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her body. Her breasts pressed into his back and ached with the need to be closer. She pushed aside the rising physical awareness of him. Nothing would mar this moment for her.

Vikirnoff let his breath out slowly. This was torture. Sheer torture. He could barely keep the beast in him leashed when her blood called to him, when every cell in his body demanded hers, when his lifemate was lying across him, her body imprinted into his skin, his flesh, his very bones.

The scent of her blood, the sound of the life moving through her veins called to him, tempted him when he was in such need. Hunger raged through his body and mind, but he forced control, called on a thousand years of discipline and emptied his mind of erotic images of her, filling it instead with the form of a giant bird.

A small sound escaped Natalya as his bones crackled and popped, stretching to accommodate his wings and the body of an owl large enough to race across the sky carrying a woman. Iridescent feathers covered his body and his hands curved into sharp talons to grip the balcony railing. Agony filled every cell in his body and flooded his mind so that he had to use every ounce of discipline he had learned over the centuries to hold the form of the owl. His body shuddered with the effort and for a moment his lungs burned for air as he came to grips with pain.

"This is fabulous!"

The uninhibited joy in her voice was worth the terrible agony in his body. It was worth every wrenching tear of his injured muscles and organs. He knew nothing of women and even less of lifemates. He was aware he was making every mistake he could possibly make, although he didn't understand why. He had lived far longer, his experiences far exceeded hers, his nature demanded he protect her, yet she seemed to be offended when he attempted to impart wisdom or protection to her. But this-this simple thing he gave her and she was overjoyed. Her joy took away the pain as nothing else could.

Laughter bubbled up in her, spilled out as he sprang into the air and gained height, flapping his tremendous wings and circling above the inn. He cloaked them, preventing the townspeople from seeing them, although he was certain they would hear her laughing as bird and rider gained the skies.

He flew over the rolling hills dotted with a half dozen farms. The sharp eyes of the owl spotted a group of men heading back to the farmhouse, glancing uneasily toward the north. We need blood.

Natalya held on while the large bird swooped low and hopped from a hay sheaf to the ground. She slid off and watched Vikirnoff shift, entranced by the ease with which he changed. For just one moment she glimpsed pain in his eyes and then he was striding away toward the farmers. She kept an eye on the skies. The darker clouds spun and boiled but stayed far to the north. She could feel the continual pull of the mountain peaks calling her, drawing her to them. She couldn't turn back, no matter the danger. It was rather like being one of the too-stupid-to-live teens in the late night movies, going to the very place where Freddie waited with his steel claws.

There you go thinking about Freddie again. How many times did you watch these movies? Vikirnoff's voice held a gentle teasing note.

Natalya looked up at him with a quick grin. "That was fast. Have you heard the concept of savoring your food?"

He bent toward her until they were a breath apart. "Only when it is you."

Natalya gestured toward the mountains. "I have to get there, Vikirnoff." She wasn't going to look into his eyes and get lost.

Maybe you are already lost and just do not know it yet.

"Dream on, buster." She snapped her fingers. "Where's my ride?"

It was easier the second time, especially with his hunger abated. Once in the air, Vikirnoff flew over the meadows and hills in a low flying pattern to allow Natalya to see the countryside from the air. She was a natural, fearless, moving with him, her body so tuned to his that she would begin to shift her weight at the exact same moment he needed her to.

He picked the cave coordinates out of Natalya's mind. She was so preoccupied absorbing the sensations of flight, she didn't notice his intrusion, nor did she have any

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