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  She kissed him back—slowly, tentatively as she tried to mimic his motions. She flattened her hands against his chest and stretched up onto her toes to press her lips against his more firmly. There was no debate about the wisdom of it; only need fueled her actions. He groaned softly, his chest rumbling beneath her fingertips. He tightened his grip on her neck and the kiss became harder. He pressed her lips apart, seeking a deeper taste of her. She shuddered. Too many points of contact were flooding her with sensation simultaneously. It was overwhelming, the sheer volume of it too much for her to handle. He was suddenly too strong, too hard, and too demanding. The intensity of the moment threatened to rip away every last layer of her free will, leaving her at the mercy of her responses to him.

  She shoved against him, interrupting their kiss with the amount of strength she used.

  “Release me.”

  She’d gained a few inches of space, but he didn’t release her completely. For a frozen moment, she stared into Bion’s eyes and witnessed a side of his personality she’d only seen glimpses of before. It sent shivers down her spine and tantalized her at the same time. A twist of anticipation went through her belly as she stared into his dark eyes. There was a hunger there, an insatiable, burning need that kept her breathless. Like some sort of promise that she felt deep inside, where the only rules were the ones made by her feelings.

  “As you like,” he muttered at last. “But I warned you not to label me something unless you want me to embody it.” His eyes narrowed. “I prefer action, and I believe you do too.”

  She stumbled back when he released her. Once she regained her balance, she advanced on him once more before realizing what she was doing. One of his dark eyebrows arched and he held his arms wide, beckoning her closer with his fingers.

  “By all means, step up, madam. I will be happy to meet your challenge. Now that I’ve stolen a kiss and you have so boldly returned it, shall we proceed to lending truth to the gossip that we are lovers? It would certainly be a better use for all the anger you like to aim at me.”

  Her cheeks burned scarlet, but she had to battle against the urge to do exactly what he suggested. There was an insane twist of need prodding her to punch the man square in the center of his chest. It was practically impossible to control. “We shall not,” she choked out.

  “Hmm, now that is disappointing,” he grumbled suggestively. “Especially when your lips are still glistening from the kiss you so passionately demanded I take from you. Normally I would correct you on your terminology, but in this case, I believe I enjoy your saying I stole it. And your challenge makes you an accessory to the crime.” His voice deepened dangerously. “We might make fine lovers. I could promise you an end to your nightmares.”

  He reached out and stroked her cheek. It was a tender touch, surprising her with just how seductive he could be.

  Temptation needled her. For a moment, she was caught in its grasp, her reason for refusing lost somewhere in the back of her mind. The hesitation drew his attention, his eyes flickering with anticipation. He reached for her, and she recoiled, sure her faltering self-discipline was about to crumble.

  She drew in a deep breath and swallowed roughly.

  “I am not impressed with your attempts to lay the blame for this… impropriety at my feet. You should never have allowed it to be said that we are lovers. I have a right to be irritated by such a thing. It is misplaced of you to think I am challenging you in some personal manner.” She’d spat the last word at him before she realized how inappropriate it was to even say such a thing. “You are only making excuses for yourself, like some sort of… well…”

  “Well, what, Miss Stevenson?” He took one lazy step toward her, his eyes daring her to stand her ground.

  “Like a pirate,” she sputtered before her nerve snapped and she retreated from his imposing form. “Your pin might be that of a captain, but you have all the makings of a marauding, arrogant pirate.” There. She’d insulted him as any decent lady should. She nodded but wasn’t honestly sure if she was trying to impress him or herself with her words.

  His lips curved into a mocking grin, and he lifted his hand to his lips and blew her a kiss. “I will do my best to live up to your expectations of me… sweet Sophia.”

  “Why are you calling me ‘sweet’?”

  “Pirates don’t use formal forms of address, not with delectable morsels of womanhood such as you. They tend to take what they crave.”

