Helen stepped up to the microphone, and flipped her twin braids over her shoulders. “You all know why you’re here, so I’ll be brief. My sister Jackie has agreed to choose one of you. I want you all to remember that she can only pick one, so most of you will be disappointed.” She pointed a finger in stern warning. “Do not let that turn any of you into jerks, or I’ll be forced to take action. I doubt you’ll enjoy the outcome. Understood?”

There was a general rumble of assent among the thirty or forty men present. Iain didn’t recognize all of them—men had been coming from the far corners of the world after hearing rumors of Jackie’s presence.

“She’s going to accept a vow from each of you, and then make her decision. So please file up in an orderly fashion.”

Drake, Helen’s husband, stood guard at the stairs, doing crowd control. His sword was out and visible, as a warning to any who might consider causing trouble.

On the opposite side of the stage stood Andra. Her black leather, combat boots, and readied stance didn’t fool Iain. If the green tint to her skin was any indication, she was nervous about these proceedings. Paul was at her side, his hand low at her back in a protective gesture. Apparently, he was worried about her as much as she was worried about Jackie.

Madoc scowled at the men from his post near the rear doors. Nika stood in front of him, staring off into space, her head cocked to the side as if she were listening to something no one else could hear. A faint smile curled her lips for no obvious reason.

One by one, each warrior filed up to offer Jackie his vow. The first man in line was Nicholas, his horribly scarred face so full of hope that it almost made Iain wince. He was a good man, but he wasn’t exactly the most handsome man around, and Jackie didn’t have a whole lot to go on. Looks would matter, if only in a small way.

The moment Nicholas stepped up, bare chested and smiling, Jackie looked up and flinched. It was a small movement, covered up in milliseconds, but Iain saw it and knew Nicholas was out of the running. Poor bastard.

Still, he knelt, sliced a shallow cut over his heart, and offered her his vow. “My life for yours.”

Jackie’s gray eyes widened as she saw the blood. She swayed on her feet, and Helen put an arm around her shoulders to steady her.

Cain was next, and Iain hoped that the leaf tattoos he’d given the other man—the ones that would help disguise his lifemark’s lack of leaves—were no longer red and swollen, thanks to their natural ability to heal fast.

No one seemed to be looking at Cain’s chest. All eyes were on Jackie. Good.

“Nice ring he’s wearing,” muttered Madoc from behind Iain.

“Leave it alone,” warned Iain. “You owe me that much.”

“Yeah, yeah. My fucking lips are sealed.”

Iain nodded, letting the matter drop.

The line progressed, and with each man who bled for her, she seemed to lose a bit of color. The weight of all those promises seemed to crush her until her breathing was fast and shallow.

Iain made his way to the end of the line, pretending like he wanted this as much as the rest of them. No one knew it was too late to save him, and he had to keep it that way, even if it meant going through this ridiculous charade.

Samuel was in front of him, and he took his turn kneeling at her feet and offering to die for her. The ring portion of his luceria was pristine against the scarred flesh of his left hand. As he neared her, the colors in his ring began to move, swirling with yellows and golds.

Iain’s ring no longer contained any discernible color. It had faded to a pale, snowy white with age. So far he’d found no way of disguising it, but several of the older men’s rings were also washed-out, so he simply pretended that it wasn’t a problem, and everyone else took their cues from him. As long as he kept his monster in check, didn’t try to hide his lifemark, and pretended his honor was still intact, no one would question his soul’s status.

Samuel rose and moved away, his face alight with hope.

Iain could find none. He couldn’t even find the sorrow that his hope had died long ago.

Shrugging away the thought, he stepped up to Jackie. Her eyes were wide, and her pupils had shrunk to reveal paler gray rays among the darker ones. Her hair was shiny and clean, unlike the first time he’d seen her. She’d cut away the dirty, matted clumps, and styled it so that it curled around her jaw. A pale scar bisected her left eyebrow, and he found himself wondering how she’d been injured. Had it been some childhood accident, or had that been done to her during her captivity?

A slow, feral rage expanded beneath his ribs at the thought of her being hurt. The monster inside of him rumbled in warning, rattling the bars of its cage as if testing for weakness. Iain tightened his control on the beast and pushed thoughts of her injury aside before he lost control. With an audience like this, there could be no mistakes.

Instead, he focused on her mouth, which she’d colored the same deep red as her suit. Her lips were full, the bottom one wavering the slightest bit in trepidation.

“What are you staring at?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just committing this moment to memory,” he lied.

Before he could raise any suspicion, he drew his sword, knelt in front of her, and cut himself. “My life for yours, Jackie.”

She stumbled, but Helen held her up. Iain waited until the weight of his vow evaporated before he rose to his feet and left the stage without looking back.

