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The cocktail party felt like a success. Lyrica looked down at her sparkling blue dress. Apparently the Kurjans enjoyed ceremony and often had such parties. She delicately sipped champagne next to Eudokia, whose mate kept a close eye on them from across the room. “Are you sure you’re happy? ” Lyrica asked.

“Yes,” Eudokia murmured, wearing a lovely red ball gown. “We didn’t have a choice in remaining out of sight and mind with the old leadership, but Vero and the king are changing things. In fact, I’m not sure you’ve noticed the lovely sweaters ma ny of us wear?”

Lyrica nodded. “I have. You knit them?”

“Yes. I’ve been asking some of the newcomers about the world out there. What do you think about us selling them to humans? Or even immortals. It could be a good moneym aker, I think.”

Lyrica coughed and swallowed champagne. “You should defin itely do that.”

Eudokia straightened. “Would you mind speaking with Vero for us? Since you signed that contract that you’v e made public.”

Lyrica glanced at the woman. “Y ou disapprove?”

“That doesn’t seem very romantic to me, and you appear to be a romantic. Or perhaps it’ll work out.” Eudokia shrugged. “Either way, we wouldn’t feel comfortable approaching our mates about the idea unless we had the permission of the king and his enforcer. Our mates have spent lifetimes protecting us, of course.”

None of this made sense. “I’d be happy to talk to the king and Vero.” She could study the market and create a good presentation. Maybe they could open an Etsy store. Or one of their own using one of the many online shopping portals. Her gaze caught on Maeve, who looked lovely in a green gown with her hair piled on her head in an intricate braid. “I’m sure your mate has protected you, but I don’t know that’s the case for everyone. Excuse me.” She moved through the crowd to reach the couple. “Good evening.”

“Evening,” Ralstad said for them both.

Then Vero stood next to her, grasping her arm. A warmth started in her chest and flowed through her entire body. She had to keep her heart out of this. “Oh, hi. Vero, you’ve met Ralstad and Maeve, have you not?”

“I have,” Vero said, nodding at Ralstad before half bowing to Maeve. “Thank you for joining us here at the main headquarters.”

“It seemed like the safest thing to do, ” Ralstad said.

Lyrica forced a smile. “I wanted to speak with Maeve about having a girls’ weekend, maybe somewhere in Seattle where we could al l go shopping.”

“No, ” Ralstad said.

Maeve placed her hand gently on her mate’s sleeve.

“I didn’t ask you,” Lyrica said. “ I asked Maeve.”

Maeve’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Ah, well, I’m grateful for the kind offer, but I’ll have to pass.”

“Excuse us.” Vero guided her toward t he dance floor.

Tingles exploded up her arm, and her abdomen performed a slow roll that heated and flashed warmth through her body. Just from the strength in his hand around hers. Even so, she’d been in the middle of a discussion, and she didn’t appreciate the high-handedness. “What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re going to dance. Kurjans love dancing, which is a closely guarded secret.” He signaled the male managing the music and instantly a slow song came across the many speakers. His arm banded around her waist and he tugged her close, his hand sti ll around hers.

She temporarily lost her voice when pulled against his heated, rock-hard body. Think. She had to concentrate. “You see what’s g oing on there?”

“I saw yo u interfering.”

Irritation heated her to her ears. “That’s what I’m talking about. Maeve has every right to do what she wants. She doesn’t have to ask her mate ’s permission.”

“Perhaps they have a contract that says otherwise,” Vero said, his t one reasonable.

Lyrica tried to remain stiff against his overwhelming heat, but her body fought her. He towered over her, forcing her to tilt her head to meet his gaze. She’d never been small and had always been a curvy girl, but he made her feel petite and oddly safe.

Amusement danced in his blue eyes, but s till, no smile.

She gathered her thoughts. “If they did enter into a contract, it was in the eighteen hundreds when women didn’t have rights. I think there’s something wrong with their relationship.”

“Define what you mean by using the word ‘wrong.’” Vero swayed her easil y to the music.

She hadn’t figured he’d be so graceful on the dance floor. In fact, all the Kurjans had surprised her. They were shockingly good at many different styles. Lyrica looked over to see Genevieve and Lukas kissin g next to them.

Vero caught her gaze, reached out, and smacked Lukas on t op of the head.

“Hey,” the kid protested, stepping back.

“Knock it off,” Vero muttered.

Flushing, Lukas turned back to hold Genevieve not quite so close.

Lyrica bit back a smile. Now, that was funny. “This seems like a good party,” she murmured. “I would like to speak with Maeve alone again. Could you arrang e that for me?”

“You’ve already spoken to her twice, cou nting tonight.”

“I know, but I read feelings of nervousness from her.” Lyrica tried to gauge the crowd one person at a time, opening herself up. Several rushes of emotion hit her instantly, and she gasped.

“Stop it,” Vero said, looki ng down at her.

She blinked. His eyes were so blu e. “Stop what?”

“You know what you’re doing. Knock it off. There are too many people here for you t o try to read.”

She blinked several times. “How did you know?”

