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  “Has she bewitched me?” he snarled.

  Cassandra snorted in derision. “Isn’t that typical? Blame the Witch! And I would guess no more than you’ve bewitched her. Well, this is going to complicate matters.” She crossed the room, but paused at the door, her brows furrowed. “You know, I actually think she’s succeeded in making me feel guilty.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to help her?”

  “Probably not. But I will give you until tomorrow to think about cooperating—you won’t be bothered before then. After that, I’ll let Rachel have another go at convincing you.”

  She cast one last lingering look down his naked body then strode out of the room, leaving Tallon staring after her.

  Chapter Five

  Shayla had stalked out of Tallon’s cell, but came to a halt outside the door. Blood pounded in her head, her whole body was rigid with tension. She forced herself to breathe slowly, to push back the rage until it seeped from her, leaving her drained and scared.

  She pressed her forehead against the wall, listening to the low hum of voices inside the cell, letting the conversation flow over her consciousness. Until one word caught her attention—chosen. Emotion had stirred inside her at the sound, a sense of rightness. Could Tallon really be her chosen mate?

  She’d never heard of such a thing, but then, so many of the old ways had been forgotten on Arroway. And there was something between the two of them—a bonding she had never experienced before.

  “Mine.”

  The word had echoed again through her mind. Now hours later, she lay in her room. The image of her mother, alone, perhaps in pain, haunted her mind. She had to get home. Although Cassandra said they didn’t have the power to send her back, something else she had said wouldn’t leave her mind.

  She pulled on her cloak, its familiarity giving her a sense of security. Unlike earlier, her door was unlocked and a faint tremor of unease ran through her. She knew they didn’t trust her, but what choice did she have?

  Darkness was falling as she retraced her footsteps from the afternoon. She saw no one and finally found herself outside the cell. It was also unlocked, and she pushed the door open. Tallon was still shackled to the wall, but he was awake, almost as though he was waiting for her.

  She walked into the cell, coming to a standstill in front of him. She stared up into his dark eyes.

  “Do you believe that I am evil?” she asked.

  He studied her intently, his gaze running over her, searching her face. “The Laws of Segregation state that Witches are inherently evil. That the moon magic is a force that can ultimately destroy the world.”

  A wave of irritation rose inside her. “I’m not asking about what the stupid laws state,” she snapped. “They were written by The Order. Are you incapable of thinking for yourself? Have you been so indoctrinated that you can’t have a single thought that’s your own?” She swallowed her anger down. What good did it do? “I need to know if you think I’m evil.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as he remained silent. Then he shook his head. “No.”

  The fear released its tight grip. For a second, she closed her eyes as relief washed over her. When she opened them, he was still watching her.

  Shayla strode from the room. She heard him call her name but continued on. Outside, a set of keys hung from a small hook. She took them down and returned to the cell. Stepping up close to him, she breathed in deeply, and the musky male scent of him filled her nostrils. She unlocked the manacles that held him chained to the wall.

  His arms dropped to his side, and Tallon released an audible sigh. He rolled his shoulders and rubbed at the circles of raw flesh on his wrists. “Thank you. But you will be in trouble for this.”

  Shayla frowned. “They could have kept me away from here, but they didn’t.”

  Now that he was free, he appeared bigger, more intimidating, more naked. Unable to prevent a quick peek down the length of his long, lean body, she tried to ignore the wave of heat that licked over her. She cleared her throat, swallowed then nodded to his clothes, which lay in a pile in the corner. “Get dressed.”

  A small smile curled his lips. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

  Yes.

  The word hovered on her lips, and she bit it back. Forcing a blank expression, she allowed her gaze to roam over his naked body then up to his face. “I’m not the virgin here,” she snapped. His eyes gleamed and her stomach fluttered. “Okay, yes, you make me uncomfortable.”

  Laughing softly, he padded across the room and pulled on his pants, but left the rest where they lay and came back to her.

  “We need to get out of here,” Shayla said.

  “I think we’re safe until morning. I’ve got until then to think about cooperating, and we need to talk first. I need to understand what you want of me.”

  The truth was, she knew so little about their world. Her life had been spent mainly on the run, hiding with her mother, keeping her true self a secret. Now she needed to understand.

  “I want you to talk to me. I want to understand what happened to Arroway, why it is the way it is. Why The Order have made me out to be a thing of evil to be destroyed.”

  “Come sit with me, then. I’ve been thinking since you left. Trying to make sense of it.”

  He reached out. Shayla’s small hand slid into his, and he led her across the room, sinking down to the floor, tugging her with him. He released her hand, and they sat close but not touching. He rested the back of his head against the wall, gazing at the ceiling, baring the long line of his throat, and her fingers itched to reach out and stroke him. After a minute, he began to speak.

  “I think they are afraid. But I also think they are jealous of the Witches’ power. I saw you weave your magic. It was a thing of great beauty, but also of great power. They are unable to control it, and therefore they seek to destroy it. The cataclysm that nearly destroyed our world gave them the excuse.”

