Page 26 of Soulbound

"I will break you," he whispered harshly. "You ignorant, foolish pawn. I will wreck you and make you beg me for more. Who sent you?"

Pain flared in her hand—her fingernails digging into the flesh of her palm. "Who is the g-girl in the glass c-coffin?"

The lust evaporated.

Cleo collapsed against his chest, gasping hard and shaking from the brink of pleasure.

His warm humor and faint smile vanished as if they'd never been. This time he looked at her as though he finally saw the real her, and not merely a toy to play with. "Leave," he warned, "before I lose all sense of myself and break you."

"I th-think," she managed to say, "that one of us is already broken."

* * *

A flash of rose-colored silk skirts swept past. Cleo. Sebastian's gaze locked on her as the ring of dancers cut him off again. It felt like a conspiracy, but the dancers all moved too perfectly, too in rhythm. They couldn't be keeping him from getting to her. Could they?

He saw her again, her golden hair shining in the candlelight like a beacon. And everything in him went still.

Cleo was dancing.

With a stranger who looked like he wanted to devour her.

And there was a smile on her lips, one Sebastian hadn't seen for a very long time. It hit him like a punch to the throat. She didn't smile for him anymore. Not like that. Oh, she might offer a faint curve of the lips, but this was a genuinely happy smile. The kind that wrapped fingers around his heart as if to claim it.

"What's going on?" Bishop demanded, grabbing him by the arm. "We lost you."

"Cleo was separated from me by these others." He prowled the edge of the dance floor. "Someone's dancing with her. Remington told us not to get separated."

"So I did," Remington announced, materializing with Verity at his side. He paused, every muscle in his body turning to stone as he peered onto the dance floor. "It appears your wife has found Malachi Gray. Or perhaps he's found her, more to the point."

"That's Gray?" He didn't know why he was so angry.

Remington looked disgusted. "It would have to be her."

"What do you mean by that?"

Bishop and Remington exchanged a long look. Remington sighed. "I thought Verity and Cleo would be protected by their soul-bonds. Verity clearly is, but I'm sure Malachi sensed your wife walking into this garden the second she stepped foot over the boundary."

"Verity and my soul-bond is complete and accepted," Bishop muttered.

And his and Cleo's was not.

"Cleo is young, she's innocent... the perfect temptation. If she can keep her head, then we might have a chance to distract Malachi," Remington mused, watching her dance.

Like hell. He wasn't going to wait here another damned second.

"Sebastian," Remington warned, grabbing his sleeve, "One thing you need to understand is that Malachi Gray is no longer human. He sold himself a long time ago, to a mistress who takes pleasure in ruining the souls of mortals. Being in his presence will make you feel certain things; lust, violence, hunger, need. All those dark little thoughts that whisper in your ear of a night, when nobody is watching. And you mustn't—whatever you do—give in to them. Do you understand?"

Sebastian twitched a brow. "Understood."

It wouldn't be a problem.

He'd spent years denying himself.

He wasn't about to succumb now.

Turning, he slammed through the first ring of dancers, pushing and shoving them out of his way as they flocked in front of him to slow him down.

If the bastard touched her again....