Page 121 of Lake of Sorrow

Despite the danger, she stood naked before him, decorated in tufts of fur that drew the eye—drew his eye—to her female anatomy.

“We can’t do this, Vlerion.” Kaylina backed down the beach.

The vague memory that someone was controlling the situation came to her. This was a test. One they dared not fail. Because if he became a beast in this vision, he might become a beast in reality too. And he would kill her.

“I will have you,” Vlerion growled, his gaze roaming her body, lingering on her breasts but also on her hand.

A plant-shaped brand glowed from her skin. Kaylina stared. It had never done that before, not that she’d seen, but a distinct green light emanated from the mark. More, a barely visible glowing tendril stretched from the back of her hand through the air to Vlerion. It ended at his chest and, like a fishing hook on a line, drew him toward her.

“In general, I’d be agreeable to that,” Kaylina said, “but not now.”

She kept backing up, but Vlerion was gaining on her. Her heel came down on softer ground. She’d reached the end of the beach, and the reeds and mud threatened to bog her down if she continued. Meanwhile, Vlerion prowled closer, like a panther about to spring on his prey.

“We’re being manipulated.” Kaylina lifted her hands. “Don’t you remember? It’s a test. The taybarri are testing us. They’re testing you.”

She might be a part of it, but this was about Vlerion. They were using her to test him, to try to make him fail. That irritated her, but she didn’t know how to stop it.

Vlerion’s brow furrowed, as if she’d reminded him of something, but he couldn’t quite remember.

“You’ll turn into the beast, and the taybarri won’t help us. They’ll run away, and you’ll have only me, and you might kill me.”

“I will not kill you, but I will have you,” he growled, coming ever closer, his hard body as dangerous as it was appealing.

She couldn’t look away. He was mesmerizing, and if he kissed her, if he touched her in any way, she would forget herself and give in to his desire. Their desire. Even now, his savage lustful gaze made her body heat and tighten with longing, with the certainty that he would give her greater pleasure than she’d ever known.

“No.” Kaylina wrenched her gaze from him, glimpsing her brand again, the tendril drawing Vlerion closer. Was that always there, but this was the only time she’d been able to see it?

Less than five paces away, Vlerion crouched, poised to spring, to take her to the beach under him.

Even as her body reveled at the idea, excitement making her long to rush to meet him, she spun toward the mud. She snatched some up and slathered it over the back of her hand.

At first, her only thought was that if she covered up the brand, the glow might stop, the magical pull it had on him would go away. Then it occurred to her that he might not find her as sexy if she were entirely covered in mud.

She waded into it, the cool stuff sucking at her feet, and used both arms to grab handfuls. She slathered it over her breasts and thighs while flinging off the fur decorations. Lastly, she rubbed it in her hair.

Vlerion, still poised to spring, watched. That furrow had returned to his brow.

She smeared more onto her hand, wishing she could rip the brand off. At least she no longer saw the glow or the tendril of power drifting from it.

Wary of his reaction, Kaylina looked into Vlerion’s eyes.

“Are you trying to… cover up your allure?” he asked.

The savage glint in his eyes had faded. He seemed more like himself.

“Among other things, yes.” She put her hand behind her back. Then, spotting a few reeds, she snatched them up and thrust them into her muddy hair like bug antennae.

Vlerion smiled, amusement replacing the lust. His taut body suggested it hadn’t disappeared entirely, but maybe, with the brand covered, he wasn’t so enamored with her—with the druid magic.

His gaze drifted to the reed antennae. “You’re a unique soul, Kaylina Korbian.”

“Yes, I am.”

“And you keep trying to help me.” His gaze shifted to her face, a fondness in his eyes that warmed her in a different way than thoughts of being intimate with him.

“I like you, pirate.”

He snorted.

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