  He caught a handful of her skirt and held her steady as he stole another kiss from her. This time the kiss was hard and demanding. The heat burning her cheeks suddenly flowed through her body like molten lava. Her lips tingled and the sensation rippled down her body. There wasn’t a spot it didn’t touch, not a single patch of skin that wasn’t envious of the touch her lips enjoyed. Longing erupted inside her, making her thirsty for more contact between them.

  She felt as though she was falling and what bothered her was just how little control she seemed to have over her descent. When Bion pulled away, her breath was raspy. His lips curved into a smug grin that infuriated her.

  She slapped him, the sound drawing curious looks from those in the center of the library. The dim light offered her sanctuary from their gaze but not from the soft chuckle Bion offered in response.

  “You…”

  One dark eyebrow rose, his eyes narrowing with challenge. She bit back her words, stunned by just how much effort it took to do so. Her skirt flared out as she turned and hurried away. The only problem was, she was running from herself.

  ***

  “He is clearly suffering from delusions,” Dr. Hallas decided. “He shall need to be removed to the treatment rooms on the other side of the Solitary Chamber, so my staff can attend to him properly.”

  The guards looked at one another before one spoke up. “But he’s accused of treason and was placed here to ensure he doesn’t escape.”

  “My good man, this fellow is in no condition to escape.” The doctor went to the door of the cell and opened it. He stood back and looked at Grainger. “You may leave, Mr. Grainger.”

  Grainger continued to hop about the cell like a giant toad. The slice of bread with its twin holes was stuck to his face as he frolicked.

  “You see, gentlemen, he is completely immersed in his delusions. He has no desire to escape.” The doctor lifted his chin and walked out of the cell. “I will send two of my staff members with a wheelchair for him.”

  Grainger found his control tested. He could taste victory, even if the exact means were still not fully clear. He hopped again and faced the solid walls of his cell. There was only a single, small window in the door, making escape very unlikely. But he would soon be moving, and the ignorant Illuminists imprisoning him would never know that they were being manipulated by his superior intellect.

  Not until it was too late.

  ***

  “You look ready to kill,” Janette Lawley said as she sat down next to Sophia in the common dining area. It was fashioned like a great hall from a century past, when the majority of a castle’s population ate together. In this case, it helped reduce the risk of fire in the dormitory wings by removing the need for Novices to cook.

  “I don’t suppose I need you to explain,” Janette added as Sophia continued to glare at her through her purple-tinted glasses.

  “Good,” Sophia snapped. She stiffened when she realized how tart she sounded. “Forgive me, Janette. It has been a trying day.”

  “Only the day?”

  Sophia returned to glaring at her friend.

  Janette waved her hand. “Don’t think me unkind, Sophia. I recall very well just how vexing these Illuminist men can be. But it will all right itself, you’ll see.”

  Sophia lowered her fork. There really was no point in pretending she could eat. “I am truly happy for you, Janette, but when did you begin believing rumors? You used to be much more interesting.”

  Janette laughed. “True. Didn’t we make a solemn promise to one another to never bel
ieve gossip?”

  “When we were about eight years old.” Sophia smiled with the memory. “I recall that we even set out the lace napkins to ensure we both remembered how important the occasion was.”

  “That’s right,” Janette agreed. “Which means you shall have to share all the details of your evening with Captain Donkova with me. Otherwise, I shall be left with nothing but gossip.” Janette smiled and dipped her spoon into her bowl and lifted a steaming measure of soup up to her lips. The white steam twisted around her nose for a moment before she turned a ghastly shade of gray and the spoon clattered back into the bowl, splattering soup onto the table.

  “Oh, dear… how clumsy of me.” She dabbed at the table but couldn’t seem to look at the soup. She pushed it away at last, looking as if she was fighting off nausea.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Janette smiled, and her cheeks colored as her eyes glittered with happiness. “I’m pregnant.”

  Sophia nearly choked on her own soup. Janette laughed at the look on her face, which earned her a pout from Sophia. “You said that word just to be shocking, Janette Aston.”

