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He sent a small command to his noids to pull back because she’d discern who he was the second she scented him.

Just like he was now sure of who she was.

He let his gaze fall on her form. Lithe, muscled, hard.

She was in a close-fitting jumpsuit that flowed over muscle and sinew. She’d pulled down the top of the suit and tied the arms at her waist to reveal jacked shoulders and silken skin covered in silver tattoos.

She was magnificent.

She was alive.

And she was here, within reach.

He growled to hold back his metanoids from surging through his body.

He forced a scowl to scurry on his face and clenched his jaw to stem the gush of wantonness that threatened to churn out of him and take over his senses.

It’d take just one second of weakness to pull the walls apart and wreck the sensor shield with his bare hands.

So he’d stride to her, gather her in his clasp, and cling to her forever.

While finding out where thefokkshe’d been all these years!

His face froze in deep despair as he realise he could not reveal himself to her.

Not yet.

Chest heaving, he melded back to the wall behind him, not caring one iota about the raw-edged bolts cutting into him.

He only had eyes for her as they stared at each other.

Riv gazed across time, heartbreak, and sorrow, trying to create the illusion of casual disdain and anger at being captured. At the same time, his soul was mired in agitation.

Why, my love? Why?

His silent scream of righteous rage received no answer, and he reared up, about to surge to his feet and rush her, when he paused and slumped back.

It was what was in her hands that gave him pause.

He spotted a lethal blade, sharp enough to penetrate the energy barrier between them and sink into his chest if thrown with skill.

She turned it over as if deciding whether to let him live.

Wresting that weapon away from her would be simple.

Only if he were Riv.

Only if he were the man she’d loved way back when.

The Edenite, with dead straight silver hair that fell to his back in a long, smooth sheet with a braid to one side.

Her beloved, whose skin was pale, matching his white irised eyes, gave him the effect of a ghoul, albeit a very handsome one.

Her tall, ropey, muscled paramour, with whom she’d shared so much pleasure years ago.

Alas, what she perceived was nothing close to his true form.

Given that he was not Riv, he slumped back against the wall, reminding himself of his appearance in her eyes.