know if the pale marble perfection could possibly feel as warm and silken soft as it appeared.
As the blood pounded through his body, his mind recoiled at the turn of his thoughts. She was casting some kind of enchantment over him. There was no other explanation. With more roughness than he'd intended, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, her hands still tied in front of her.
"Let's go, Princess."
"No." To his surprise, she fought him, digging in her heels. That touch of humor had vanished, her eyes snapping with pride and anger. "Free me entirely, human. I'm tired of being bound."
He met those brilliant eyes, for a moment stumbling into their green depths before he found his footing and steeled himself with his own anger.
"As long as you're near anyone with a death mark, you're staying tied."
"I'm not a fool. I'm not going to harm my allies. Charlie is my way to the stones."
"He was. Now we all are. I'm thinking you might consider him expendable."
"And what would you do if I killed him here and now?" Her words cut as she lifted her chin and stared at him.
Ignoring the unfortunate attraction still pounding through his veins, he tightened his grip on her arm, yanking her around until he was fully in her face. "If you harm my brother in any way, the gates be damned. I'll kill you."
She nodded calmly. "Which is why I would be a fool to try to harm him. I don't care that he has a death mark." One blond eyebrow rose. "I might even be inclined to forgive the mark once I have my stones."
He stilled. "You can remove death marks?"
"I can, as the rightful queen."
"Then do it."
"I need the draggon stone."
He grunted and turned, dragging her with him toward the door. "Convenient, Princess."
"You believe I'm lying? The draggon stone answers to royal blood and always has. Within it lies my power."
"You haven't had the draggon stone in fifteen centuries. Forgive me for having a hard time believing you'd have left the source of your power with us, where not even your queen could find it."
She didn't answer for a moment and when she did her voice was low and subdued. "I did what I had to do."
He glanced at her, trying to figure her out...trying to ignore her feminine assault on his senses. "So when we get you back to D.C., if we allow you to touch the draggon stone, you can forgive all the death marks?"
"If you allow me to touch the stone? The stone is mine, human. As the rightful queen, they're all mine."
"That wasn't my question."
Temper flared in her eyes. "Yes, I can forgive the death marks."
"Will you?"
She looked up at him, the light of challenge quickly eclipsing the anger in her eyes. Slowly, her mouth began to curl upward in an intriguing shadow of a smile that charged the already electric air between them.
"Allies help one another," she purred. "Perhaps you should be trying to convince me you're my ally, and not my enemy. Free me."
"You ask too much, Princess. I don't trust any Esri." Especially one powerful enough to weave a sensual spell over a Sitheen, for that was exactly what she had to be doing. There was no way he'd be attracted to an Esri otherwise. Not when he knew the evil they were capable of. Not when his own daughter suffered still. But despite everything logical and right, he was definitely, horrifyingly attracted to this woman.
* * *
Ilaria clenched her jaw tight as the human propelled her down the hotel's hallway. She was infuriated that he insisted on keeping her tied like a common slave. Never had humans treated her so poorly. In the old days, they'd revered her. Then again, these were no ordinary humans. They were Sitheen. Humans with a trace of Esri blood who could be neither enchanted nor tricked with glamour.
Worse, these Sitheen knew the death chant...and how to use it. Two thousand years she'd lived, yet they could destroy her in seconds.
Yes, they maddened and infuriated her, but sweet Esria, that wasn't all.
Striding beside her, tall and strong, Harrison's nearness caressed her skin with a tingling pleasure. Even through her sleeve, she felt his fingers curled around her arm, warm and fierce, yet surprisingly gentle. In the air between them, desire thickened, awareness sizzled.
When was the last time she'd felt desire like this for a male? Not for as long as she could remember. Yet despite his sharp,