As he made his way to the back of the room, he saw dozens of faces staring up at her. So much hope. He didn’t know why they bothered when they knew that all but one of them were going to be disappointed.

“Take your time,” he heard Helen say to Jackie.

He wanted to slip out, but that was too risky. He’d have to explain why he was willing to walk out on the best chance of living any of them currently had. It was better not to draw attention to himself. Pretend he cared. Pretend he had hope.

“I don’t need any time,” said Jackie. “I just want to get this over with.”

“Okay. I understand. Which man do you choose?” asked Helen.

Iain swore he could hear the men draw in their breaths in anticipation.

He settled in his seat as Jackie’s wavering voice filled the auditorium. “I want Iain.”

Chapter 4

Jackie tried to still the panic rioting inside of her. What the hell was she thinking picking the coldest man of the bunch?

At least she wouldn’t let him down. Everyone else had looked at her with such hope. She knew she’d crush their spirits. But not Iain. He had simply looked at her, accepting of whatever she decided. There was no hidden agenda in his gaze, no dreams for her to destroy. He was the only man here who wasn’t asking something from her that she knew she could never give.

The room fell silent at her announcement, then exploded into shock, anger, and disbelief.

“That’s it,” shouted Helen over the noise. “It’s done. Clear the room.”

Iain hadn’t moved from his seat. He hadn’t so much as flinched. He continued to stare at her with those calm, black eyes that registered no emotion.

Finally, he stood. Her panic deepened. She was crazy to do this. Certifiably insane.

He took a step toward her, and she bolted, like a scared little rabbit. She pushed through the crowd to the nearest door, ignoring the frantic buzzing of her skin as she accidentally touched the men, and ran through the hall to her suite.

Jackie scurried inside, slammed the door, and then leaned against the wood, panting. Her heart was racing so fast, she could barely hear. The wood at her back vibrated with a loud banging.

Her heart lodged in her throat again, stealing away what little calm she’d managed to regain.

“Open up,” said Iain. “We need to talk.”

“Later,” she called through the door.

“No. Now.”

He was right. The longer she put this off, the worse it was going to be. She was already shaking and numb from suffering through that ceremony. Best to get it over with now.

She opened the door and moved away from it as if it were on fire. Iain stalked inside, shutting and locking it behind him.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded. His mouth was drawn tight, and his body shook with anger.

She’d seen that look before. It was the same one he wore when he killed.

Jackie struggled to find her voice. “I thought you’d be happy.”

At least until she left, like she was planning to do. He’d be pissed then, and now that she was facing that anger, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be on the receiving end of it.

His voice grew quiet, but that made it no less cold. “There are dozens of men who need you more than I do.”

“I can’t be what they want me to be.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You already are what they want you to be.”

She shook her head. “No. They think I’m some kind of savior. That I’m what they’ve been hoping for all their lives. It’s too much pressure.” She swallowed, forcing herself to stand her ground. “But not you. You have no hope.”

His black eyes narrowed and he moved forward, his smooth gait menacing and predatory. His voice was lethally quiet and he looked at her with unveiled suspicion. “What do you mean by that?”

She backed up until she ran into the couch, which kept her from retreating farther. “The others…they all looked at me like I’m the answer to their problems. I’m not. You get that.”

“So you picked me because you can’t save me?”

She shook her head. “Because you don’t seem to want to be saved. I figured that when I fail to be what all these people think I’ll be, that my failure would be easier on you than the others.”

“You’re wrong. Take it back. Pick someone else.”

“Why?”

She heard muffled voices through her door. Someone said something about remotely unlocking it, and her door flew open. Joseph stood there, with Drake and Helen behind him.

“What are you doing here?” asked Iain.

“You looked angry,” said Joseph. “I wasn’t about to let you do something stupid.”

A calm facade covered Iain’s face. Gone was the anger that had been there only a moment ago, as if he’d simply willed it away. “Of course I’m not angry. I’m simply anxious to complete our union. I didn’t think it would be kind to do it in public—rubbing it in, so to speak.”

“There will be no union,” said Jackie.

Every head swiveled her way, and four sets of eyes rested on her.

“What?” asked Joseph as he moved forward. Behind him, Drake shut the door.

Jackie was done being intimidated. She didn’t like it. She squared her shoulders and smoothed her hands over her suit to remind herself who was in charge of her life. “Our deal was that I pick a man, not that I do anything else. I’ve picked. Now you have to let me leave. Alone.”

“Like hell,” said Iain. “You go out there alone, without any powers, and you’ll be eaten before sunrise.”

“Joseph promised,” she said, then looked at Joseph. “Didn’t you?”