In a world where emotion can be a deadly weapon, one slight, battered runaway holds the key to a dark and twisted enigma...Drink of me, she whispers, her silver eyes trusting, pleading. What female dares speak such words to one of the Sange? His people are scorned by every race for their fierce sensuality, their fearful rituals. And as Prime, Reule is the most telepathically gifted of them all.
But nothing has prepared him for the intensity of emotion radiating from the outlander rescued by his Pack. Terrified, tormented, but beautiful beyond measure, Mystique shatters his legendary control. As she reaches for him in the steamy heat of the healing baths, he knows this blind need can have but one end...In blood, in knowledge, in ecstasy.
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Excerpt:
Sorrow.
It beat at him like a relentless drum, throbbing through his mind and vibrating into his soul until he felt it burning in his body as though it were his own. Stunned by the intensity of the intrusion, Reule actually hesitated several moments, distracting himself at the worst possible time. He felt the purity of the devastating emotion shuddering through him. Too pure, and too disturbing, Reule realized very quickly as he flung up well-practiced and powerful mental barricades, the imposing walls blotting out most of the wild despair that had stained his concentration.
Careless of him to let something like that intrude on such a crucial moment. Lines of disconcertion etched themselves into his forehead and around his mouth. The source of that unsettling intrusion was a mystery. It tempted him. But that, he realized, might very well be the point. It could be intentional bait.
Reule dismissed the idea straight away, confident he could tell the difference between deception and honesty, and while he’d never felt such a scope of sadness before in his life, it had been brutally honest. Pushing it all away to focus back on his goal of the moment, he lifted his head and sought the scents of the others, marking their positions in silence as they kept their mental communication minimalized. Their prey would sense their approach if they picked up on the power of their pursuers’ thoughts flinging back and forth along telepathic channels between them.
Reule marked the identifications and locations of the other males of the Pack. Rye, to the north along the stone wall in the underbrush. Darcio, to his rear by several yards, low against the trunk of a thick and ancient oak. Delano, of course, on point ahead of them and moving slowly along the perimeter of the hostile territory they sought to enter. Reule focused next on the house settled deep in the darkness, concentrating until his vision altered to pierce the veil of the brick walls, outlining the greenish-white blobs of movement that indicated life in one form or another. It was easy to differentiate their target; seated centrally and surrounded by others like bees buzzing over their precious queen. All of this activity took place on the second floor.
Reule turned his attention to Delano, watching the sleek speed the male used to breech the property line. In concert, the rest of the Pack moved forward, their senses sharply attuned to the rhythm it would take to succeed at their task. He could have closed his eyes and still known that Rye leapt the stone wall with ease, and that Darcio kept every step timed to match perfectly with his own as Reule advanced.
Each member of the Pack neared the structure with caution. Reule crouched low on the balls of his feet, sharply alert, and he became as still and invisible as shadows. His stillness was timed perfectly. His target came through the near door, so close he nearly tripped over Reule. When the unfortunate crossed in front of him, Reule struck with the speed of a cobra. His fangs exploded into full, glorious length as he attacked, but they wouldn’t taste of this repugnant creature. He could control the impulse, sparing himself the disgust of such an experience.
Instead, it was his extending claws that struck, and even that was conservative. Reule grabbed his victim over his mouth, jerking his head back and puncturing his shoulder with needle sharp nails right through his shirt, the cotton fabric no protection from the invasion. Reule’s muscles flexed as his prey struggled and fought, but they both knew it was a fruitless effort. Once the paralytic tipping his nails broke beyond the skin, it was only a matter of time. Still, Reule held him to keep him quiet until the drug took effect, using his mental power to stifle his victim’s so he could raise no alarms. When the male finally became deadweight in his hold, he released him. The body of his enemy dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks, thudding sickly as bone impacted earth. Reule kicked him away in contempt. The toxin wouldn’t kill him, but if Reule didn’t like what he found when he entered the house, he’d be back to finish the job.
Reule straightened and eased towards the door. He was vigilant for other stragglers as he sought for the heat and motion of others. They were all upstairs in that central room, and now Reule understood why. He heard shouts of laughter and cajoling, cheering and jeering, and he suddenly realized why there were insufficient guards staged to protect the place. He snarled low in loathing and the sound was echoed by his Shadow, Darcio. The others didn’t respond, but they felt Reule’s rage and he felt their agreeing emotion.
And that opened him up to the sorrow once more.
It slammed into him, stronger than before; a devastating sadness that stole his breath away and nearly stopped his heart. Chills rushed up under his flesh until it crawled with agonizing emotional response. Never, in all his many years, had he felt anything like it. He’d shared thoughts and emotions with his Pack for all of his existence, and never had they, his family, been able to project such powerful emotion into him. If he couldn’t feel such things from his family, who could force it upon him? More, what caused such agony? He was the most powerful, the most sensitive when it came to sensing these things, but surely one of his caste had felt deep, abiding pain before! What made this so incredibly intense to him? How did it invade him so easily in spite of his skill and power to resist such things?
Reule tried to shake off the sensations even as he fell back unsteadily against a near wall. Darcio leapt forward, instantly at his side when he sensed his distress. Reule quickly fended off his friend’s concern, recovering and pushing the alien anguish hard away from himself so he could project confidence and strength to the Pack. They were being distracted in dangerous territory and he’d be responsible if any of them were injured because of it. Reule silently realigned their attention with a powerful emanation and he felt them draw back to target swiftly. Only Darcio, who had seen him falter physically, hesitated. Reule ignored his concern and reached for the door.
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