As his lips covered hers, he urged her to open for him, swallowing her gasp when she did. He gripped her head in his hands, holding her right beneath him as he prowled inside her mouth, tasting her. As he had when he'd kissed her last night, Duke wallowed in her flavor, and its rightness. Sugar, woman, a hint of tartness. His--no question about that.

After a moment's hesitation, Felicia threw her arms around him, clutching his shoulders. Pressing closer, she whimpered. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, and as he tilted his head to take the kiss even deeper, his gaze brushed her face. Red lips, half-closed eyes. Desire had wiped the fear from her face, leaving her wanting--panting--just as he craved.

"See," he breathed. "What's between us is good, Felicia. Of course I want your love."

As if he'd dumped a bucket of ice water over her, she blanched and shook her head in denial. She backed out of his arms, toward the door. Her blue eyes teared up, imploring him not to chase her.

"What's the matter? Why does love scare you?"

She didn't say a word, just turned. And ran.

Her rebuff ratcheted up his need to claim her, mark her. His hands trembled, his blood boiled. His cock ached. Duke had never wanted any woman half as much as he wanted Felicia. She was a fever clawing under his skin, driving him mad with desire.

And he knew she wanted him every bit as badly.

Felicia glanced at him over her shoulder. She looked afraid and overwhelmed. He cursed ... but forced himself to let her go. For now. She needed whatever time he could give her to accept him and their mating, to come to terms with whatever troubled her.

Duke would give her what he could, but with danger looming and the fever rising, it couldn't be long.

Since Felicia was impervious to magic, it stood to reason that more than the exchange of a few words might be required to make them a bonded pair, especially on her part. Sex was the next logical possibility.

And he must figure out--quickly--why she feared love.

Leaning against the wall of her bedroom, he closed his eyes and hissed at the cold stone against his overheated skin. Her addictive flavor lingered on his tongue.

The fact that she didn't love Mason changed everything. Instead of settling for possessing her body to hide her imprint, he had no trouble admitting that he ached all the way to his soul with the need to capture her heart, no matter the cost.

The mobile in his pocket rang. Duke grabbed it and, without thought, teleported out of the cave for better reception. Which told him that Felicia had wandered to some remote corner of the caves, far from him. He tried not to be depressed by that thought.

With the January wind whipping through his hair and clothes, he shivered as he extracted the phone. The name on the caller ID made him swear.

"What do you want, Mason?"

"To speak with my fiancee."

My mate, now and always. "She's ... sleeping."

Let Mason make of that what he wished. Though he disliked hurting his brother, Duke wasn't above playing dirty to hold on to her.

"Don't antagonize me. Remember, you must have Felicia back to me in a few hours or I will have you arrested for--"

"Kidnapping. I remember. Start preparing the papers now, if you must. She's not safe yet, and I'm not returning her." Ever.

"You fucking prick--"

"Spare me the insults, Mason. We've traded them already. I'm sorry things didn't turn out to your liking. Do you love her?"

"Of course." His younger brother bristled.

Duke had known that, but hearing it was still a machete to his heart. "I assume you'd prefer her safe rather than dead."

"Damn you, Simon. None of this makes any sense. What the devil is going on? I should be with Felicia on my honeymoon, not wondering where the hell she is and if she's going to be all right."

"Keeping her safe is my number one priority, I promise."

"Make certain that's all you do with her."

Mason tried to cover his apprehension with demands. Typical Mason. Duke wasn't in the mood.

"Why did you wish to marry her if you knew she didn't love you?"

Duke heard the fury in Mason's hesitation and smiled into the phone. Score.

"Don't be ridiculous. Felicia loves me," he blustered. "She has for years."

"Really? She referred to you as her best friend."

"Best friend, yes. Fiance. Lover." Mason let that last word sink in, and it worked.

Possessive heat poured off Duke in waves. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to crush his phone in his fist.

"Felicia loves me," Mason assured him. "She'd never have spent so much time with me, trusted me with her house keys or finances, or agreed to marry me if she didn't.

She merely has trouble saying the words."

Perhaps, but ... "You admitted your love prior to your wedding and she balked, which means you hadn't confessed your feelings previously."

"So? I'm hardly a walking greeting card. Why are you digging into our relationship? Hoping to find a way to part us? I know that woman inside out, her likes, her dislikes, her demons. She's mine."

Wrong. Duke knew she felt something for him that she didn't feel for Mason.

"Why is she afraid of men? Of love?" Whatever spooked Felicia stood between them far more than his brother did.

"Simon ..." he warned. "There's only one reason you want to know this, and I'll be damned if I'll help you take her from me."

"I have to earn her trust so that she'll let me keep her safe. Every time I try, she grabs me with one hand and pushes me away with the other. Why?"

Mason paused, and Duke's guts seized up. He'd played his hand too heavily, and no doubt his younger brother would tell him to shove off. Damn it, he needed to know what frightened Felicia away from him.

"She didn't tell you?" Mason laughed, low and ugly. "Then she's still mine."

Felicia swiped the last of the tears from her face, furious with herself. Running away and crying were a coward's actions. Everyone around her, Hurstgrove especially, had bent over backward to keep her safe. She needed to stiffen her spine and do her part.

I won't rest until your heart ismine. Those words echoed in her head, striking fear inside her. Yet yearning settled in with it. She could still feel his kiss possessing her mouth until she couldn't think straight. Until he tugged at her heart.

Somehow she must fully bond with him without falling for him. She hadn't the first bloody clue how.

First action, find Sabelle. The other woman would have information she needed to make informed decisions without Bram breathing down her neck. Then she had to act quickly.