  “Janette Aston Lawley, which makes my announcement quite acceptable,” she argued.

  “I don’t care if you are married and an Illuminist; that word is uncouth.” But Sophia laughed softly in spite of her reprimand. “It does not belong in an open dining hall.”

  Janette leaned forward. “Perhaps not, but since we don’t have to worry about our fathers banishing us to some drafty castle in the Highlands anymore, there isn’t any reason to tailor our speech to please the gossiping horde that we used to have to accommodate before coming here.”

  But I also don’t get to hear my sisters teasing me over the breakfast table.

  Sophia tried to brush the thought aside but Janette knew her far too well. Her friend gasped and looked stricken.

  “I’m so sorry, Sophia. That was terribly mean of me to forget you are separated from your family.”

  “I am quite adjusted to the situation,” Sophia spoke softly, doing her best to mask the sting. “It isn’t as if it is forever.”

  Janette wasn’t fooled. She leaned across the table. “It will be better, now that you’ve taken a lover.”

  “I have not… taken a lover.” She struggled to keep her voice down. “And I assure you, if I were to do anything of the sort, it certainly wouldn’t be Bion Donkova. I am forced to deal with his arrogant, commanding attitude enough during the day, thank you very much.”

  “You forgot to mention handsome.”

  “He is but—” Sophia froze as Janette smirked with victory.

  “But what?” Janette inquired far too innocently.

  “But,” Sophia announced, “he is not my lover.”

  Oh, but you’ve been thinking about what it would be like all day.

  Sophia picked up her fork, intent on finishing her supper so she might escape. Janette rolled her eyes before selecting something else on her dinner plate and sniffing at it.

  ***

  Walking along the corridors that led to the secured Novice wing felt twice as long tonight. Anticipation was twisting through Sophia, growing stronger with every step. Somehow, her rooms had ceased to be a sanctuary from Bion’s irritating persona and become the very place she couldn’t escape him. In fact, her rooms were now the most dangerous place to be with the man because they might have complete privacy—coupled with her lack of self-discipline. She shuffled her steps.

  The two men standing guard at the entrance noticed her and she straightened her back and picked up her feet. They nodded to her and one reached for his earpiece and opened the secured gate that led to her dormitory wing. But her cheeks colored because they knew Bion had spent the night with her. The fact that they didn’t consider it a mark upon her reputation didn’t ease her discomfort as she continued down to her door and opened it slowly.

  Her hesitation annoyed her. She was not afraid of the man.

  Only the way he makes you lose control.

  That was a shameful truth.

  But an exciting one too.

  She sent the door closed with a sigh. Her thoughts were far too unruly. The day had been demanding and she needed to sleep, but she knew it was going to be another restless night. Inside the entry room, the light level was lower. She pulled her glasses off, enjoying the moment of freedom from them. Her desk had two books on it that she needed to read, but her mind was too restless to concentrate. She left her glasses on top of them and sought out the bathroom. Maybe a bath would calm her.

  Maybe taking Bion as your lover will…

  Enough!

  ***

  “She doesn’t need you at the moment, Captain,” Darius Lawley said over the rim of his brandy glass.

  “Well, I might argue that point,” Lykos Claxton interjected with a cocky smirk.

  “But you won’t,” Darius countered.

  Lykos frowned. “You’re no fun at all since you married.” He leaned forward and pushed the brandy glass Bion had left untouched closer to him. “Go on, I’m curious what you might do if you loosened up a bit.”

  “How is it you are still among the living?” Bion growled.

  Darius chuckled and offered Bion a toast. “It seems we have something in common, Captain. We both fail to understand Guardian Lykos’s propensity to agitate us.”

  “I am neither married nor hypnotized by someone I am unwilling to admit my attraction to, which leaves me the pleasure of watching the pair of you,” Lykos announced dramatically.

  “I am so pleased to hear that,” Decima purred softly.

