It wasn’t a request. There was no plea, no cajoling. It was an order, clear and dark, conveying more than words ever truly could.
She was his. Everything in her knew it. A part of her rebelled against it. The terminology and the reality of it. She was a human born in this time, a successful woman in her own right. But here and now, with him inside her, with his power, his strength, everything he’d become demanding what he wanted, denying the truth was wrong. “I’m yours,” she whispered, understanding it to the soul.
His thrusts turned wild, searing her with galvanizing heat, illustrating his might and his control. His next violent thrust propelled her into an orgasm so strong she could only shut her eyes and jerk violently through it.
His fangs slashed home again, increasing her tremors until she wound down just as he ground against her and came, his breath harsh and his groan dark.
She gasped several times, aftershocks taking her. Vulnerability was next. The world had changed once again on her.
* * * *
It was intriguing that his heart still beat so wildly in a chest fused by fire, blood, and bone. Oh, it couldn’t be split in two, but even so, what power. Ivar pulled out of his woman and turned her on her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her against his body. Fine tremors still shook her, so he reached down and hauled the bedcovers up and over them both.
She yawned, stretching and then settling into place with the sigh of a satisfied kitten. “Bunny.” She snorted.
He smiled against her hair, his tension ratcheting down a couple of notches. He’d been rough with her—even more so than when they’d mated. But his point had been made, and while it probably proved him to be a bastard, he was content with that fact.
She didn’t seem to be complaining either.
He played with the soft skin over her wrist. Delicate bones—still so breakable. How could he keep her safe while he was out of this universe? Hopefully the math problems would keep her entertained at demon headquarters until he could return. She was Enhanced and mated to a member of the Seven. That put her in danger on a level he wasn’t sure she truly understood.
“What you said about the math—I’m not sure,” she said quietly into the darkness.
He tilted his head on the pillow. “Explain.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he could almost hear her mind working. “My initial goal is always to protect this earth and its people. You know that.”
“Yes.” It was one of the things he truly liked about her—when it wasn’t a pain in his ass. “Go on.”
She kind of ducked her head. “I may have begun in a conservative place with my theory, which is a good place to begin.” The last was said rather defensively. “And we’re talking theoretical physics.”
Exactly. “Find a different hypothesis,” he said.
She exhaled, her shoulder blades rubbing against his chest. “You don’t understand. The only way to move from hypothesis to conclusion is with experiments, and in this case, one experiment could destroy the world as we know it. Many worlds. How can we take such a risk with other people? It’s irresponsible.”
“Have you no faith?” he asked softly, truly curious.
She stiffened. “Faith?”
“Yeah.” He caressed her arm up to her shoulder and back down. The tension in her waned slightly. “Faith. A sense that there’s something bigger. That we’re part of a whole and that there are reasons for everything. Reasons beyond the math and your theory and the reality of right now.”
She swallowed audibly. “Faith is for children.”
Something in her tone caught him. “I bet it wasn’t for you. Not as a child.”
“No,” she said softly. “I brought up the subject of God once, and my dad made me study Darwin for an entire week before I could do anything else.”
Ivar wished he could go back and punch Promise’s dad in the head. “Aren’t theoreticists, scientists, supposed to be open to all eventualities? All possibilities?”
“Well, yes.”
“Before last week, did you think vampires existed? Or were they like God or Santa Claus?” he asked.
“Oh, Santa Claus exists.” She waited and then gave a slight chuckle. “Fair enough. But I have to ask, as somebody who has lived centuries, do you really believe in God?” She seemed to hold her breath.
He lifted a shoulder. “Yeah. I mean, I know Fate exists, so why not God? Maybe we