Wandering up from the bowels of the caves, she followed dark and twisting passages up several flights of stairs until she heard bustling and female chatter. Breaking into the main seating and adjoining office areas, she found the Doomsday Brethren's mates all staring at the door, as if awaiting her.

"There she is," Sabelle said with a smile.

Kari and Sydney smiled her way, then dove back into what looked like packing the household into boxes.

Felicia frowned. "How did you know I was coming?"

"Everyone's magic stopped working." Olivia winked.

Oh. "I'm preventing you from getting something done. Sorry. I came to ask you if I could help read through some of Merlin's books, but I'll leave you to your work."

Sabelle shrugged. "No worries. Stay. We're nearly finished. If you'd like to lend a hand ..."

"No problem." Then she frowned. "Are you packing up to leave? If it's because I inhibit your magic--"

"No. It's not your abilities," Sydney promised, tucking a strand of long auburn hair behind one ear and reaching for a big mirror on the wall. "Bram is a cautious git."

"That he is," Sabelle seconded. "Shock warned us that he could only keep Zain and Mathias away for so long. We must be prepared to leave."

The witch turned to help Sydney with a large gilt-edged mirror on the wall.

"Careful," the redhead cautioned. "That's my favorite mirror."

"You have a favorite mirror?" Felicia blurted. Was Caden's mate that vain?

Sydney laughed at her confusion. "Not for grooming. It's the magical equivalent of a television camera for broadcasting the news. I've become magickind's correspondent about the Doomsday Brethren, Mathias, and the war."

"I see," Felicia muttered. "Somewhat."

Kari glanced at her watch. "It's after midnight. We need to finish this up."

"When will you leave?" Felicia didn't know them well, but all these women had welcomed her despite the danger she'd brought. If she let herself, she could become friends with them.

" We--meaning you as well--will leave once Bram gives the word. For now, all the warriors except Duke have been out for hours, trying to lure Mathias out of hiding with the Doomsday Diary as bait."

"Morganna le Fay's book?"

"The very one. But a female must transport it. Mathias knows that and isn't taking the bait, it appears. Shock is nowhere to be found, and none of the other avenues my brother has used to reach Mathias appear to be passing the information he planted. In case it smells fishy to him, Bram's asked us to be ready to bolt at a moment's notice."

"With your prized possessions?"

"Yes. Merlin's tomes; Mathias's mistress, Rhea, who is in our dungeon; and the Doomsday Diary."

The dungeon? Then again, if this Rhea was Mathias's mistress, she didn't need to be with her master, wreaking havoc.

Felicia winced. "Will I have any effect on your dungeon? If I undo magic or--"

"No, she's far down, and the cell should hold her without problem."

She sighed with relief, then realized that Sabelle and the rest of these women had their hands full. Her requests would only take the witch from her duty. "I'll leave you to it."

In the background, the other women continued packing books and papers into boxes. Sabelle stepped closer. "Though I can't read your mind, your expression is easy to decipher. Tell me what's troubling you. I'll help however I can."

"I hate to interrupt you ..." Felicia glanced at all the women working.

"You're not."

She bit her lip. "I'll be brief. Can we talk somewhere quiet?" Private.

"Felicia and I will return," Sabelle called to the others. "If you're not certain of something, set it aside."

With nods and murmurs, the other women carried on, and Felicia followed Sabelle to the kitchen. They sat at a big wooden table carved with modern lines and a glossy polish. No way could they pack this. Would they simply leave it behind, along with everything else she'd seen here? Did they live in constant danger, looking over their shoulders?

Sabelle pulled out a chair, and Felicia did the same. "Coffee?"

"No thanks." Felicia clasped her hands. "I know you don't have a lot of time, so I won't waste it. Bram says that Hurstgrove's signature didn't change much after our mating."

The witch shook her head. "Sorry."

"But Shock said it would. He didn't lie ... unless that's merely the truth as he believed it." Felicia sighed.

"I can't say. I can read Shock's mind only when he allows it. His gift in that area is far greater than any I've encountered."

"I see." But Felicia didn't like it. "Bram suggested that my ancestor changed her imprint on her mate's signature because they were not only mated but ... um, intimate."

"You and Duke haven't been, and you're asking my opinion?"

Felicia paused. "I know it's mad. I don't know you well, and you'll likely side with your brother."

"Well ..." Sabelle smiled. "You know I can't lie to you."

Despite the difficult situation, Felicia returned the grin. "No one can."

"Nor can I answer your question. This is uncharted territory, since none of us have met an Untouchable. Recently, Raiden and Tabitha, his encinta--that's the witch carrying his child--found the Untouchable family tree. The last name on it had been erased. But the date and location fit you. I popped over to Newham General Hospital for a bit. With a little magical persuasion, they confirmed what I suspected. You are of the bloodline."

That wasn't good news. Nor was it unexpected.

"Tabitha actually visited you on the night of your birth. I don't know if this helps you, but ... your parents didn't give you up because they didn't love you. They knew you were destined to be in danger and they wanted to give you a chance at a normal life."

Felicia told herself that didn't matter right now. But hearing that they'd given her up to help her, not abandon her, hit her square in the chest.

"Are they ... ?"

"Gone. Your mother lived a mere two days after your birth, then died of a fever.

After your adoption, your father disappeared. He returned to London less than a month ago and passed away. Perhaps he was looking for you. I don't know."

Now, Felicia never would either. Grief ripped through her. Her father had been alive mere weeks ago. Had someone painted a target on her birth father's back because of her? For his sake, she hoped he'd died in peace.