“I can feel it,” he said, lifting one shoulder. “You send out an energy signal. And if I could feel it, I assume other p eople can too.”

Yet another facet to her gift she hadn’t realized. Why hadn’t she trusted her own instincts that she had abilities and learned to develop them long before now? “How do I stop transmitting?”

“You just need to work on it. You’re fairly new to using this power, right?”

“Yes,” she said. Her skin felt sensitized and her breasts felt heavy. Needy. Even her nipples sharpened against her plain white bra. To ignore her aching body, she focused her empathic attention directly on Maeve. Could she read the woman’s emotions from across t he entire room?

“I said to stop it,” Vero said. “You’re going to overw helm yourself.”

Her stomach began to cramp, and a headache formed at the base of her neck. He was right. Slowly, she calmed herself and brought all her senses back inside her body and head, where they belonged. “I need to know what’s g oing on there.”

“Not tonight,” he said, turning her again, his hand warm across her lower back. “Tonight, we live by the contract.”

* * * *

Vero’s room smelled like him. Foresty and male. Lyrica sat awkwardly on the bed, plucking at a loose string on the bedspread. She didn’t have anything sexy to wear. That shopping trip to Seattle really did sound like an excellent idea. Was she crazy? Most likely. But something about Vero called for her.

She didn’t know why, except he was probably the sexiest male she’d ever seen in her entire life. Plus, they had a contract. She wanted to be amused about that, but when they both signed, he had seemed very serious. Even that was sexy.

During the dance, she’d almost combusted from being close to him. What was it about Vero? For the past several months, as she’d lived in the Kurjan world, she hadn’t felt a thing for any of the immortals. Nothing. Like not even a casual interest, much less a strong desire.

Tonight for bed, she wore a white T-shirt with her yoga pants like she normally did, wishing for a sexy camiso le or negligee.

Quiet drummed around her. Vero had escorted her to his room, rather their room, before heading out to check the positions of the soldiers guarding the various areas of camp that needed surveillance, especially the female barracks, and of course, the main lodge.

She thought about how dangerous his life would always be, and for some reason that didn’t scare her. She wished she could talk to Hope, and once she received the updated computers, she would defini tely reach out.

Hope didn’t know much more about the Kurjans than Lyrica did, considering Hope had been raise d by the Realm.

Lyrica missed her. They’d become fast friends while fighting against an enemy the day Paxton became the king, and Hope had quickly become a cl ose confidante.

Her stomach turning over, Lyrica rested against the headboard and tucked a pillow more securely b ehind her back.

Should she just get naked and under the covers? She didn’t know what to do. This felt so awkward. What had she been thinking? She had almost talked herself into getting up and leaving when the door opened and Vero walked inside.

His gaze swept her, and heat flared along her every nerve ending. “I take it we’re all safe for the night?” Lyri ca asked dryly.

He nodded and kicked off his m onstrous boots.

“What size are your feet, anyway?”

“Size seventeen. Sometimes sixteen and often eighteen.” If he found her desperate attempt to start a conversation amusing, he didn’t show it.

She’d have to be careful not to trip over his footwear. She’d probably break her neck. A nervous lau gh escaped her.

“Are you all right?” Vero unzipped the perfectly hidden zipper of h is uniform top.

“I always wondered if the medals came off or stayed on.” During her time as a captive in the Kurjan nation, she’d seen many different silver medals arranged in all sorts of different orders. Not one inch of her cared to learn what any of them meant.

“They pretty much stay on.” He shrugged out of the top and strode to the closet.

Smooth, hard muscle showed in every line of his chest and down his arms. She gulped, heat pooling low in her abdomen. She had never seen a chest like that. Maybe computer enhanced on social media with the use of AI, but no t in real life.

Then he opened the closet and turned his back to her, hang ing up the top.

She failed at masking her gasp. Whip scars marred his entire muscled back, top to bottom, some quite deep and all ridged.

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes a mesmerizing, storm-tosse d blue. “What?”

“Your back,” she breathed. “I thought immortal s didn’t scar.”

“Depends on the age of the immortal and how brutal the wound.” He unbu ckled his belt.

The sound sent erotic shock waves through her system. Even so, tears pricked the back of her eyes. “You must’ve been young and the beating brutal.” Her hear t hurt for him.

“Beatings, plural. Injury upon injury can also create lasting wounds for us. We have to heal ourselves at least somewhat before being harmed again.” His tone remained flat w ith no emotion.

She felt enough for both of them. “Your uncles?”

“Affirmative.”

She didn’t feel any loss at their deaths. How horrible for him. While she didn’t have the skills yet to reliably read an immortal, she felt enough from him to know that he didn’t want sympathy.

He unzipped his pants and took them off to hang in the closet, leaving himself in blac k boxer briefs.

Wow. A lot of skin and muscle and power all shifted in front of her. “The party went well,” she said, searching for a nything to say.

“I thought so.” He turn ed to face her.

She couldn’t help but count the ridges in his abs. There wasn’t a bit of fat on the guy. Could immortals even get fat? “So you’re not shy,” she said, wishing she’d already ducked beneath the bedcovers.

