Squaring her shoulders and taking comfort in Gideon’s scent, she faced Darius. “What a lovely jail. You’ll have to give me the name of your decorator.”

“I want you to be comfortable,” he said politely, gesturing to the room with an elegant sweep of his hand.

“So that your pack of wolves can ravish me in luxury?”

“There are no other lycans here save us.”

“I’m not like you,” she shot back, motioning at him with a desperate wave.

“I know.” His gaze raked her. “That’s why I want you.”

Her bare toes curled into the plush carpet and she inhaled deeply, steeling herself against that hungry appraisal, more terrified by that one look than all his manhandling. There was no mistaking the carnal interest blazing in those icy eyes.

He advanced on her slowly, like a cat stalking its prey. “I couldn’t forget you. You’re different. You’re not like the others—”

“What about your pack?” She moved back a step for every step he took in her direction. “Werewolves aren’t monogamous. You want me, but that means I would have to—” She struggled to say it. “Mate with the others.” She shook her head vigorously. “No thanks.”

He nodded as though he approved. “Someone’s been teaching you about lycans.”

“That’s right.” She bumped into a dresser and slid along it, her hands feeling the smooth wood drawers behind her. Still moving, always moving. “I know enough to know that I won’t be one of your kind—”

“You already are.”

“No! I won’t mate like a dog in heat with your pack—”

“I told you. I’m the only one here. And I’m not sharing you with anyone.” His lips curved. “I’m keeping you for myself.”

She frowned. “What do you mean you’re the only one? Every wolf has a pack.”

“Not me.”

A lone wolf? Without a pack? Gideon had never mentioned such a possibility.

She angled her head suspiciously. “Why not?”

“Like you… I’m different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t feed.”

Despite everything Gideon had explained to her about the nature of lycans, hope unfurled in her chest. This lycan didn’t feed? Maybe Gideon didn’t know everything. Maybe a lycan could resist the insatiable need to kill. Maybe she could live as a werewolf and avoid eternal damnation. Maybe she and Gideon could be together.

She edged closer to Darius, hands clasped as if in prayer. “You’ve never fed?”

His smile vanished and his silver eyes shone with an almost angry light. “I didn’t say that.”

She dropped her hands and took a step back, disappointment welling up inside her again. “Then you’re no different. You’re a killer. Damned. An animal like the rest of them.”