force me to say what you will not hear.”
“Then do not tell me you have done all you can.”
Bohdan stood slowly. “I have done all I know how to do with
the information I have.”
Against Deuce’s chest, Edie rested, her breathing too
shallow for comfort. In front of him, Bohdan stood, his face expressionless.
The knot in Deuce’s stomach exploded outward in an emotion so unfamiliar it
took him a minute to recognize it. He tightened his grip on Eden and looked at
his daughter lying so helpless on the bed.
Fear. He feared for his family. He did not know such a depth
of feeling was possible, but with everything logical and elemental in him, he
feared. He brushed his lips over Eden’s forehead. He was Chosen. She was his
mate. He had not found her again just to let her go. “Then I will get more
information.”
* * * * *
Eden came awake slowly, hovering above realty and pain on a
soft cloud of comfort. The awful burning agony in her body drifted just below
her beneath an invisible shield, unable to reach her. She savored the moment of
peace. She’d almost forgotten how it felt to wake without biting back a scream.
“It is time to wake up now, Edie mine.” Deuce’s voice
floated over her sweet dream, strong and confident, with those varied timbres
that resonated in the core of her being. She snuggled deeper into the dream,
into the memory.
“Come, my Eden. Awake.”
She groaned and rolled to her side. Even in her dreams, the
man was bossy. She tucked her hand under her cheek. Fingertips met hers.
Knuckle bumped against knuckle before locking together. The scent of wilderness
and man surrounded her. The fingers entwined with hers squeezed. There was
comfort and demand in the gesture. This wasn’t a dream.
Eden remembered the argument, the command from the “Voice”
to fight. Her hysteria. The pain. And then nothing. For sure, Deuce had touched
her while she was unconscious, which meant there was no going back. They were
all living on borrowed time. She cautiously opened her eyes. Deuce leaned over
her, his expression neutral, his gaze meeting hers without guilt.
“The baby?”
“Our daughter is fed, happy and sleeping in the next room.”
His hand stroked lightly over her head, snagging in the hair at her nape.
Her hair?
She put her hand over his as he worked his finger free of a
snarl. Thick silky strands twisted against her fingertips. This time shock had
her blinking. “You made my hair grow back?”
Something dangerous flared in his eyes before disappearing
behind a wall of neutrality. “I would not leave you so shamed.”
“I wasn’t ashamed.”
His thumb stroked over her cheekbone as light as a feather,
as tender as a kiss, sliding under her defenses. He always could say more with
a touch than most people could with an hour of speech. “No. You would not be.”
He said that as if it were a given. Like she was some sort
of wonder woman, taking on all comers with a brave front. Her “Yes” was a
partial truth. She remembered the helplessness of being strapped down while the
two attendants approached with the razor, their laughter as they’d done their
job, feeling like they’d stripped the last of her humanity from her as they’d
shaved her head, the horror of knowing she truly had become nothing more than a
vehicle for an ongoing experiment sinking in as the last of her hair had fallen
to the lab floor.
Deuce’s grip tightened as his breath hissed between his
teeth and something like satisfaction flared in his black eyes. “I will enjoy
making them pay.”
He was reading her mind! “Stop it!”
She pulled back into the pillow as far as she could, pushing
his hand away before just as quickly letting go. She caught her breath and
reined in her panic. “You have to stay out of my head.” However slight the
chance was, if the Coalition had not found her yet, she didn’t need to create a
beacon for them to follow.
His gaze searched her face. “That is not
“Then do not tell me you have done all you can.”
Bohdan stood slowly. “I have done all I know how to do with
the information I have.”
Against Deuce’s chest, Edie rested, her breathing too
shallow for comfort. In front of him, Bohdan stood, his face expressionless.
The knot in Deuce’s stomach exploded outward in an emotion so unfamiliar it
took him a minute to recognize it. He tightened his grip on Eden and looked at
his daughter lying so helpless on the bed.
Fear. He feared for his family. He did not know such a depth
of feeling was possible, but with everything logical and elemental in him, he
feared. He brushed his lips over Eden’s forehead. He was Chosen. She was his
mate. He had not found her again just to let her go. “Then I will get more
information.”
* * * * *
Eden came awake slowly, hovering above realty and pain on a
soft cloud of comfort. The awful burning agony in her body drifted just below
her beneath an invisible shield, unable to reach her. She savored the moment of
peace. She’d almost forgotten how it felt to wake without biting back a scream.
“It is time to wake up now, Edie mine.” Deuce’s voice
floated over her sweet dream, strong and confident, with those varied timbres
that resonated in the core of her being. She snuggled deeper into the dream,
into the memory.
“Come, my Eden. Awake.”
She groaned and rolled to her side. Even in her dreams, the
man was bossy. She tucked her hand under her cheek. Fingertips met hers.
Knuckle bumped against knuckle before locking together. The scent of wilderness
and man surrounded her. The fingers entwined with hers squeezed. There was
comfort and demand in the gesture. This wasn’t a dream.
Eden remembered the argument, the command from the “Voice”
to fight. Her hysteria. The pain. And then nothing. For sure, Deuce had touched
her while she was unconscious, which meant there was no going back. They were
all living on borrowed time. She cautiously opened her eyes. Deuce leaned over
her, his expression neutral, his gaze meeting hers without guilt.
“The baby?”
“Our daughter is fed, happy and sleeping in the next room.”
His hand stroked lightly over her head, snagging in the hair at her nape.
Her hair?
She put her hand over his as he worked his finger free of a
snarl. Thick silky strands twisted against her fingertips. This time shock had
her blinking. “You made my hair grow back?”
Something dangerous flared in his eyes before disappearing
behind a wall of neutrality. “I would not leave you so shamed.”
“I wasn’t ashamed.”
His thumb stroked over her cheekbone as light as a feather,
as tender as a kiss, sliding under her defenses. He always could say more with
a touch than most people could with an hour of speech. “No. You would not be.”
He said that as if it were a given. Like she was some sort
of wonder woman, taking on all comers with a brave front. Her “Yes” was a
partial truth. She remembered the helplessness of being strapped down while the
two attendants approached with the razor, their laughter as they’d done their
job, feeling like they’d stripped the last of her humanity from her as they’d
shaved her head, the horror of knowing she truly had become nothing more than a
vehicle for an ongoing experiment sinking in as the last of her hair had fallen
to the lab floor.
Deuce’s grip tightened as his breath hissed between his
teeth and something like satisfaction flared in his black eyes. “I will enjoy
making them pay.”
He was reading her mind! “Stop it!”
She pulled back into the pillow as far as she could, pushing
his hand away before just as quickly letting go. She caught her breath and
reined in her panic. “You have to stay out of my head.” However slight the
chance was, if the Coalition had not found her yet, she didn’t need to create a
beacon for them to follow.
His gaze searched her face. “That is not
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