Pain, alternating waves of it, emitting from what she’d first interpreted to be a mound of filthy straw. A naked young man lay against the far wall as though dead, his limbs sprawled, but his ribs rose and fell rhythmically. Now, she identified the energy as familiar—this was, or rather, had been, the Trog guard. And her fogged memory supplied—he’d also been a Dire when he’d come through the gate.
How was that possible? Her brain coughed up the answer—he had to be a Morph. She’d heard of them, but never met one. They were so uncommon that many considered them a myth. But the crystal in her blood confirmed he was the same individual who’d tried to protect her in the display room.
Even unresponsive as he was, his presence soothed her claustrophobic panic. Aria moved to crouch near him. His skin was darker than her own, and his black hair stood erect, exposing an ear that came to a definite point. It gave him an appealing, elfish air, like forest-spirit from a fantasy novel. He wasn’t emaciated but very slender, the muscles hugging close to his frame. Her gaze traced the intricate patterns of black markings over the skin of his temples, down his neck and back, running alongside a series of stiffened hairs that trailed along his spine.
Most Dragon shifters loved tattoos, but these spots looked natural to her. Her heart twisted at the circle of smooth silver metal around his throat. A collar, just like her own.
Aria inhaled his scent—it was overwhelmingly masculine, musky like a shifter but with overtones of something she couldn’t identify. It struck straight through to her core, and her heart leaped. She was seized by the irrational urge to run her fingers over the smooth skin... and those hairs. So unique. Sotempting. She reached out to him, but instead of touching his shoulder, she brushed curious fingers along the stiffened spine hairs.
In one smooth, rapid-fire motion he launched himself away from her. He came to a rest crouched against the side wall, his eyes huge in his narrow face, the irises jet-black ringed with brilliant green. With his lips pulled back to expose long canines, he looked like a wild creature. All the short hairs on her neck stood on end, but what zinged through her wasn’t dismay or fear—it was more akin to the adrenaline rush she felt before a battle. Only her knees were curiously weak, and her heart pounded. Those eyes pierced straight through to her soul. Riveting. She couldn’t look away.
Her breath hitched. With every cell in her body tingling, Aria put her hands up, palms outward.
She spoke in Formal. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”
He didn’t move or speak, but his gaze broke from hers to scan the room. Lightning quick, and then back to her.
Did he not understand her? Most realm travelers understood Formal. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she tried again.
His eyes flared green. “It’s okay. You didn’t scare me.” It came out as a whisper, and he cleared his throat. “I just—I have a thing about being touched.”
It was Formal, but the pronunciation of some words was a bit off. His voice, however, suited the rest of him—a smooth tenor. But before she could comment, he added, “Did Demeti put us here?”
“I guess so. Where are you from?”
His eyes flared again. Shifter eyes often reflected their moods, but his were rimmed with such a brilliant green. Mesmerizing.
But also wary. He hesitated, before answering. “I live in the human realm.”
Ah. Many languages across the realms had been developed from Formal. The different inflections he placed on certain words must be due to where he spent most of his time. She sighed and glanced up at the stone walls. “Don’t know what realm we are in.”
His incredible eyes scanned her face. “What do you remember?”
Aria looked away from him. “It isn’t very clear.” She rubbed her aching head. “I remember being in the display room. The Torshin killing Xolto and Udo.” She shot him a glare. “Trying to get to my tail spike—only you tackled me.”
His dark brows lowered. “I was trying to save you.”
“I didn’t need saving. If I’d got to my spike, things might have gone differently.”
One brow twitched upward. “A weapon isn’t much good unless you know how to use it.” He stared at her. “You kicked free from me pretty damned easily.”
She snorted a laugh. “I’m a trained mercenary.”
Aria witnessed his rapid reassessment of her status with grim approval, although considering how things had played out, she didn’t blame him for his doubt. Then his eyes drifted to her collar. “From what Udo said, I knew you weren’t a concubine. But if you’re a bodyguard, how the hell did he get that on you?”
Aria’s face flushed. “Udo tricked me.” When both of his brows rose, Aria’s temper snapped. “I would have had things in hand if you hadn’t interfered.”
He glanced around them. “Yeah. If it’s any help, if I could turn back time, I might have chosen differently.”
Aria turned away before he could detect how the comment stung. She gestured to the surrounding walls. “I have no memory of coming through the gate.”
He gusted a sigh. “He gated us straight to a building.” When she glanced back, he’d converted his crouch to a sit with his legs drawn up, and rested his arms on his knees. “I suspect we are underneath it.”
So she hadn’t imagined the gate. Aria couldn’t suppress a shudder at the thought of all the weight hanging above them. “Yeah.” She focused her mind away from it. “My name is Aria.”
The hypnotic eyes fastened on her, and her heart accelerated. “Mine is Lucas.”
Aria took a deep breath to steady her heart. Why was she reacting so strongly to him? “Why were you in the display room? You were disguised as a Trog?”
