Desdemona stared down at the field in confused dismay. Titus had left her yet again, and from what little she remembered about their previous life, she knew that it was a common occurrence. But Kyran was here now, running out onto the field in his black uniform and helmet. The idea of vampires and dragons playing a game of football against each other should have seemed completely absurd, and it would have been two years ago. But now, she was sitting in the nicest seat in the house watching bands of immortals face each other on a football field. The mortals in the seats surrounding the stadium cheered as the players took their positions.

Desdemona’s heart slammed in her chest as she watched the two men who held her heart in their hands face off against each other. Deep in her subconscious, she knew that she wanted Titus and had always wanted him. Even the two thousand years of constant reincarnation and her lack of solid memories could not erase the longing she’d felt for him all those many years ago. It was still raw and unsatisfied.

Her raw dissatisfaction with Titus piqued her previous connection to Kyran, the vampire she knew had been her friend. From what little she could remember, he had been good to her. He had supported her when Titus rejected her. He had offered her the rose she craved so deeply. But there was still so much that was foggy. She’d been unwilling to hear the truth about the past from anyone, Bridget or Titus. Now she was still stuck with so many questions.

And now all she wanted was answers.

The whistle blew and the teams charged at each other, bodies crushing and cracking under the force of immortal strength. Desdemona’s view gave her intimate details of the game. As the teams went through their plays, she could see the expressions on their faces up close and personal. Titus was playing quarterback against Kyran, quarterback for the Blackrose. Both men were strong and fast and capable. The vampires were slightly faster and more agile in their human form than the dragons but the dragons retained the strength and brute force of their dragon form even as humans.

Even without the shift, vampires and dragons were almost equally matched. According to the rules of the game, each dragon could shift once per game without penalty. She had seen several shifts so far that had saved plays for the Silverdrake team. But the score was tied up and the Blackrose had possession of the ball. Kyran called the play and tossed the ball through his legs to his receiver. He began to run toward the Blackrose goal, ready to catch the ball.

As the football flew through the air and Kyran ran on his agile legs, Titus came barreling across the field toward him. He was a five-thousand-year-old immortal and quick and agile as anyone. His strength was unsurpassed in the clan and that was why he had been made Alpha. He slammed brutally into Kyran just as the ball fell into the vampire’s arms. The ball went tumbling, still in play as Titus tackled Kyran to the ground.

The referee’s whistle blew and play was called. The Silverdrake clan regained possession and the players met again on the seventy-five-yard line. Desdemona had never been a huge sports fan, but watching the two men who she had shared so much with in the past fight each other on the field in front of her sent to a deep thrill of awakening through her body. It was as if every sense of herself as a woman and as a biological being were being teased at the sight of these two men fighting each other. Fighting over her.

The realization that she enjoyed it flitted through her mind, and she pushed it away. She didn’t want to be the type of girl who liked watching them fight over her, but Titus’s disconnected attitude irritated her beyond reason. There was something deep inside her that just wanted to get back at him, that wanted to hurt him for how he had hurt her. And the worst part was, she didn’t fully remember why.

But her anger and need for revenge felt almost compulsive. Titus had done something to her that had hurt her so deeply that it stayed in her mind and soul for two thousand years of reincarnations. If he was able to hurt her so deeply, she must really love him. Was that really what that meant?

She knew it did. Deep in the recesses of her subconscious, she’d known it from the second she laid eyes on him at the new temple. Regardless of his abrasiveness or his dismissiveness toward her, she knew she had a deep longing and attachment for this man that would never die. His attitude only made it worse.

He had taken her from the temple to be his bride, but nevertheless she felt as if he did not care for her. And he had never said a single thing to make her think otherwise. All of his words about trying to protect her only sounded like excuses. If Desdemona was going to be used as some kind of broodmare, at least she could be loved for it. And she didn’t believe Titus would ever love her.

She knew however that Kyran would. She could still remember the day he’d given her the rose, and Titus giving her a rose soon after. She could remember her anger at receiving Titus’s rose. She’d told them both she would choose neither.

When an immortal claimed his mate, no other immortals could touch her. Titus had not claimed her yet, which meant other immortals could still win her hand, and Titus could do nothing about it.

When the game finally ended, it was the Silverdrake clan up by only a few points, Titus making the final play just as the clock ran out.

The fans went wild in the bleachers, jumping to their feet to cheer for their immortal leader. Everyone was so happy and impressed with Titus that Desdemona began to grow nervous. She’d been sitting in the VIP suite watching the game, contemplating how she might play the two men off each other, even though she couldn’t quite admit that to herself.

When she watched the team lift Titus up on their shoulders and carry him around the field in celebration, she was confronted by her own selfishness and shame. Maybe she needed to give Titus a chance. She hadn’t exactly been the sweetest girl since arriving in St. Louis. She knew it was true. No matter how justified she felt in her actions.