  Despair tugged at her heart. “Then there is no hope?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. There are others like me who may be willing to listen, to try and change things.”

  She bit her lip. “Why did you capture my mother?”

  “She was to be a hostage to bring you in if I failed to find you. The elders told me you were dangerous. That you had already gained strength and the levels of moon magic were once again rising. I believed them.” He sighed. “Now I have met you, I do not doubt that you are dangerous. Just not evil.”

  He reached out and brushed her hair from her face, and she forced herself to hold still while his finger traced the Witch’s mark, the crimson crescent moon that marred her cheek. She gritted her teeth—she hated the mark—its appearance had been the start of all her troubles.

  “When did this appear?” he asked.

  “When I turned twenty-one. Before that, it was easy for us to hide. Afterwards, it was impossible. Besides, I could sense the magic growing inside me. I was scared. My mother had heard rumors of someone who could help me. We were on our way there when we were separated.”

  She held her breath as he stroked down her throat. It felt so good, so right. She wanted nothing more than to forget about everything, close her eyes, and experience the pleasure of those long fingers touching her skin. But she couldn’t. She forced herself to speak.

  “I have to help my mother. I need to return to Arroway, but our magic isn’t strong enough here. Cassandra believes that you could take us home.”

  “My staff is gone. Without it, I can do little.”

  Shayla thought for a moment. The staff must be somewhere in the building. She would find it; it was hard to hide such strong magic. “And if I got it back for you. Would you help me then?”

  She waited in silence while his eyes watched her, considering.

  “What do you want of me, Shayla?”

  “Everything.”

  He smiled slightly at her vehemence. “Everything?”

  “I want you to put right the wrong you did. I want you to
take me back and help me free my mother. I want you to stop the persecution of Witches. To save Arroway.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”

  Shayla thought about his question. The truth was, she wanted so much more. She would never entirely forgive Tallon for capturing her mother, but she couldn’t really blame him. Tallon was a product of their world. He’d done what he believed was right, however misguided that was. And it didn’t change the way she felt. The way she had always felt.

  I want you to love me.

  The words flashed through her mind, but she didn’t say them out loud. Instead, she asked a question of her own.

  “And you? What do you want, Tallon?”

  He answered straight away, and she knew the words came from his heart. “I want to do what’s right.”

  The first flicker of hope awoke inside her. “How will you know what’s right?”

  “For a long time now, I’ve struggled with reconciling myself to The Order and their doctrines. Too many rules. Too much that I sense is wrong. The Order is powerful but they seldom use their magic to help the ordinary people. Our magic is a sacred trust, given for good, but The Order hoards it like misers.

  “And the Witches. I never gave much thought to the slaves, where they came from, their lives. I took what relief they gave my body and welcomed it. Until I found your friend, Leah, trying to take her own life rather than serve us.” He paused for a moment. “You know, the Witch was right.”

  Shayla glanced at him in surprise. “Cassandra?”

  He nodded. “I’d somehow convinced myself that it was some sort of honor for them to service me. Leah taught me otherwise. To find that she would rather end her life than continue as a slave, it was like being ripped in two. Everything I’d been taught, I started to question. I spoke with The Order. They made me see that there were no alternatives. I took the job as Enforcer so I could forget my doubts in the fighting, in hunting The Order’s enemies.”

  “Enemies like me, you mean?”

  He smiled. “No, I never met one like you before. And yesterday, as I first looked at you and thought of you dead at my hands, it seemed so wrong.”

  “Yet you still tried.”

  “And failed. I’m glad—I think it would have destroyed me to kill you. “

  Tension drained from her body and a lightness filled her heart. He felt something for her, and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe he would be hers. She knew then what she would do, and a small fire burst to life in her belly.

  He was studying her in a strange, pensive manner.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Just thinking about something the Witch said. So, what do we do now?”

  “I have to find your staff.”

  “How can you trust me?”

  “Because I believe you’re a good man. Just a little misguided.”

  “How do you know I won’t take you back to Arroway and complete my mission?”

  She smiled then. “Because I’m going to have proof that you have changed.”

  His eyes narrowed on her. “There can be no proof.”

  “Break your vows.”

  “What?”

  She heard the shock in his voice.

  “Lie with me and break your vows to The Order.”

  Chapter Six

  Heat flared to life in his belly at her words. Tallon was glad he’d put his pants on because he could feel himself filling, rising. He stood up, needing to put some space between them while he thought through the consequences.

  But, by the Goddess, he wanted this. More than anything he had ever wanted in his life. Had she bewitched him? He swung around. Shayla was still seated on the floor, her knees hugging her chest, her hair a curtain of dark crimson falling around her shoulders. She appeared unconcerned. He was burning up, and she was so cool. Then she lifted her head, and he realized she wasn’t cool at all. Her eyes were glowing with emerald fire.

  Suddenly, he had to know. “Shayla, do you want me?”

  She opened her mouth then closed it. Her small pointed tongue licked at her lips as she considered her answer, and the flames in his belly burned hotter. “Is this just to give you proof?” he asked. “Or do you want me?”

