried inside that had obviously wounded her far worse.
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