It had been a difficult decision.

But after Andromeda’s outburst, Kragen’s natural Dominant instincts went into overdrive. If he claimed her, none of this would matter. There would be no questions that he could not answer, and no orders that he could not give. Nothing to hide from her, and no chance that she would defy him. He would give sexual commands; she would obey. She would guide him; he would listen. They would become one. And they would both enjoy the way he disciplined her.

That was the natural order. That was what every cell in his body told him to do as she lay her demands at his feet. Throw her over his shoulder, take her up the stairs, strip away her flimsy clothing. Feel her body submit as he slid inside her, his fangs holding her in place at her neck.

But he was a warrior. He resisted. And, like any good warrior, he surveyed the field of battle. His mate was furious that he chose to protect her, and he did not understand why. But he would.

But first, he saw her with her grandmother. Her matriarch. And it became more and more clear to him how much he had already caused his mate to suffer. Being apart from her matriarch, at such a time, knowing what Kragen knew…it would bring Andromeda great pain. It already had brought her pain.

None of this was acceptable.

So Kragen had, in those moments when Andromeda had left him alone with Gramzy once again, made a decision.

“I have need of your detergent,” Kragen said. “All of it. I cannot promise to repay you.”

Gramzy had looked at him with a knowing look he was beginning to find familiar.

“Kragen, you made me feel twenty years younger,” Gramzy said. “I don’t know how long that’s going to last, but it’s priceless. Take whatever you want.”

Kragen had nodded. He had not anticipated finding a mate, and so he needed a new plan. If it didn’t work, he would come back for her before the hunger began to torment her. If it did work, she would be fine. And Kragen would find a way to give her a life without the hunger.

“Just one thing,” Gramzy had said. “What are you doing with it?”

Kragen had locked eyes with her one more time, and he’d deliberately let his guard down. Let her see how much he meant what he was about to say.

“What I have to do,” he’d said, “to protect your granddaughter.”

And then he’d left.

* * *

Kragen had put a shallow layer of psychic protection over Gramzy’s house as he’d left; it would only last as long as he was conscious, but that should be long enough. He removed his lock on the mind of Gary Borden as he walked carefully down the fragile wooden steps, and then he was gone.

Without Andromeda, it took him mere minutes to run back to the warehouse. None of the alarms he’d set had been triggered; the lair remained undetected. And he was just in time for the next injection.

First, he set about the rather simple process of distilling more of the pure triclosan from the quantity of detergent that Gramzy had given him. There was just enough left over from his old supply for what he had in mind tonight, but by tomorrow…

He’d need more if his plan were to work.

And his plan was to keep himself heavily drugged, with triclosan burning away in his veins, so that he could free Andromeda from the “tether” of their mating bond. At least until Kragen could find out if his gambit had worked. And if it failed…

Either way, if he died before the bond was consummated, her suffering would be temporary. It shamed him deeply that that might be the best he could do, but he did not let that cloud his judgment. He would face his own failures as surely as any enemy. And Andromeda would not suffer for them.

Kragen growled slightly against the pain, and injected himself with the largest dose of triclosan yet.

That should give her relief. That should allow her to live her own life with nothing more than a shadow of the hunger until Kragen could find some solution, one way or the other.

And now it was time to tend to his other responsibility.

Kragen readied the second dose, grabbed the key made out of Leonid metal from its hiding place, not caring that it singed his skin, and made his way to the basement door.

It looked like what humans called “overkill,” covered in a blockade of detritus, wrapped in Leonid metal chains and secured with a Leonid metal lock. But that was only if you didn’t know what it contained.

With studied practice, he cleared his usual path to the door, and turned the key in the lock, letting the chains fall. Then he paused, and listened. He always listened.

If there was a surprise on the other side of this door, Kragen would not survive it. That didn’t trouble him. What troubled him was how much of Earth’s population would survive it.

After several moments of silence, he hauled on the door, leaving it open just enough for him to slide through, and waited another moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

While he did, he heard the slithering chime of more Leonid chains, moving in the dark.

“Hello, brother,” Kragen said. “Time for your medicine.”

It was just as his eyes were adjusting to the dark that every single intruder alarm went off at once.

* * *

Andie was furious.

She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him to stay, and admit she was right, and then tell her what the hell was going on.

After that…she wasn’t really sure.

But she damn well wanted the ability to choose.

