on a small lamp on a nearby table.
Lana barely noticed the tidy room with the oak desk and two deep leather chairs set near the floor-to-ceiling bookcase. She was far too busy glaring at her companion.
She was furious at being manhandled.
That’s why her heart was racing and butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach, right?
It couldn’t be because her fingers ached to trace the copper features that reminded her of an Egyptian deity. Or to thread through the silky black hair with the striking silver streak that had always fascinated her.
No.
Dammit. She was the Mave. She wasn’t allowed to notice a male as anything more than a tool to be used for her people.
Tilting her chin, she deliberately pulled her arm from his lingering grasp.
“Do I have to remind you who I am?”
Wolfe stepped forward, invading her space and allowing his power to wrap around her like a physical force.
“You can if you want to, but it would be a waste of your breath.”
She scowled. Wolfe enjoyed getting under her skin. He was a male who lived on the edge. In every aspect of his life.
But he rarely pressed beyond the barriers she’d firmly established.
“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded.
“You,” he growled, leaning down until they were nose to nose. “You’re what’s wrong with me.”
She blinked in shock. “What?”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a simple question.”
His breath brushed her cheek, sending tiny jolts of awareness down her spine.
This was dangerous. So . . . dangerous.
Instinctively she took a step away from the disturbing male, her back hitting the glossy paneling.
“I don’t remember,” she muttered.
His hand landed on the wall next to her head as he once again leaned into her.
“I do,” he growled. “It was over twenty-four hours ago.”
Her brows snapped together. Had he been spying on her? Or had her personal chef been tattling? Neither possibility made her happy.
“How do you know?”
Predictably he ignored her question. “It’s also been forty-eight hours since you last slept.”
Dammit. He had been spying on her.
She lifted her free hand to press it against his chest. “You’re not my father, Wolfe,” she snapped.
His lips twisted, his heat pounding against her palm as his gaze lowered to the low-cut neckline of her sleeveless sweater. She deliberately chose clothing that revealed the witch mark, which shimmered with a brilliant emerald sheen. It never hurt to remind her people of her power.
Only Wolfe could make her feel soft and feminine and sexually vulnerable.
“I have never once, in all the time I’ve known you, possessed any fatherly feelings toward you.” His low words sent a renegade awareness tingling through her body.
She clenched her teeth. “Then stop fussing.”
“It’s my job to protect you,” he reminded her in stark tones. “Even if it’s from your stubborn refusal to take care of yourself.”
Lana grimaced. He had a point. The Tagos was directly responsible for ensuring the well-being of the Mave. And she might have appreciated his attempt to play the mother hen if it didn’t threaten to undermine her icy command over her emotions.
She couldn’t allow herself to become addicted to Wolfe’s unwavering concern.
She couldn’t rely on anyone.
“I will eat and rest after my meeting with Calder,” she said, holding his gaze until he took a reluctant step backward.
He glanced toward the file folder in her hand. “Why are you meeting with the Master of Gifts?”
“Kaede contacted me earlier.”
Wolfe was on instant alert. “What did he discover?”
The constriction that was making it difficult to breathe slowly eased as Wolfe deliberately leashed his raw, male power.
“He thinks the leader of the Brotherhood is hiding a high-blood.”
Wolfe’s jaw tightened. “A captive?”
Lana gave a slow shake of her head. None of them wanted to believe that one of their own could be anything but completely loyal.
Unfortunately the past months had proven that high-bloods were just as likely to betray their people as humans.
“He didn’t think so,” she admitted.
The ebony eyes smoldered with revulsion. “A traitor?”
“It’s possible.”
“Shit,” Wolfe bit out.
Yeah. That about summed it up.
“Kaede managed to take a picture on his cell phone and send it to me,” she said.
His brows snapped together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She didn’t take offense at his annoyance. She rarely kept information from him.
“It was at a distance and the man was standing in the shadows,” she explained. “Thankfully I had enough to work with to conjure a clearer image.”
Unexpectedly his finger reached up to brush the delicate skin beneath her eyes.
“That explains these shadows,” he murmured.
She struggled not to react to his light