through. Ivar shut it down, and refusing to turn away, slipped his other hand between her and the seat cushions. Fingers spread wide, he palmed her lower back, then dipped his head, and pressed his cheek to hers. She murmured his name. He whispered back, telling her it was all right as the Meridian hummed, opening the cosmic connection, allowing him to link into her life-force. Unable to resist, he drank in the way of his kind, drawing nourishing energy from her into his core. Hunger surged, clawing past reason as his dragon half rose. Magic whiplashed, surging through his veins and...oh God. She tasted good. So damned good . Better than any female he’d ever—
A snarl broke free, bubbling up his throat.
Sasha moaned in answer. With a quick shift, she buried her hands in his hair. Sensation spiked. The current amplified, immobilizing him as she connected to the Meridian through him. The powerful force that fed Dragonkind flexed. Energy detonated like a bomb, blasting him with cosmic debris. Pain burned beneath the surface of his skin. Heart throbbing, Ivar tried to break free. To push her away and sever the connection. Sasha tightened her grip, and turning the tables, used the Meridian against him, subduing his dragon half. Paralyzed now, unable to let go, his vision tunneled, then flickered, flaring bright, blinking off, spinning him around the lip of sensory overload.
His mind fogged, then went sideways inside his head. The mental slosh slowed his reaction as air rushed from his lungs, cutting off his oxygen supply. Deprivation set in, triggering his gag reflex. His stomach dipped. Bile washed into his mouth. Ignoring the awful taste, Ivar fought physical lockdown, struggling to disengage without hurting her, but...sweet Jesus. She was taking too much. Was draining his core energy while obliterating his ability to fight back. Something he needed to change. Faster than fast. Otherwise, she would kill him...
I n her fucking sleep.
Gritting his teeth, Ivar forced his muscles to unlock. Pain lashed him again. He kept going, fighting to break her hold on him. Non-contact. A serious amount of separation. It was the only way to combat the energy rush and ensure his survival. Body straining, shaking like a drug addict in withdrawal, he wrenched his hands from her skin. The current downgraded, then snapped, freeing him from the magical tether.
Sasha grumbled in protest.
Ivar didn’t care. Breathing like a wounded race horse, he shoved away from the couch and backpedaled. He slammed into the armchair. Wooded legs skittered across the floor as he tripped over his own feet, careened into the kitchen, and scrambled toward the door. He didn’t look back. Didn’t stop for his clothes. Or search for his boots. Only one thing mattered. Freedom. He needed to get the hell away from Sasha. Away from sensory overload. Away from the mind-torque of cosmic connection.
Away from the compulsion he felt to return to her.
Sick to his stomach, Ivar stumbled over the threshold. The door clicked behind him. Cold air slapped at him as he staggered across the porch. Off balance, he lost his footing and fell down the steps. Wooden stair treads hammered his back, scraping a bloody trail across his skin. He landed at the bottom with a bone-jarring thud, and with a grunt, struggled to his feet. His knees buckled and...goddamn it. She’d sucked him dry. Now nothing was working right. His body had gone haywire, messing with his coordination, hampering vital function. God, he couldn’t even see straight. Legs acting like wet noodles, he dragged himself across the yard, past the stupid Jeep, and onto the road.
Sharp stones cut into his bare soles.
Ivar barely noticed. So close. He was so close now. Less than one hundred yards away from the firehouse and the safety of home. All he needed to do was hold on a little longer.
Seeing double, Ivar hobbled toward 28 Walton Street. A trio of industrial-size garage doors came into view. Squinting, he
A snarl broke free, bubbling up his throat.
Sasha moaned in answer. With a quick shift, she buried her hands in his hair. Sensation spiked. The current amplified, immobilizing him as she connected to the Meridian through him. The powerful force that fed Dragonkind flexed. Energy detonated like a bomb, blasting him with cosmic debris. Pain burned beneath the surface of his skin. Heart throbbing, Ivar tried to break free. To push her away and sever the connection. Sasha tightened her grip, and turning the tables, used the Meridian against him, subduing his dragon half. Paralyzed now, unable to let go, his vision tunneled, then flickered, flaring bright, blinking off, spinning him around the lip of sensory overload.
His mind fogged, then went sideways inside his head. The mental slosh slowed his reaction as air rushed from his lungs, cutting off his oxygen supply. Deprivation set in, triggering his gag reflex. His stomach dipped. Bile washed into his mouth. Ignoring the awful taste, Ivar fought physical lockdown, struggling to disengage without hurting her, but...sweet Jesus. She was taking too much. Was draining his core energy while obliterating his ability to fight back. Something he needed to change. Faster than fast. Otherwise, she would kill him...
I n her fucking sleep.
Gritting his teeth, Ivar forced his muscles to unlock. Pain lashed him again. He kept going, fighting to break her hold on him. Non-contact. A serious amount of separation. It was the only way to combat the energy rush and ensure his survival. Body straining, shaking like a drug addict in withdrawal, he wrenched his hands from her skin. The current downgraded, then snapped, freeing him from the magical tether.
Sasha grumbled in protest.
Ivar didn’t care. Breathing like a wounded race horse, he shoved away from the couch and backpedaled. He slammed into the armchair. Wooded legs skittered across the floor as he tripped over his own feet, careened into the kitchen, and scrambled toward the door. He didn’t look back. Didn’t stop for his clothes. Or search for his boots. Only one thing mattered. Freedom. He needed to get the hell away from Sasha. Away from sensory overload. Away from the mind-torque of cosmic connection.
Away from the compulsion he felt to return to her.
Sick to his stomach, Ivar stumbled over the threshold. The door clicked behind him. Cold air slapped at him as he staggered across the porch. Off balance, he lost his footing and fell down the steps. Wooden stair treads hammered his back, scraping a bloody trail across his skin. He landed at the bottom with a bone-jarring thud, and with a grunt, struggled to his feet. His knees buckled and...goddamn it. She’d sucked him dry. Now nothing was working right. His body had gone haywire, messing with his coordination, hampering vital function. God, he couldn’t even see straight. Legs acting like wet noodles, he dragged himself across the yard, past the stupid Jeep, and onto the road.
Sharp stones cut into his bare soles.
Ivar barely noticed. So close. He was so close now. Less than one hundred yards away from the firehouse and the safety of home. All he needed to do was hold on a little longer.
Seeing double, Ivar hobbled toward 28 Walton Street. A trio of industrial-size garage doors came into view. Squinting, he
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