  He held his breath, waiting for her to speak.

  She allowed her gaze to wander over him like a physical touch. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you,” she replied. “I was twelve, a child, I didn’t understand. But I’m not a child now. You tried to kill me. And I’m not sure I will ever forgive you for turning in my mother, but I still want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

  “I’m no virgin,” she continued. “I’ve had lovers, from the time I was sixteen. They kept the magic at bay, helped me control it. But I always thought of you. I think you bewitched me that first time.”

  Tallon started at her use of the word that was so much in his mind. “Perhaps we have bewitched each other.”

  He took a step closer and reached out his hand for her, her small fingers closed around his, and he pulled her to her feet.

  Shayla stood before him. A fine tremor ran through her body, tightening her muscles. Tallon wanted her. It was clear in the glitter of his dark eyes, and the knowledge made her melt. She could feel her own arousal, her sex hot and swollen with need, her nipples taut with anticipation.

  She reached out her free hand and stroked her fingers down over the twin scars made by Cassandra’s weapon. His chest was smooth as satin, ridged belly lightly furred. She swayed into him.

  He’d gone still at her touch, now he released her hand and reached out and framed her face, tilting it up him. Shayla held her breath as he leaned in towards her. His mouth touched hers, almost chaste at first, then he licked at her lower lip, tasting, teasing and she opened for him. He slipped inside, his tongue hot and moist, and a wave of heat washed over her, leaving her legs trembling. She gripped his shoulders, giving herself up to his kiss. His mouth hardened on hers, his tongue thrusting, filling her with the flavor him.

  She dug her nails into the skin of his shoulder, and he went still above her. He pulled back slightly, giving her space, and she found she was panting, her breath coming short and fast.

  He studied the bare room. “I wish there was somewhere I could take you. This should be outside, in the clean air, under a crimson moon.”

  An image sprang into Shayla’s mind; the two of them lying locked together, under the witches’ moons, bathed in their radiance. “One day,” she said, “but this will do for now.” Removing her cloak, she spread it on the floor.

  She’d never had a virgin before. Would she have to lead him all the way? The thought of teaching Tallon to make love sent a wave of weakness over her. She glanced up at him. He was still watching her, his heavy-lidded eyes flicking between her and the bed she had made for them.

  “You’ll have to show me what to do, Shayla,” he said, and her heart started racing at the thought.

  She gripped the hem of her top and pulled it over her head. His gaze burned a trail across her bare breasts, and the nipples grew taut. She flicked open the button on her jeans and slid down the zipper. Tallon stepped towards her. When he was within touching distance, he reached out and trailed a finger over one distended nipple. She gasped and arched her back, wanting more. Instead, he sank to his knees in front of her, and a flash of shock hit her in the gut. Tugging at his hair, she managed to pull back his head so he had no choice but to look up into her face.

  “Tallon, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “I have taken so much pleasure and given nothing back. I need to please you.”

  He slid the tight jeans down over her hips and slender thighs. She kicked off her shoes and allowed him to remove them so she stood before him dressed only in the brief underwear Cassandra had given her—black, lacy, and hiding nothing.

  He leaned forward, inhaling her scent, his warm breath teasing her. Then he kissed her through the b
lack lace and flames licked at her flesh.

  “Besides,” he murmured against her, “I want to do this.”

  She closed her eyes as he kissed her again. His hands were on her, pushing her legs apart, his mouth trailing wet promises across the skin of her inner thighs. She swayed, gripping his shoulder for balance as the hot wetness of his tongue snaked beneath the lace to tease her swollen flesh. She groaned and he went still, pulling away slightly.

  “Tell me what to do, Shayla.”

  “Don’t stop,” she muttered. “You’re doing everything perfectly, just don’t stop.”

  She heard him laugh softly. But he did stop, and she moaned in protest. He rose to his feet, and picked her up in his arms. He took the few paces and lowered her gently onto her cloak. She had no time for anything as he stripped off his pants and sank down beside her. He reached for her, dragging the scrap of lace from her body and tossing it to the floor.

  He took hold of her ankles, spreading them wide, and for long moments, his heated gaze fed on her. His hands slid up the length of her legs to the juncture of her thighs. His long fingers glided over the sensitive flesh, parting the folds of her sex.

  “So pretty,” he crooned. “So hot.”

  He came down to her slowly. His warm breath feathering against her, his tongue licking along the length of her sex, and heat flashed through her body. He hit the most responsive spot, and she bucked against his mouth. He paused at her reaction, honing in on the sensitive nub, his tongue sliding wetly over her until the world was reduced to nothing more than his mouth moving over her flesh. She moaned as she sensed him reading her reactions, stroking harder, faster, in response to her sounds of pleasure. He raised his head.

  “More?” he whispered against her.

  In reply, she reached out, stroked her fingers through his silky black hair, and pulled him against her. He teased her as his confidence grew, licking lightly, sliding lazy circles around her until she twisted her hands in his hair in protest. The pleasure was building inside her. She shifted beneath him trying to force him to touch her where she needed it the most, but he held her in place with ease.