As if her whirling thoughts had pulled him from his sleep, Kain groaned into her hair a few moments later. Then one of his oversized hands slid up her bare stomach to round over a breast.

Selma flinched despite the lazy simmer of lust low in her belly, her thigh bumping into something hard that scraped tantalizingly against her skin.

His spiked dick.

Oh, God.

She may have already been up close and personal with the large male fondling her in his sleep, but she'd been lost in the ring’s curse. Feeling him shift against her, touching her so intimately, reminded her that he was truly a stranger… and that she was at his mercy.

His groan turned to a rumble that vibrated through his chest. He kissed the top of her head as if he sensed her panic even in his sleep and tried to soothe her, but after a few seconds, he stopped. He was awake.

Withdrawing his hands from her body, he rolled off her. “Are you okay?” His voice was gruff, and not entirely from sleep.

Selma dared a look up, truly taking the Lord in for the first time. His features were all angles and sharp masculinity, too strong to be called beautiful, though they were softened by his full lips. She could still sense the otherness vibrating from him like she had in the bar, his power almost too much for her brand to blind her to his true form.

He was an attractive man, even if she knew what he was. Rough and big, with stubble on his chin, hair the color of rich mahogany, and eyes so dark they looked pitch-black even in the dim morning light. Three deep scratches marred his right cheek, and dried blood crusted on the shirt he’d kept on while they slept.

“I am.” It came out as little more than a whisper. “Thank you for… saving me.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks as he briefly let his eyes slide over her naked body. Now that she was no longer wrapped up in his warm embrace, she felt cold and exposed lying uncovered next to this stranger, and she couldn't stop her arms from moving to hide her breasts and sex.

Kain heaved a deep sigh before he rolled over with his back to her and sat up. “Go take a shower, little one. The bathroom is past the door by the mirror. When you’re done, we’ll talk.”

Talk. Selma watched him rise and walk out the door opposite the end of the bed—the end, where one of the intricately carved bedposts had been broken off—and frowned. No doubt he would either force her to the auction she’d run from, or…

Or he would realize what she was and would try to claim her for himself.