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At that moment, he fell in love all over again, struggling to hide a smile at the sight of her unbidden joy.

She battled and strived to pull back on her cold mask and failed miserably, her lips twitching. ‘Sounds like you camped wild, Galician.’

‘Sounds like you haven’t laughed in a while, woman.’

They shared a swift glance packed with heat, and a frown furrowed her brow. Their undeniable attraction was beginning to confound her.

He interrupted her befuddlement. ‘You going to keep calling meThe Galician? I have a name, you know.’

She nailed him with a glare, which softened at the twitch dancing on his weathered face. ‘What is it?’

Riv gave her his alias. ‘Ribau Malone-Philban.’

She grimaced. ‘That’s a mouthful.’

‘I know. Keep it simple, call me Ribau.’

It was the closest name in pronunciation to his, and he used it often because it helped him respond like he would to his real name.

She repeated the moniker, playing with it on her tongue. ‘Ribau.’

‘What’s yours?’

Her gaze skittered around the hollow, and he guessed she was debating what to tell him, giving him a curl of her lip. ‘K’Élisa. But I’ve always been called Élisa.’

Guilt washed over him. She was being honest with him.

He, on the other hand, was hesitant to do the same.

Too much was at stake if he came clean with her too soon.

He had to find out why she’d gone missing in the first place. Only then would he reveal himself to her once he was confident she was in no danger.

He also wanted to trust her again. Even though he longed for her, the fact that she’d left him of her own volition and at the altar no less had scarred him beyond measure.

He desired her truth above all things.

He pulled into the present. ‘That’s a beautiful name. Evocative.’

Her single eye narrowed at his hoarse utterance, and he realise he’d let his one-of-a-kind rasp through. She cocked her head at him, suspicion clouded her gaze once more.

‘Is your name Ribau?’ she asked, her voice dipping into cold, dangerous territory.

He met her stare, challenging her. ‘’Tis. Who else would I be?’

One thing he’d never revealed to Élisa when they’d been together long ago was his meta-shifter abilities. Back then, he’d been unwilling to contemplate them as they’d brought up too many dark memories of his torture by the crats.

It wasn’t until after she’d disappeared that he and his fellow Riders began experimenting more with their metanoid capabilities.

So she had no reason to think it was him except for the hesitancy clouding her gaze, feeling their wild connection even while doubting herself.

She shook her head in disbelief and rose to her feet, confusion furrowing her brow.

During their earlier exchange, she’d moved closer to him. Now, as she eased away, he had to suppress the urge to reach for her and hold her tight to his chest, to ease her fears and doubts with his kisses and soothe her distress with his loving.

Fokk, he’d missed herand was playing a dangerous game to keep a lid on his feelings. While all the time wanting to reveal himself and ravish her.

Common sense told him the way forward would not be clear-cut, so he gritted his teeth and settled in for the long haul.