Page 49 of Kidnapped By the Beast (Beasts of the Kindred #11)

brANDT

Brandt sat at the long counter in his laboratory, staring at the neat rows of test tubes and glowing cultures arrayed before him.

For ten years, this research had been his life—his anchor—his reason to keep breathing when grief had hollowed him out.

He had built every protocol, every trial, every equation to keep from thinking about the emptiness inside him.

But now?

Now the numbers blurred. The vials looked meaningless. And everywhere he turned, he saw her.

Crossing the medical bay, he would catch a flicker of brown hair, the curve of a cheek, and his heart would lurch—Alexandra—but when he looked closer it was always someone else.

A tech…a nurse…a stranger. Once he heard a laugh—light and teasing—and he spun around so fast his neck hurt, certain she was there.

But it was only one of the younger lab assistants, looking at him in confusion as he stood frozen in the corridor.

Her scent still clung to him, sweet and warm, a torment he couldn’t shake.

It lingered on his clothes, on his hands, even in the sheets he tried to sleep on, no matter how often he changed them.

He could almost feel her still—her softness in his lap…

her breasts heavy in his hands…her mouth open on a gasp as she came for him.

But the nights were the worst—the nights were fucking unbearable.

Brandt dreamed of the curvy little human every time he closed his eyes. Sometimes she was laid out on the moss-padded table, golden nectar flowing while he drove the alien stimulator deep inside her, her sweet voice moaning and begging in a way that made his whole-body tense with need.

Other times the dream shifted, curdled, and he was back in the public square outside the Halls of Justice. Lexi was locked in the heavy wooden stocks again—but this time, when he ran toward her, he was too late. She hung limp, head bowed, her body utterly still.

Dead.

Brandt woke from those nightmares gasping, her name raw on his tongue and sweat running down his temples. He would try to get back to sleep but sleep wouldn’t come—only thoughts of her in his arms, breathing his name as he held her tight.

She’s taken me over, he thought bleakly. Alexandra has stolen my soul, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.

Not that he really wanted to. What he wanted was to go to her—to admit his love and beg her to forgive him. Which of course was the one thing he couldn’t do.

Brandt dropped his head into his hands, his eyes gritty and burning from lack of sleep. He had never felt so wretched—so torn apart—not even in the rawest days after his wife’s death. Because Lexi was alive, she was out there walking around…but she was lost to him all the same.

The only thing he could hold on to was the thin thread of knowing he would see her again at the end of the week, when she returned for her scheduled session. On Friday night, he would see her sweet face and curvy body again. He wouldn’t be able to Claim her, but at least he would see her.

Until then, he would live in torment.