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“I always knew someone would find me. Abduct me.” My voice rose with every word, edged with hysteria. “To use me. Survival of the fittest, right? But I’m not a predator. Not like you. I never had a chance!”

“Alfea.”

I spun, jabbing a finger in his direction. “All your fancy words and ‘I’ll protect you’ bullshit can quit. I don’t want to hear anything else. I just want to go home!”

Every muscle in my body quivered like I’d just completed a fifty-yard dash. My chest heaved, my breath rasping in the sudden silence. The Prime sat completely still, his lips slightly parted, his pupils pinpricks amidst the muted green glow of his eyes.

Instinct screamed at me to run, but it warred with an equally potent, nearly magnetic  compulsion to go to him. To fall at his feet. Obey him.

“Unbelievable. You’re mind-fucking me without even trying, aren’t you?”

He blinked, releasing a slow breath. “You need to leave,” he said in a low, chilling voice. “Go. Right now.”

I laughed shrilly. “Really? Should I bow, too? Or maybe curtsy? What does Samantha do when you order her around?”

I was quite possibly the stupidest person on the planet.

Cool fingers surrounded my throat in a deceptively gentle grip. I hadn’t seen him move. Not even a blur. I think my heart stopped for a few seconds before resuming its beat with a roar.

The Prime tilted my head back, angling my face to his. His eyes were still green—thank God—but I could clearly see fangs behind his lips. They looked decidedly sharp, the tips so fine they were almost invisible.

“Never, in more than a millennia, have I met a creature as irreverent as you,” he murmured silkily. His thumbs pressed deeply into either side of my throat, cutting off blood flow until my vision dimmed. “So fragile.” His fingers gentled, stroking lightly. “And yet so resilient. Alisande seems to think you’re worth the incredible risk I’m taking on you.”

“Not… worth it,” I wheezed.

The library door slammed open and I glimpsed Adam, white-eyed and ready to rock.

“Riven, what the fuck? Are you all right?”

The Prime ignored him, continuing his sensual torture on my throat, thumbs sliding up to my jaw and down to my collarbone in teasing, circular patterns. Letting me feel his strength, his dominance.

I cursed him even as I felt arousal surge, hot and heavy in my blood. His nostrils flared and—if I wasn’t hallucinating—his fangs extended further.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I ground out. “I’ve had a fourteen-year drought.”

His lips twitched, involuntarily it seemed, then parted in a grin. A short chuckle escaped him, then another, until he was laughing uproariously. Stumbling backward, he collapsed on a nearby couch and covered his face with his hands. From the noises he was making, he’d just heard the best joke of his life.

Drunk on adrenaline and the sound of the Prime’s laughter, I glanced across the room at Adam. “I think I broke him.” He stared at me for a long moment, some feeling I couldn’t name in his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was admiration.

“Maybe you should head to your room, Alfea.”

I nodded. “Excellent idea.”

I snagged a couple of books on my way out.

THE MORNING DAWNED clear and bright, with birds chirping and breezes blowing. From a window in my pretty prison, I watched six large and beautiful wolves streak from the compound toward the forest. I envied them. Even hated them, a little.

I was in a mood.

Upon returning to my room the previous night, I’d spent the better part of six excruciating hours twiddling my thumbs. I’d rearranged the furniture before the fireplace, thumbed through two extremely dry tomes on European history, and unpacked my meager belongings into a dresser. I’d even searched every pocket of my overnight bag twice, in case I missed something Mal had snuck in for me. A cell phone. A pack of gum. Even a deck of cards would have been welcome.

Sleep finally claimed me a few hours before dawn, only to abandon me at the first touch of light in the sky. After another marathon shower, I’d spent an inordinate amount of time staring at myself in the mirror.

You look just like your mother.

Maybe I did. I wouldn’t know, as she’d left just after my birth and my father hadn’t kept any pictures of her. At a young age, I’d been sworn to silence on the subject, though Mal had given me a few nuggets over the years.

She’d been beautiful and troubled. Charming and selfish. Emotionally volatile. Before her marriage to my father, Delilah Greer had been a self-professed bohemian, never staying in one city long. Mal had told me that when she’d been pregnant with me, she’d sometimes disappeared for days at a time.

But despite her varied and hurtful idiosyncrasies, my father had been nuts about her. When she’d left him with a newborn and no word, he’d been inconsolable. If it hadn’t been for Mal, and eventually me, he might have gone off the deep end.

Once, I’d come home from college on a surprise visit. When I’d let myself into the house, I’d found my dad drunk in his recliner. Misled by booze and darkness, he’d mistaken me for my long lost mother. My strong, proud father had cried out and fallen to his knees. The following  day, it was understood we would never mention the incident.

Outside, leaves swirled across a courtyard of gray stone. The shadows of wolves darted inside the forest line.

I decided to go for a run.

Not giving myself time for second thoughts, I stuffed my feet in sneakers, grabbed the metal keycard from the dresser, and headed out the door. The hallway was silent and empty. As I waited for the elevator, I ignored the itch between my shoulder blades, as well as the impulse to glance behind me every few seconds.

The paneled doors opened without incident. I hurried inside, jabbing the button for the ground floor while glancing periodically down the hall. By the time the elevator started moving, my heart was pounding.

When the doors opened again, I was almost relieved to see Adam’s familiar face. He blinked in surprise. “Where are you going?”

I squared my shoulders. “For a run.”

He took in my sockless, sneakered feet. “Uh-huh.”

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A/N

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