His blue gaze zeroed in on her rapidly heating face. She must be blushing like a crazy woman, and the raw male appreciation in that gaze weakened her knees even as she sat. “Why would I be shy?” he asked.

Very good question. She didn’t imagine anybody who looked like that would be shy. “No reason ,” she croaked.

His eyes softened just a hint. Not enough to seem mellow or even calm, but she hoped she saw a softening. “We can just sleep tonight if you wan t,” he rumbled.

She latched onto the offer, a raft in an unforgiving sea. “That might be a good idea.” Her body tingled in absolute protest. “This is just wei rd,” she added.

“Weird? How so?” He walked around the bed and sat on the other side before lifting her up and settling her on his lap.

She’d never been cradled by a man like this before, or rather, a male. Like this. She had to stop thinking of him as human. He wasn’t anywhere close.

Her body naturally stiffened while her muscles wanted to relax right into his strength. “I guess it’s all the talking and agreeing and the contractual obligations. I mean, the other night when you kissed me, it was passionate and wild.” Why couldn’t he just sweep her away again?

“This i s more honest.”

She swallowed, fully aware of how hard he was beneath her. All of h im. Every inch.

Desire flamed through her and she tried to concentrate.

He brushed the hair back from her face, his touch oddly gentle for a giant of his size. “I thought consent and talking and agreement was wh at you wanted.”

“It is, but this just seems more like a business arrangement.” Her body did not care. N ope. Not a bit.

“This is how most matings and marriages have been arranged throughout the years,” he said softly, his fingers warm against her neck. His eyes flared an unholy blue, but his hands remained gentle. “Until very recently, everybody on the planet arranged marriages. Many humans still do, and statistically, those are known to last longer than marriages entered into with feelings.”

She couldn’t think with his warm, hard body wrapped around her. “I understand that, but passio n is good too.”

“You can’t have both?” His fingers trailed across her cheekbone and down to her jaw, the pads call used and rough.

She trembled and didn’t try to hide it.

He leaned in and brushed his lips across her other cheekbone and then her nose. “So, do I have consen t to kiss you?”

She let out an exasperated breath. “Yes.”

“What abou t intercourse?”

He was ripping the romantic side of this to pieces. “All right.” She threw her hands up. “E nough of that.”

“Enough of what?” h e asked mildly.

“We both signed the contract. You do not have to request consent for kissing or anything else. Since we pretty much have a relationship agreement, you can assume that consent is granted. You don’t have to ask ev ery damn time.”

“Interesting.” He tugged her earlobe. “You don’t want me to as k for consent?”

Was he messing with her? “I did initially. Now I don’t. We’re in a relationship, or at least we’re about to be, and you can assume that consent is given. If for some reason I’m not in the mood, I will absolutely let you know.”

“All right,” he said, his fingers wrapping around her nape and spearing up along her head to the crown. He pulled her head back easily and his m outh took hers.

There was nothing tentative about him, and he didn’t seek consent. He took what he wanted, kissing her hard and going deep, taking her out of reality.

She shut her eyelids and kissed him back. Feeling all that hard muscle and strength surrounding her, and his kiss. Oh, could he kiss.

He overwhelmed her with just his mouth and his hand cupping her head. She murmured something, having no idea what. He gently tugged her shirt up over her head, having to break the kiss briefly. The minute the cotton disappeared, he was back on her. Shifting her to straddle him before both hands tunneled into her hair and pulled her head back as he kissed her.

She didn’t know kisses could be like this. All-consuming. She moaned and shifted against him, feeling him hot and pulsing between her legs. Her yoga pants felt too tight.

He continued to kiss her, his hands moving from her head over her shoulders and down her back t o cup her butt.

Fire raced through her so quickly she for got to breathe.

He softened the kiss and stilled , leaning back.

She pressed her palms against his hard chest, marveling at the rock-cut strength there. She leaned in to kiss his chin, then caught a stillness from him. Pure alertness?

His eyes had turned a wild, chaotic blue, and yet he remained still, his chin li fting slightly.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I’m uncertain.” He lifted her off him and stood, an obvious bulge in his boxers. He reached into a drawer for a green gun and a huge, sharp blade. Much longer than any knife, it wasn’t quite a sword. “Stay here.” He stalked silently t oward the door.

She scrambled to grab her shirt and yank it over her head.

He looked out into the hallway both ways, then walked out, disappear ing from sight.

Gulping, she grabbed another gun from his nightstand and followed him, keeping her distance just in case she needed to shoot somebody. She wasn’t getting in the fight. She shrieked when a bedroom door burst open and a male smashed into Vero, careening both into the far wall. Plaster rained down and turned the hallway dusty.

The attacker, dressed in all black with even his face covered, slashed a knife down Vero’s arm. “I’m here for you, Prince. You die first…and then I’ll take out the king.”

Vero’s blood spurted across the hallway, spreading across Lyrica’s arm. The liquid burned her and she frantically tried to wipe it off on her yoga pants.

Silver flashed as the male in black struck again. “Vero ,” she yelled.