With his free hand, he tenderly smoothed a lock of hair from her cheek. The inky color of the strands—so different from a typical Adwaewethian—mesmerized him.

Nola leaned into the caress, snagging his gaze. Her lips parted, freeing a moan.

The beast faded to the background as Nola permeated his senses, her vulnerability like a mating call. Except, the song had a resonant frequency strong enough to shatter glass—and any resistance he’d built. A ferocious need to bed her invaded his every thought.

“Your nose is burned.” But not blistered. Perhaps Aveline had created her super-beasts at last, able to tolerate the sun.

He bent his head and sniffed the column of Nola’s neck, and had to cut off a groan. The sun had scented her skin and hair, warmth pulsing from her body.

He grew harder. “You are not sensitive to sunlight.”

“I’m not, no, though I do burn easily.”

Oh, yes. Aveline had her super-beasts. Too bad she would lose them to the new queen. “That’s an Adwaewethian trait.”

“Good to know. But, uh, I believe we had other business matters to discuss?”

She seeks pleasure? Resist!

Damn it! She was temptation made flesh, forbidden fruit, and he’d never been so ravenous. “I want to slide my hand into your panties, but I won’t,” he said, praying he had the strength to follow through. What he wanted wasn’t what either of them needed. Instead, they would stay focused and complete their tasks.

Kill Zion, win the wand. Train Nola in self-defense. Save Vale. Perform Nola’s Blood Rite. Win the All War.

He thought he’d found a way to save the sister, but he needed her cooperation.

Disappointment flashed over Nola’s features. Then she rallied, leaning into him, pressing her new claws into his pectorals.

Desire sharpened inside him. She placed her mouth over his ear and whispered, “Someone is all smolder and no action, huh?” When she pulled back, she nipped at his earlobe. Then she trekked her gaze down his abdomen and lingered on the erection strangling the fly of his pants. Another dark passion-flush spilled over her cheeks. “Or do you want to hear me beg?”

Resist her allure. Ignore the challenge of her words. Bane plucked her metal claws free of his skin—a travesty—stood and took a step back. “We mustn’t do this.”

The disappointment returned, the stars in her eyes dulling. “Who’s the weakling now?” she taunted, and came to her feet.