Page 32

“Nay. He only just arrived a short time ago. We’ve had two encounters, and neither produced such a reaction.” Rihanna cradled his head in her lap, rocking him slowly. “Do you suppose…?”

“Difficult to say,chroi. Reuniting with a deceasedanam caraisn’t common, nor is it a recorded phenomenon. At least that I know of. I’ll be sure to research it. Liam might be of aid.” The man’s deep voice lowered as he gripped Bryce’s shoulder. A surge of heat rushed into him, burning away the confusion, shattering the visions and memories until all that was left was Rihanna’s face peering down at him, her eyes glistening, forehead creased with anxiety, her hair a black, shimmering cape enclosing his head. Her hand molded against his cheek, her thumb running back and forth as he blinked. “Let me speak with Horano about a charm or talisman for him until we understand what happened.”

“Where did you go?” Bryce asked, surprised by how hoarse he sounded.

The smile that came to her mouth was filled with relief. “To fetch my brother. How do you feel?”

He reached up and traced her brow. “I no longer feel like I’m in some twisted vortex. But this really wasn’t my plan when I came by.”

He groaned as he tried to sit up. Two sets of hands helped him, but only Rihanna’s tender touch remained once he was balanced. After a few deep breaths, he twisted around and came face-to-face with the man from the club whose essence alone could fill a large room and demand everyone’s attention, maybe even demand them to kneel. He and Rihanna shared many similarities, most notably their uncanny beauty and sharp features, but the man’s face held a lethal edge that Rihanna’s softer curves did not.

This was not a man he’d want as an enemy.

“I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name,” Bryce admitted.

“Shaye,” Rihanna’s brother reminded. His mercurial eyes held a rainbow of colors that could easily hypnotize an unsuspecting victim, Bryce supposed. They were the strangest eyes he’d ever seen. The man nodded toward Rihanna. “Many years have passed since I’ve last witnessed my sister in a panic. How are you fairing?”

Bryce pinched his forehead briefly, then nodded. “I don’t know what happened. I’ve never experienced vertigo before.”

“I suspect it has something to do with your past and not a medical condition, if that’s any consolation.” Shaye tented his fingers between his knees, never blinking as he watched Bryce. “Fortunately, you appear well now.” To Rihanna, he added, “I’ll send Horano to assess him and try to forge a talisman he can use until I can speak with Liam.”

“Do you believe he’ll be well until then?” Rihanna asked.

Bryce glanced down to where she clasped his hand between her own. Did she realize she clung to him? Did she realize she portrayed herself exactly like the Rihanna from his dreams?

Bryce’s brow furrowed. He looked up at the man sitting on his haunches, eyes watching them without missing a single detail. The ghost of a grin tugged at his mouth, preceded by the distinguished lift of his chin.

“You said something about a bond,” Bryce said. When Shaye didn’t react, he added, “You think this might have something to do with the past.” He flipped his hand up, showing the man his birthmark. “With this. She has a similar mark.”

Shaye’s brows lifted. His gaze flicked to Rihanna before falling back to Bryce. “I’m not at liberty to say, for I do not comprehend what has occurred. ’Tis intriguing that you retain your mark.”

“Brother, we’ve not discussed—”

“’Tis fine,chroi.” The corner of Shaye’s mouth quirked in something that resembled a smile, but vanished just as fast.

Bryce narrowed his attention on Rihanna. “Tell me.”

She shared a shuttered glance with her brother, who nodded. After a few seconds of playing with Bryce’s hand, she blew out a sharp breath and faced him.

“What have you seen in your dreams?” she asked.

“You.” He turned their hands over, marked palms angled together. “I’ve seen many different scenes, all of which include you. But lately, after we met at the club, the same dream plagues me every night.” He glanced at Shaye, trying to decide how much he should divulge. The man didn’t seem as overbearing about his sister now as he had six months ago. In fact, if he were to be optimistic, Shaye seemed curiously invested. “You’re sitting at a table in what must have been my cabin, peeling potatoes. We’d just made a vow to each other”—he splayed his fingers further, the mark on his palm turning pink—“and you were mulling over something you wouldn’t disclose…”

When he looked up at her, he was shocked to find her eyes misted with moisture and her lower lip and chin quivering. But it was Shaye who encouraged him to continue.

“Go on, Bryce.” He lowered to his knee and moved closer to Rihanna’s side, dropping a hand on her shoulder. “Chroi, ’tis the past.”

Pressing her lips together, she nodded, lowering her head. Shaye tipped his chin at Bryce in a signal for him to continue.

Bryce folded his fingers between Rihanna’s, giving hers a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know why you’re upset, but I don’t want to make—”

“Nay, please. Continue,” she murmured.

A single tear dropped from her face, splattering againstthe back of his hand. The warm drop damn near shattered his heart.

“Why are you upset, Rihanna?” he asked.

She sniffled and lifted her chin, a small smile across her mouth that barely reached her cheeks. “I simply wish to hear what you’ve experienced, ’tis all.”