mother and sentinel father. Those scars had hardened him, but today he'd discovered that they couldn't protect against everything.
Sascha had somehow become firmly lodged inside him, a vibrant presence in the heart of hearts where only a mate could go. Now her light, too, was flickering in a storm he couldn't block, danger he couldn't even see. His helplessness devastated him. He was furious at fate for giving him a mate he couldn't keep safe. Perhaps that was why he'd been willfully blind to a truth the panther had known from the start - he hadn't wanted to suffer as he'd done once before, hadn't wanted to bleed his heart's blood.
"You will wake up," he ordered in a harsh whisper, his voice holding the rough edge of a growl. He had no intention of losing what he'd barely found.
Hours passed. They watched. They waited. Birds began to wake but no Psy swooped down on them. It appeared the SnowDancers had kept their word and that whatever had happened to Sascha, it hadn't been because the Council had learned she was helping them.
Nervous mothers started to relax but the soldiers remained on high alert. Just as the sky began to lighten, Sascha stirred. Lucas ordered everyone but Nate and Tamsyn out of the kitchen.
Her eyes opened and she stared up at the ceiling for several seconds before sitting up. "How did I get here?"
"The SnowDancers found you in their territory and I brought you here." He wanted to bare his teeth and mark her. Now that he understood, he had no desire to fight the primitive urges of his beast.
"What? I was supposed to stop in your lands." She went to push back her hair and froze. "You undid my braid."
"Yes." The single word was full of possessiveness.
She looked bewildered and it was the first time he'd ever seen any Psy look that way. "May I have some water?"
Tamsyn was already holding out a glass. Taking it from her, Sascha drank it down. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Tamsyn took the glass back and her eyes met Lucas's. "Maybe I should check on the others."
"Yes."
Nate frowned but heard the message. A minute later, Lucas was alone in the kitchen with Sascha. Leaning forward, he did something he'd been aching to do since she'd woken. He lifted her up into his arms and sat down in a chair with her cradled in his embrace.
She froze. "What are you doing?"
"Holding you." He breathed in the scent of her, tangling one hand in the curls at her waist. "I thought you were dying. You can't die."
As if she understood the anguish he'd gone through, she placed a slender hand hesitantly against his chest and tucked her head under his chin. "I think I was in a deep sleep state. My body is now functioning normally."
"What happened?"
"I don't know."
"I can smell a lie." He felt her tremble in his arms and every protective urge he had surged to the surface. "Speak to me, darling."
"I'll help you," she whispered. "I'll help you find the killer, give you everything I have."
There was a depth of conviction in her voice that hadn't been there earlier. "Why?"
"I have to be at my apartment by noon," she said, in place of an answer. "That was when I told Mother I'd be back from a trip to see an out-of-town architect with you."
"We'll get you there." He squeezed her tight, feeding the need in him, the need for her. "Tell me what happened. I'm not going to stop asking."
"I lost control of my body," she said softly. "I've been having problems for months. They always passed without major incident, but this time, it was like my entire system short-circuited. I headed for your lands because I thought I'd be safe from Psy eyes there."
"You need to be seen by a doctor."
"No." She shook her head. "No one can know that I'm starting to crack."
"It sounds like a physical problem, not a mental one."
"It isn't. I... felt things, Lucas. Things that drove me to unconsciousness. This is coming from my mind." Her hand clenched against his chest. "If they find out..."
He wasn't happy with her not seeing a doctor but knew he had little choice if she'd made up her mind - he'd never had reason to track down a doctor who'd treat Psy patients in confidence. It was something he was going to make it his business to find out. "How're you feeling now?"