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O utside, the sun was setting. A hazy winter light slanted through the blinds, gilding Adric’s skin a warm gold.

Rosana ran her hands down his rock-hard torso. Learning the shape of his muscles, absorbing the heat of his skin.

She hadn’t lied to him. It wasn’t worth it—it would make her sick, and besides, he’d scent the lie.

But she hadn’t told him the whole truth, either. Because yeah, it was time.

Not time for them—she’d never Seen whether they’d eventually end up mates.

That would be a glimpse into her own future as well as his, and she was as blind as anyone when it came to Seeing her own future.

Still, you didn’t have to be a Seer to guess that Adric was preparing to move against Langdon, and she didn’t have another way of keeping him close.

She traced her fingers up and down his forearm. The hair covering it was soft, barely visible, the skin beneath warm. Deus , it felt good to touch someone, be touched back.

“I need you.” She swallowed. “So bad.”

But you need me, too. That’s what I have to show you.

She hadn’t Seen that, but her gut told her she was right, and Colm, the Irish Seer who was training her, had told her to trust her hunches. According to her Sight, Adric intended to assassinate Langdon, but instead, he’d be captured and executed.

She had to do something .

“Good.” His smile was relieved—and a little devilish. “I like you all hot and needy.” He cupped her breasts, squeezing and caressing.

Her breath hitched. She placed her hands over his and set her worries aside for the time being. These sensations were too new, too wonderful to ignore.

“More.” She rubbed her breasts sensuously against his big palms. His hands were hard, calloused, with a couple of healing cuts. What did the Baltimore alpha do that gave him a laborer’s hands?

“Like this?” He rolled her nipples between his thumbs. An electric pleasure stabbed to her womb.

“Yes…” She gripped his wrists. His eyes were dark with desire, his handsome face intent. Her core clenched. A hot, needful yearning slid through her veins. She wanted him so much it hurt.

Why you?

They’d met for the first time at Dion and Cleia’s mate ball.

To a teenager who’d grown up in Rock Run’s rough-hewn, dimly lit caverns, the ball had been something out of a storybook.

Outdoors on a bright summer day in two massive white tents overflowing with flowers, one tent for dancing, the other for dining.

All seven of the sun fae clans had been present, their long, inhumanly perfect bodies clad in the finest fae couture, their hair all the fiery shades of sunshine: gold, silver, copper.

One-of-a-kind jewels glittered in their ears and around their wrists and throats.

Rosana had been dancing with a tall blond sun fae when her nape had prickled. She’d glanced around, and there was Adric, lean and unsmiling and gorgeous in a colorful African-style tunic. Standing at the edge of the dance floor with his sister and watching her with a feline intensity.

Arousal had shivered over her skin, the first ever in her life. At sixteen, she was barely adolescent; a fada’s life was measured in centuries. Too young to be thinking of love or finding a mate.

He’d sauntered across the polished wood floor, a cat on the prowl, and asked her to dance. She almost said no. His scent and quartz marked him as an earth fada, and she suspected he was just trying to piss off the Rock Run males.

Then he’d introduced himself, and she’d realized he was the new Baltimore alpha. The man who’d already managed to make an enemy of both Dion and Tiago.

“Well?” His expression was challenging.

A spark flashed between them—and she found herself saying yes.

He’d been polite, respectful, careful not to pull her too close, his hands light on her shoulder and waist. But for those few minutes, her nerves had tingled with excitement, her heart drumming crazily in her chest.

The moment the music stopped, two Rock Run men stepped in and suggested in hard voices that Adric find someone else to dance with. He’d left soon after.

Since then, she’d only seen him once a year or so. She’d told herself she wasn’t interested, especially when she’d heard a group of warriors laughing a little enviously about what a horny dog the Baltimore alpha was. The man had a different woman every other week.

But the heat was always there, simmering between them.

Until Adric had changed the game. Stealing kisses whenever he had the chance. Making her want him. Daring her to come to him, when they both knew Dion would take it as a personal betrayal. And Adric didn’t help. He seemed to take a special glee in seeing how far he could push Dion.

Well, she’d taken Adric’s dare, and if it pissed off her brother, she’d just have to accept it. This wasn’t some reckless, juvenile rebellion.

Adric was her mate, even if she’d resisted admitting it. How could he ever claim her? Their two clans barely tolerated each other. Mate with him, and the balance might tip, setting off a war or a series of challenges.

Hot tears stung her eyes. She inhaled, blinked them away.

Adric rubbed a thumb under her eye, confused and concerned. “You’re crying?”

Her heart turned over. It was the uncertainty that got her. She guessed he didn’t let many people see him looking anything but controlled, in charge.

She lifted a shoulder, let it drop. “It’s just…so much.” Which was the truth.

