My head snaps to the spot of grass where the lightning hit. It’s a smoldering patch of black by the fountain’s edge. “Did you see that?” This is the third time lightning strikes when I feel strong emotions around Lincoln. Even I’m having a hard time pretending it’s a coincidence.

“No.” Lincoln kisses my neck, then gently bites my earlobe. My legs go wobbly beneath me.

“But Lincoln, aren’t you worried about the–”

He frames my face with his fingertips. “No.” Fire burns in his mismatched eyes. “Kiss me, Myla.”

A smile tugs at the edge of my mouth. That’s one helluva good idea. I lean in and taste him, my need flaring hotter. Lincoln grips my waist, grinding our hips in rhythm. I feel his length, hard and ready, pressing against me through his leather pants. Each new thrust is a jolt of raw pleasure. The world collapses until there’s nothing but our mouths, our bodies, and longing. He leaves in two days for Antrum. Who knows when I’ll see him again, taste him again? No time to wait. My lust instinct runs wild, its power overriding anything else.

I slide off the lip of the fountain, landing on the cool grass. Looking down, I curl my hands around the bottom of my tunic, ready to strip it off.

That’s when I feel it. Heat around my eyes. My irises are glowing red. That’s never happened before when I’ve felt lust, only wrath. Although, come to think of it, I’ve never really felt lusty about a guy before.

I stop moving, careful to keep my head down. This is the dark side of inheriting both the classic Furor traits: wrath and lust. I stare at my fingers as they clutch the tunic’s hem. “I think we should stop now.” My breath is low and shaky. I’m no wiz at controlling my wrath, and I’ve been working at that all my life. Now lust? My first kiss was weeks ago. Tonight, I almost stripped down and did who-knows-what with Lincoln. That’s not who I want to be.

Lincoln sets his hand on my arm. “What’s wrong, Myla?”

I bite my bottom lip, careful to keep my head down and eyes hidden. Part of me wants to run for it, the other part wants to kiss him again. Badly. Stupid lust demon.

Lincoln sets his knuckle under my chin. With a gentle nudge, he tries to guide my gaze to his. I’m having none of it.

“That’s not a good idea, Lincoln.”

The Prince leans over, twisting so he can peep into my face. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Your eyes are changing. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s my Furor lust side.” My voice shakes a bit. “I’ve only ever felt wrath before.”