“Then how is it you think this lycan hunter can save you?”

She hated his even, placating tone, as if he were trying to prove something logical to a child who failed to see reason.

“What other hope do I have?”

“Me,” he volunteered, his gaze drilling into her, his arctic eyes intense.

With his earlier avowal that they would mate ringing in her ears, she said, “No, thanks.”

“I’m offering you protection. I can keep you from killing. Your soul doesn’t have to be lost.”

Claire split an oven-warm roll in half, tendrils of steam rising from it. “Like yours is.”

He nodded. “No one ever offered me such a chance. It wasn’t even available to me when I first turned.”

“And when was that?”

“The year 790. I was a monk at Lindisfarne Abbey.”

“A monk?”

His lips curved. “I suppose that would be hard for you to believe. A servant of God now damned for eternity.” His smile slipped. “We often took in pilgrims. We asked little of them, simply provided them with food and shelter. One night we took in a group. They were lycans. They attacked us in our beds. It was a blood orgy.”

“What happened to the other monks?”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Historically, Vikings were attributed with razing the monastery to the ground.”

“And that first full moon you fed?”

“Yes. And for countless moons after. I was lost to the curse.”

“What made you stop?”

He averted his face, staring toward the French doors and the branches dancing in the breeze. “Someone died that shouldn’t have. I extended my protection to a human, made it known within my pack that no harm was to come to her.”

“And your pack killed her anyway?”

His silver gaze cut back to her. “No. But they made certain I did.”

A chill blew through her heart at his words. “Can you guarantee I’ll never escape? That I’ll never infect someone else, even accidentally?”

“There are no such guarantees.”

She leaned back in her chair, dropping her fork onto her plate with a clatter, frustration getting the better of her. “Then let me go. If Gideon can’t help me, I’ll gladly let him kill me. I won’t risk innocent lives. You should understand that.”

“It’s your heart talking, not your head.” He shook his head fiercely, black hair shaking wildly. “I won’t release you. The day will come that you will appreciate what I’m doing.”

“Stop treating me like a child who doesn’t know any better.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

“If you do this to me…” Claire paused to gain control of her wavering voice. “I’ll hate you every day that we’re together.”

“I’ll take that chance.”