what kind of person she was. Who she was. Wild sex was what she totally needed, but not with a man like Sevastyan. Sevastyan was the kind of man who could own a woman with his brand of sex. She should have been paying more attention to how many of those women came back night after night in the hopes of being Sevastyan’s choice for the night, even though they had permanent partners.
Sex was a powerful weapon if it was used that way— and it could be wielded as a weapon. Sevastyan clearly was adept at using sex for whatever the reason. She was in so much trouble. “It’s not your fault, Flamme,” she whispered aloud, and rubbed the swelling on her head for the hundredth time. “You were trying to protect us.”
The last thing she expected was for his leopard to claim hers. She paced restlessly again. Her leopard was in her first life cycle. Mistakes were made. She knew that. This had to be a mistake because no way in hell was Flambé going to be claimed by a shifter. She’d be trapped by Sevastyan.
“What do you want, Flambé? What are you doing here? You think things through. Plan things carefully. Since the first time you laid eyes on that man, you’ve been out of control. You have to pull back and figure this out, because if you don’t, it will be too late and you’ll never get out of this mess.”
She had always talked aloud when she planned anything. She was an only child and most often alone. She lived in the studio because her father took in so many strangers, so her “room” had been the studio to “give her privacy,” even as a child. Which really meant give her father many rooms in the house for his women.
She had talked aloud to hear sound. She played music, filling the room with the soothing rhythms so she didn’t feel so lonely. Talking to herself in times of stress had become a habit. She was used to small spaces and they comforted her.
“You like him. That was unexpected. You didn’t think in terms of liking him. It was supposed to be all about sex.” She crossed to the large bed and stared down at it. She hadn’t gotten on it so the blankets had remained untouched. There wasn’t so much as a wrinkle on the comforter. “He didn’t want you upstairs in his personal space and that’s good.” She looked around the room, a long slow sweep through her leopard’s eyes. “This is a nice room that any guest would be happy to be in. He’s treating you so politely. Perfect manners.”
Restlessness had her pacing again. The room was so large and she was able to walk the length, using the sitting room area as well. “You don’t matter any more than those women mattered to him. Your leopard matters to his leopard. You know that. You felt it when they connected. If you stay here with him, you’ll have that amazing sex you dreamt of, and your leopard will be happy. So will his leopard. This is a great property for the leopards to run free. He wants you for his leopard and to have his children, just the way the other shifters wanted the women for their leopards and to have children. What happened to them? In the end? What happened to your mother? What kind of lives did they have? You know better than to fall for this bullshit.”
She paused by the low table and flung herself into the sitting chair so she could drum her fingers on the tabletop, hearing a musical beat in her head. She had to hear something along with the sound of her own voice. “I’m not certain if he’s capable of being happy, no matter what he says. He has that place inside him he retreats to where only he can go. I would never really be a part of his life. I’d be . . . lonely. Just the way I’ve always been. I’m so damn tired of being alone. I hurt all the time now. My body is burning up, even before your rising, Flamme. I’m not complaining about you. I’m not. It was already happening. I wanted him. You know I did. Now, having met him, I know one time would never have been enough.”
Her head was pounding again and she wanted to cry. Crying wasn’t going to solve anything. They were in a mess.