He dreamed of Briana.
Laughing and running through the grass ahead of him, she coaxed him to follow, always staying one step ahead of him. Every time he thought she was within reach, she danced away, slipping through his fingers over and over.
Until she didn’t.
It didn’t matter that he couldn’t remember if he’d caught her or she’d caught him. She was there now, in his arms, her body soft and warm and fitting against him in all the right places.
All the hard-for-her places that cranked his temperature from warm to blistering, and every inch was burning for her.
He dragged her to the ground, pulling her down on top of him. Her hands slid into his hair, her mouth taking his. Teasing and light, the kiss scrambled his thoughts, offering him only a hint of the wild heat set to consume him.
He ran his hands up her hips, his hand spanning her lower back, drawing her closer still. Her soft whimper raced across his lips, and he turned to the slender column of her throat, nipping gently.
“More,” she breathed, and he licked across the pulse point thumping beneath his tongue.
Pressure built in his chest, increasingly uncomfortable, but he ignored it, rolling her beneath him. Pain hissed through him, and forced his eyes open.
Briana lay beneath him on the bed they’d fallen asleep in, watching him. The heat he’d imagined, that he swore continued to fire in every cell in his body, rolled off Briana, her skin feverish.
She was still fighting the poison from the thorns, or the venom from his bite.
Her nails raked the back of his neck. “Don’t. Don’t let me go.” She shook her head. “I need you. I’ve always needed you.” She cupped his cheek, her thumb sweeping softly.
The words slipped past every guard in place to keep her from getting a tighter hold on his heart.
He shook his head. “This isn’t you.” One look at her eyes, unfocused and sleepy, and he knew it was the fever talking.
“This is me. And you. It’s always been us.”
She coaxed him back, and he let it happen. Let his eyes slide shut, lowered his forehead to hers, breathing deep and letting her fill his senses.
“You see me. You don’t always say it, but I can read it in your eyes. My brothers love me, my friends support me, my clients respect me, but you…you see me. All the little pieces that make up the whole. You.” She opened her mouth over his. “I’ve been waiting so long,” she whispered across his lips, “for you. For my mate.”
His body went cold, the wraith so quiet Lucan felt alone in his own skin for the first time in decades. “Briana?”
“Mmmm,” sleepy and sexy, she opened her eyes.
“Who am I?”
“Mine.” The most incredible smile curved her lips, and it hurt more than he could stand because she thought he was someone else. The one she was truly meant to be with.
And he wanted it to be him. Wanted to believe he had a chance, the same way he’d believed, for just a moment, that maybe there really was a way to bring Arthur back. If he could win the games, he could save his friend and earn his freedom at the same time.
He hadn’t wanted to think about being free of Rhiannon, but at every turn he was constantly reminded how incredible it could be between him and Briana. After she’d put her faith in him, trusted that he wouldn’t hurt her in the catacombs, he could imagine fighting everyone, even Rhiannon herself, for a chance to be with Briana.
And she’d already chosen another.
The wraith snarled in frustrated denial, leaving the man and monster in perfect agreement.
He knew he should be happy for her. She deserved someone who could protect her, laugh with her, love her. And that would never be him. That didn’t stop him from wanting to be the same selfish bastard he’d been centuries ago, wanting one more night as though it wouldn’t matter.
But it would.
Rolling away from her before he could talk himself into pretending he hadn’t heard her, that she wasn’t burning up with a fever he’d caused, he sat up. He hadn’t fed from a gargoyle long enough to know how their bodies handled the venom beyond going to stone.
“Stop.”
“You can’t leave.” She grabbed his wrist.
“You need to rest.”
“Not without you.” The raw emotion in her voice stopped him from standing.
“Briana,” he began, too tired to fall back on old arguments to convince either of them why he needed to leave.
“I’ll sleep if you stay.” She tugged, and as stupid as it was, he let himself lay back down next to her.
Her eyes were already closing, her breathing evening out after she curled into him. He’d stay just another minute, make sure she was sound asleep and then he’d finish this competition, one way or another.
Briana stretched and turned into the warmth next to her. The cat pressed against her mind, purring softly. Content.
She opened her eyes, stretching again, unable to remember the last time she’d slept so well. Noticing Lucan sleeping next to her, she then recognized the room, but couldn’t remember how they’d gotten back. They’d been in the catacombs, then on the battlefield, and then…
The lines between Lucan’s eyes creased, but he didn’t stir.
He’d fed from her.
The memory of it drenched her mind in images and emotions that swirled beneath her skin, warming her from the inside out. She’d never felt anything like it, the pleasure bone-deep, marking her heart.
She was in love with him—and he still didn’t know.
Careful not to disturb him, she slipped from the bed and dressed quietly. She needed space, room to think, to breathe without feeling like the pain in her chest would crack her wide open.
Downstairs, she passed the Fae sitting near the door, his head bowed. Meditating again?
Starving, she fed her rumbling stomach, her hunger seemingly endless. Because she’d offered her blood to Lucan? Once she’d stuffed herself with cheese, meat and fruit, she walked outside.
She had no idea how long she’d been out of it, which she liked even less than knowing it was the second time the games had put her out of commission to heal.
Through the trees she spotted Nessa and the enchantress. She mentally tightened her hold on the cat, anticipating a reaction toward Seva like the last time in the training room.
Her feline half didn’t so much as raise a hackle at the enchantress doing yoga next to the pool. Her earlier possessiveness of Lucan seemed to have abated. Another side effect of what happened in the catacombs?
“I still don’t get how you guys can make people want each other,” Nessa said from the edge of the pool where she sat with her legs in the water.
Seva moved into another pose. “We can’t.”
Nessa noticed Briana walking toward them, but kept her conversation with the enchantress going. “Sorry, but I’ve got the wolf bites to prove it.”
The enchantress arched a brow. “Our magic can only heighten an attraction that already exists. The deeper the connection, the more effective the magic.”
Nessa scoffed. “So you’re telling me that even though one of your skanky sisters hit Pendragon’s with the stuff, the only people that really got it on…” she trailed off, gesturing for the enchantress to fill in the blanks.
“Already had a connection in place.”
“Not a fucking chance.” Nessa stood, snatching up a towel behind her.
Something—a spark of hope—kept Briana from denying the possibility as quickly as Nessa.
The enchantress straightened. “Rhiannon herself tried to make a deal with me once to make a human fall in love with her. If my sisters or I can’t even accommodate a goddess willing to pay the highest price, do you think we’d waste time doing it for free at a third-rate immortal bar?”