The door to the VIP suite swung open and Ajax and several other young immortals from the Silverdrake clan pushed inside, followed closely by Kyran and his Blackrose entourage. Desdemona shot to her feet from the couch with her mouth open in shock as the men went to the bar and began pouring themselves drinks.

“You don’t mind if we use the suite for the after-game party, do you?” Ajax asked.

“Where is Titus? Why isn’t he here?”

“I never gave you permission to use the suite,” Titus said, coming through the door.

He had changed out of his uniform and into street clothes like the other players. He was wearing dark jeans and a red sweater that hugged the firm musculature of his body. Titus crossed the room and stood between Desdemona and Kyran. The vampire was at the bar with Ajax. He held a glass of top shelf vodka and slowly brought it to his lips, his eyes never leaving Desdemona for a second.

She felt Kyran’s eyes burn into her and sweep across the rise of her chest. She was flushed with arousal and shame. In her scattered memories of the past, she always felt that Kyran cared for her. He’d been her friend and confidant. Mostly, she told him about her disappointment in Titus. The memories started to flood back as Kyran gulped down his vodka and slammed his glass on the bar. He strode across the room toward Desdemona where she stood behind Titus.

“Patrice?” he said hesitantly. “Is that you?”

“That’s what they called me two thousand years ago,” she said breathlessly.

Her heart so wildly slammed in her ears it deafened her from her own thoughts.

“What are you doing here?”

“Desdemona is my betrothed,” Titus said.

“Betrothed?” Kyran asked. “You haven’t claimed her yet?”

“I’ve only just arrived,” Desdemona croaked.

“If you were my mate, I wouldn’t wait to claim you,” Kyran said.

“Things never change, do they?” Titus said in a tight voice.

“Relax, Titus, you should celebrate your victory.”

Titus growled at Kyran, and Desdemona bristled with anxiety. She could feel the heat of the men’s competition radiating between them and she stepped away, not wanting to get in the middle of it. Her previous fantasies about having two men fight over her went right out the window when confronted with the reality of it. She didn’t want them to fight over her. She didn’t want them to fight at all. In fact, she wished that they would both leave her alone.

“I think I’ll get a drink,” Desdemona said, sidestepping around Titus and the edge of the couch to make her way to the bar where Ajax was playing bartender for the immortal players who had gathered in the VIP room.

“What’ll you have?” Ajax asked her.

“Could you pour me another glass of champagne?” she asked.

As a nineteen-year-old who’d been living on a rustic compound and then a witch school, Desdemona did not have the greatest tolerance for alcohol. She was already beginning to feel a little tipsy from the two glasses she’d already had. But with the two men who had fought over her in her previous lifetime, standing in the same room, staring each other down, she thought that maybe now was a good time to work on her tolerance level. If worse came to worst, at least she’d get a little drunk.

Ajax poured her another glass of champagne and set it on the bar in front of her. She thanked him and slowly brought the flute to her lips.

“What are you going to do about that?” Ajax asked her, nodding toward Titus and Kyran as they stared each other down across the back of the couch.

“What can I do about it?” she asked, gulping down more of her champagne.

“You can do what you agreed to and allow my uncle to claim you. None of us can afford a witch getting between immortal allies right now. As much as I feel for your plight, Desdemona, you have to accept your responsibility for the future of our world.”

“I have to accept responsibility for the future of the world? Nice. What about everyone else?”

“Everyone else? We are all doing our part. For example, today, I put together a football game to entertain all the humans living in the city. Something like that is incredible for morale. People are going to be buzzed for weeks to come, all thanks to me. But you? You are just playing the leaders of two of the strongest clans against each other. That is not very helpful.”

“Unlike you,” she said with a smirk, “I’ve been dying repeatedly for the past two thousand years. Honestly, the future of this world doesn’t seem like it’s my responsibility.”

“You know what? You and my uncle have much more in common than you realize.”

“Titus and I have exactly nothing in common” she said.

“Except the fact that you’re both little bitches,” Ajax said, lifting a pint of beer to his smiling lips.

“Great. Just great,” she said taking her champagne glass and walking away from the bar.

She did not need that kind of abuse from Ajax. She didn’t need it from anyone. Her world had been turned upside down repeatedly and now everyone was asking too much from her. They wanted things from her that she was not willing to give, and it wasn’t fair.

Just because everyone told her she had all these responsibilities did not mean she was willing to take them. If she could snap her fingers and go back to a time before the Dark Sun, she would do it in a heartbeat. She wanted to forget all the trauma and heartache and death.

The drama of her past life was still just a dream. Her memories of before the veil were fragmented and fuzzy. Yet it was something she was expected to base the foundation of her reality upon today. She refused to do it. If Ajax thought she was a little bitch and if Titus thought she was a little brat, she didn’t care. Neither of them understood how difficult this was for her and neither of them seemed to care. Because of that, she didn’t care what happened to them, or to their world.