Whatever the reason, his impact was formidable today. It was even more intense than the first time I’d encountered him, when I’d had no idea what he was. My legs felt weak. My breasts were heavy, aching, and my nipples burned. I wanted sex, needed sex. Violently. Had to have it. Didn’t care about repercussions. I wanted to fuck and fuck until I couldn’t move. Hadn’t he said he could give it to me without hurting me? Mute himself, protect me from being harmed or changed?

“Turn it off,” I forced myself to say, but I was smiling when I said it, and my command lacked heat.

I was so relieved to see him!

My sweater was on the floor. I bent to pick it up.

He moved from the shaft of brilliant sunlight and glided up the stairs. “Sidhe-seer,” he said.

As the door closed behind him, and the anteroom returned to its dimly lit state, my pupils dilated, adjusted, and I realized my error. Gasping, I took a step back. “You’re not V’lane!”

The exotic prince’s gaze fixed on my breasts, sculpted by a lacy bra. I pressed my sweater to my chest. He made a sound deep in his throat and my knees buckled with sexual anticipation. Only with immense effort did I remain standing. I wanted to be on my knees. I should be on my knees. He wanted me on my knees. And hands. My head was vacuumed of thought. My lips and legs moved apart.

He stepped closer.

I fought a frantic battle with myself, managed to step back.

“No,” he said. “I am not.” Lids lowered over alien, ancient eyes, lifted. “Whatever that is.”

“Wh-who are you?” I stammered.

He took another step forward.

I took another step back. There went my sweater again. Shit.

“The end,” he said simply.

The doors leading to the inner sanctum opened behind me. I felt the draft of passage, and more of the strange, disturbing scent filled my nostrils.

Lust sledgehammered me, front and rear.

“We are all the end,” a cold voice floated over my shoulder. “And beginning. Soon. Later. After.”

“Time. Irrelevant,” the other replied. “Round is round.”

“We are always. You are not.”