It wasn’t.

He stood in front of the door to my bathroom, wearing the same duster jacket from the night before. A mane of blond hair stuck out from underneath a cowboy hat. The sudden image of a lion crouching, waiting for its prey to stumble into its sight, flashed before me.

I realized a split second later I was the prey.

The lion sprang before I even had the chance to release the scream building in my throat. He didn’t say anything, but the look of fierce determination as he moved toward me, arms outstretched, said it all. Panic quickly turned into something else as I jerked back against the wall. Fury and desperation welled, spinning and bubbling over.

He reached for me.

Instead of touching him, I grabbed the lamp off the bedside table and hurled it at him. The base of the lamp struck his head, making a sickening thud and knocking off the cowboy hat.

The cowboy fell to the floor, unmoving.

“Well… that wasn’t necessary,” drawled a deep voice that tugged at my memory.

I shrieked and spun around.

Standing in my hallway was Hayden Cromwell. He held his hands out in front of him. “I don’t mean you any harm, Ember. I’m here to help you.”

“Help me?” I stepped back, brushing against the man’s leg. My stomach turned over as I looked at him. The cowboy hat lay beside him. Blood matted his blond hair. When had I become so violent? Had I always been this way?

“Don’t look at him, Ember. Look at me.”

It was like being compelled. I had no choice but to look at him. “Where is my sister?”

“Everything is fine. Your sister is safe. We have her—”

All I heard was the last three words. I lunged at him. He didn’t even move out of the way. He simply caught my hand in his and squeezed gently.

The act knocked the air and common sense right out of me. This—this was what I’d been yearning for. A simple touch, a brushing of skin without hurting someone, and it was everything I thought it would be. Strength. Warmth. Humanity.

All in one simple touch.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered hoarsely. My gaze locked on his hands. His fingers were long and graceful-looking. They were strong.

“I’m absorbing your gift,” he said. “I’m like you, Ember. Gifted.”

I lifted my eyes, and saw the proud lines of his face tense. Hayden’s fingers left my hand and slid under the cuff of my sweater. His touch was scalding, and my skin tingled wherever his fingers went.

Dizziness swept through me, and Hayden seemed to sway. The room spun. I blinked, but everything still moved. Panic squeezed my heart as I tried to pull my arm away, but he held on.

“What are you doing to…?” I couldn’t remember what I was saying.

“I’m sorry, but this is the only way,” Hayden said, sounding like he truly was. “We’re going to help you.” He placed his other hand on my cheek. “It’s going to be okay. Trust me, Ember.”