Gramzy said nothing as Andie stomped around the house, wondering when the mark on her breast was going to start to hurt again, or if she’d be sad if it never hurt again. She checked, as she got ready for bed—it was damn near one in the morning by this time—and it looked just like a smooth, round scar. Not like something that was living. Not like something that might glow.

She’d gone to sleep angry, wondering if her waking life had been nothing more than a daydream.

But her real dreams knew the truth.

Andie opened her eyes, and vaguely knew she was dreaming, but in another sense she knew that this was very, very real. Her mark was hot again, as though it was a signal. A beacon.

For him.

Kragen stood in front of her. Shirtless. His wound still bandaged, still hurting him. His massive muscles undulating under that mother of pearl silvery skin with every ragged breath, his molten eyes pulsing with the hunger she felt between her own legs.

Because she was naked. Completely, one hundred percent naked, with her wrists bound together up over her head, attached to a chain that was bolted to the ceiling.

She felt like she was pulled taut, tight, her body screaming for release.

When he finally stepped closer, she nearly moaned.

With a growl, Kragen placed one huge hand on her left breast, his fingers brushing the mark, which glowed for him. Andie hissed as it began to smoke, burning itself further into her skin, and then she gasped as the pain blossomed into pleasure.

Kragen inhaled deeply as his own mark burned bright. He moved his hand suddenly, squeezing her breast with enough pressure to tear a groan from her throat, toying with the nipple, watching her writhe in pain, pleasure, and satisfaction. She couldn’t look away from his eyes, and she knew, in that moment, her body really did belong to him.

It would do whatever he commanded.

With a low rumble, he released her breast and threaded his hand through her hair, his huge palm cupping the back of her head, and he tilted her back until she had no choice but to look into his eyes.

And there she saw the pain. The pain they both felt. Deadened in her, alive in him. She didn’t understand it. But she knew it was there.

Kragen kept hold of her hair with one hand, and with the other he lifted her leg, exposing her wet sex and forcing her to balance on her toes, her eyes pinned by his. He held her that way until she begged for him.

He bent his head and sank his fangs into her neck as he drove fully into her, and Andie woke up in the middle of the most powerful orgasm of her entire life.

Andie collapsed back down onto her bed in a boneless heap, her body still shuddering and twitching, her chest covered in a thin glisten of sweat. She blinked up at the ceiling, gasping for breath, her fingers twisting up in sweaty sheets.

What the hell was that?

It hadn’t felt like a dream. It had felt like him.

Almost fearfully, Andie raised her hand to her chest, her brain coolly noting that her fingers were still shaking, and she felt for the mark above her left breast.

It was hot.

She could smell a vague smell of singed flesh, and it got her out of bed, pulling her tank top down to see for herself.

It looked just the same, except with added glow-in-the-dark properties.

It had been real. Sort of.

So what did that mean?

Andie paced, running her hands through her hair, trying not to freak out. When she stopped and closed her eyes, she could almost feel the bond, still warm inside her, still pulsing, only…dull. Deadened. Like someone had turned the volume down, and now the result was this weird in-between arousal, and a profound feeling of wrongness. Like she wasn’t fully herself. Like some part of herself…

Was gone.

“I hate it,” she said aloud to no one at all.

This was like what it had felt like when she suddenly found she could leave the warehouse, only much more intense. Like a deep, aching absence, where before it had been like a weight lifting.

With a flash, Andie understood what Kragen had done. It was the only thing that made sense. Before, being separated by too much, for too long, had made her sick, made her fall to her knees. Now? It had been hours, who knew how far away Kragen was, and there was just this…painless pit.

He had taken more of that triclosan.

And it had hurt him to take it. How much did he have to take to counteract this much distance? What was he doing to himself?

No wonder she’d seen pain in his eyes.

“The dumb Dom,” she muttered.

Andie had no idea what to do. Every time she closed her eyes, she was aware of that absence. That tug on her heart.

And then she thought about what Gramzy said: Do you trust your own heart?

She remembered, first, how she felt looking into Kragen’s eyes, wrapped in his arms. And she remembered that freaking basement.

“Ok, I don’t know if I trust my own heart yet,” she said, “but I want to find out.”

Whatever this burden was, it wasn’t one that Kragen should bear alone. She had a choice too. And they were, for the moment, a team of sorts. He’d already saved her life once, anyway. She wasn’t about to welch on that.

She was raised better.

Andie was packed in less than five minutes, throwing the barest of supplies into a duffel, leaving a note for Gramzy, and texting Kat.

There was only one thing left to do. Follow the tug on her heart.