“Too much?” He curled up to cup her face, his gaze searching hers. “Just say the word and I’ll stop. You want to go home?”

“No!” She clutched his shoulders. “I want this. So much.”

He brushed his lips over hers, slow and sweet. “You sure?”

She gave a vigorous nod.

“Okay, then.” His mouth nudged hers open, deepening the kiss. His tongue touched inside, teasing her, taking her deeper step by step until she was making low sounds of arousal in her throat.

He ended the kiss and lay back down, looking up at her with heated eyes while his hands played over her body, toying with her nipples, shaping her waist, her hips.

Between their bodies, his cock pressed against her sex without entering her.

She reached down and adjusted it so she could slide back and forth on its slick length.

His breath hissed in.

She felt an unfamiliar, very feminine sense of power. At least she wasn’t alone in this neediness.

Setting her fingertips on his abdomen, she undulated her hips, pleasuring them both. He caught her hair in his hand, tugged her head back.

Craving contracted her womb, hot and liquid. “Adric.”

“Ric.” He rose up to kiss the side of her neck. “My friends call me Ric.”

“Ric,” she obediently repeated.

A sexy growl against her throat. “Lift up a little.”

When she obeyed, he wet his thumb in her juices and then swirled it around her clit. The work-roughened pad made her suck in a breath. It aroused, and yet hurt.

And then the two mixed together, and she moaned.

His smile was feral, sharp-toothed. “That’s it. Come for me, love.”

He used the hand in her hair to control her, keeping her body stretched taut, her pussy rubbing against the edge of his erection, that erotically rough thumb on her clit. She had her own hands on her breasts now, both soothing her own ache and seducing him with an age-old instinct.

He muttered something dark and gave her hair a firm tug. Sensation rocketed down her spine.

“Come for me.” A soft command.

She inhaled raggedly. He rolled her clit between his thumb and finger and the pleasure exploded through her. She moaned and let it take her, riding the waves as they crashed through her, over her, lifting her up and stealing her breath until she was wrung out and gasping.

She let out a slow exhale and hung over him, limp and satiated.

“Beautiful.” He curled his hand around her nape, drew her close for a hard kiss.

Between their bodies, his erection pulsed. She slid a hand down to caress him.

His eyes sparked hotly into hers, but he set a hand on her wrist. “You’re not too sore?”

Her heart constricted. He was being so considerate, even though he was hard as steel, his erection pulsating beneath her fingers.

“A little,” she admitted, her gaze on his cock. It was smooth and a little sticky from her juices. She ran a thumb over the wide, flushed head, and he groaned.

But he continued, “If it’s too much, we don’t—”

She curved her fingers around him and squeezed, halting him in mid-sentence. “I’m fine,” she said, and lifted off him long enough to grab one of the little blue packets. She ripped it open with her teeth and worked the condom down over him.

When she was done, he lifted her by the hips so she was poised over him, and then paused. “You do it. Take me inside you.”

Setting her hands on his chest, she eased herself down. He slipped inside and she stilled. “It feels…different.” She slid down the rest of the way, and then sucked in a breath as he touched deep inside, where she still throbbed. “Deeper.”

“Good,” he said hoarsely as he grasped her hips and started to move. “It feels…good. So fucking good.”

“ Sim …” She slipped into Portuguese without realizing it. Telling him how beautiful he was, how good he made her feel.

She skated her palms over his chest. His skin was heated, a little sweaty. She fingered his nipples, and his breath hitched.

She leaned down to rub her breasts over his chest. The wiry hair abraded the sensitive tips. Electricity jolted through her.

She closed her eyes, drinking it in.

This. She hungered for this.

Not just the pleasure, but the closeness. She’d been so starved for touch.

Wonder filled her, a wonder touched with sorrow. How could she have found this beautiful, aching closeness only to let it go? Let him go?

She slid her arms beneath his hard shoulders, set her face against his.

Mine , she thought fiercely.

She would save him. And then somehow, she’d force both their clans to accept them as mates.

At that moment, it seemed not just possible, but inevitable.

He moved her so her breasts were over his face and latched his mouth onto her nipple. A single hard suck and she was lost, sobbing out his name.

“Take it.” He thrust inside her, firm and deep. Moved his mouth to her other nipple to suck that, too.

Mine , she thought with each hard stroke. Mine, mine, mine.

Her blood heated, flushing her face, pounding in her ears. She dug her nails into his shoulders and with a helpless sigh, shot over the edge.

He released her nipple to capture her mouth. Devouring her while he thrust into her, over and over, until he pushed up hard in her and stilled. Tearing his mouth from hers, he buried his face in her hair.

“Rosana,” he growled against her ear, and came.