  Lykos stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he turned to look at her. “Taking brandy with the men tonight, Guardian? I might claim to be surprised, but then again, I am well aware of your everlasting struggle to ignore your gender and ensure we notice your efforts.”

  Decima softened her expression, becoming a radiant vision. She relaxed her formal posture and became alluring in an instant. With a delicate hand, she reached for the brandy snifter sitting in front of Lykos, but she didn’t pick it up. Instead, she traced the rim of it with the tip of one slim finger.

  “I would never be so predictable, Guardian Claxton.”

  She turned and left, but Lykos’s gaze was fixed on her departing figure.

  “Not mesmerized my ass,” Darius muttered, gaining a soft, menacing chuckle from Bion. Darius lifted his brandy in a silent toast to the captain.

  Bion surprised them by sitting down and reaching for the crystal decanter sitting in the middle of the table. “Being on land has some advantages,” he said as he poured a measure of the strong beverage into a snifter. “I can never indulge myself when aboard ship.”

  It wasn’t a duty he lamented, even if part of him was amused by the idea of acting like a pirate. The men around him were ones dedicated to duty. It was not an easy road, but the truest rewards came from achieving what many found too demanding. He lifted the glass to his nose and inhaled. No, he didn’t regret anything. Not even stealing that kiss from Sophia Stevenson. That had been his pleasure.

  And hers too.

  For a moment he allowed himself to recall the way she’d kissed him. Tentatively, but she’d still responded with far more passion than he’d expected. That was the detail he really needed to forget. He took another sip of the brandy and then another as he tried to let the strong beverage erase the memory of just how well her body fit against his.

  Instead, all the brandy did was strip aside his reasons for not seeking her out.

  So he lifted his glass toward Lykos, smiling when the man filled it again. He’d never been a slave to drinking, but for the moment, the snifter was keeping him in his chair.

  It felt like a monumental achievement.

  ***

  “Come, my friend, we have a fine carriage for you.”

  Grainger cocked his head to one side and looked at the orderlies. They had on white coats and were smiling at him. The wheelchair was a wide one but what alarmed him
were the thick leather straps secured to each armrest and on the footrest too. He smiled at them and clapped his hands together.

  “He’s a cheery one,” one of the men said.

  “Aye, lucky for him too, since I heard he was going to face execution for his crimes,” the other remarked. “I suppose the fear was too much for the bloke.”

  Grainger hopped in a small circle, needing a moment to hide his expression. He did not fear an Illuminist. But like any beasts of burden, he had to outsmart them when he was surrounded.

  “Come on… we’re going on a little walkabout,” the orderly cooed.

  Grainger clapped again and hopped toward the chair. It shimmied as he climbed into it and clapped some more.

  “All right then, let’s go.”

  “Shouldn’t I secure him?”

  The orderly behind the chair began pushing it. “Don’t bother. He’s harmless. He might have survived that knock on the head, but it left him simple. It’s in his file from Hawaii too. The man hasn’t made sense since he opened his eyes. If you ask me, they should have just left him there, where it was warm enough for him to run about half clothed.”

  Grainger didn’t have to fake his smile. It was bright and full of victory but the two fools so easily assisting him out of the prison area were clueless. They wouldn’t last a day as Helikeians. Failure wasn’t tolerated among his elite Order. In fact, any member who proved inferior would be eliminated so that his blood could not be passed on.

  There were guards at the end of the hallway, where a large arch went from one side of the hallway to the other. Inside it were Deep Earth Crystals, and one of the guards depressed his ear control device to complete the current so that the orderlies might proceed through. Grainger hummed and moved his head from side to side as they left the prison wing behind them.

  “Must be nice to be so cheerful,” the orderly pushing the chair remarked.

  “I’ll be right happy if he continues to do what we ask without giving us fits like some of the other patients,” his companion responded.

  Grainger continued to smile, enjoying the feeling of impending freedom. He clapped his hands, almost giddy with the knowledge that he wasn’t strapped to the chair.