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Another pang of homesickness hit me. Many aspects of this place reminded me of Abyssos.

This entire time I’d been counting on going through the portal, talking with the primus, and figuring out a way for me to fulfill all my oaths.

That no longer appeared to be a possibility. Not now that my people had slaughtered an entire village, a village that likely contained more people than our entire population. Not now that they were taking the threat of Asher—and me—this seriously.

I’d hoped that the primus would understand, but those lifted memories of mine and his most recent orders left me angry, confused. I had admired the man; I didn’t know what to think of him now.

Ahead of me I heard Asher whistle from inside the house.

And then there was Jame Asher. An enemy-turned-ally. But Grandmaddox had been right. He was more than that to me.

A lot more.

He might have regretted the kiss, but I didn’t.

I followed him into the house, my eyes going wide as I took in the high ceiling and the carved wooden beams that held it up. A wrought iron chandelier hung in the spacious living room, and a staircase wrapped around the side of the room.

Asher was watching me avidly. The intensity of his stare made my cheeks flush.

He prowled toward me slowly, and Mother above, I couldn’t figure out whether that was anger or longing that sharpened his features. I backed up against a side table, jostling a lamp that sat on it.

Asher didn’t stop until he was nearly touching me. He braced a hand on either side of the table, caging me in. I looked up and up at him. His shoulders were impossibly broad, thick bans of muscle curving around them.

This close I could see the golden tan of his skin and a couple faint freckles that dotted his straight nose. That strong jaw, those serious eyes. I felt like prey beneath his stare.

He dipped his head, a lock of his hair sliding in front of his brow.

“We need a drink, and then we need to talk.”

Asher pulled thecork out of the wine bottle, his arm muscles bunching as he did so, his hair sliding in front of his face.

My mouth went dry.

He glanced up from his work, catching me staring at him like he was my next meal. Very un-Infernari of me.

My cheeks heated again. Even my hair swayed around my shoulders as though it were flustered.

Asher took it all in, his face giving away nothing. He turned his back to me to pour the wine, and I sagged against the counter I’d been leaning on.

You would’ve thought I’d learned, but my damn eyes now moved to his broad, muscular back and the T-shirt that stretched over it.

Infernarididn’tdo this—lust after people. Or, rather, they only did this when they wanted to mate with the person in question.

I felt myself pale.

Gods above...

No.

Please, no.

The Book of the Lovers, one of our holiest tomes, said that the heart finds its mate first. The body follows its lead, then, lastly, the mind.

I pinched my eyes shut. Mother of gods, that was what was happening.

I didn’t want this. Icouldn’twant this. To yearn for a human... for my heart to choose him—

I breathed deeply through my nose.