Page 72 of The Edge of Dawn

Like a supernova.

Noali and her people had better teach her to suppress her aura soon because she was going to start attracting attention from dark corners of the Universe.

She was probably giving away their position right now.

Ashrael would be aware. Didn’t he care? Didn’t Tarak?

He, who was so accustomed to secrecy, always shrouding himself in a cloak of invisibility, didn’t understand it at all.

“Come in,” she called from behind the Qualum doors, her voice as clear as the cold skies on Kythia. “And make sure the doors… stay open.”

On the surface, she was calm, almost imperious, but her aura was trembling.

She was… afraid of him.

She hadn’t been this way before, but now she radiated tension and fear, just like when they’d first met.

He probably had himself to blame. He’d entered her chambers without seeking permission, partly because he’d presumed she would be comfortable with him—back there on the cruiser, she’d been so unguarded with him and refreshingly bold—and partly because he simply hadn’t realized that humans had customs around entry and privacy and the various states of dress or undress.

His kind didn’t really have any qualms about being naked—they dressed for functional purposes, to denote rank, and to conceal themselves when necessary.

But humans apparently did.

In his preoccupied state, he hadn’t realized she was in the sanitation chamber until he was standing in her quarters extending his senses outwards, and all of a sudden, he was slapped in the face with the most wickedly delicious scent—her essence, mixed with a sweet floral fragrance that reminded him of jungles on distant planets.

It was utterly intoxicating.

For a moment, he’d forgotten himself.

How the fuck had that happened?

He knew how.

It had started back there, on the cruiser that brought her here from Earth when she was asleep. When he’d watched over her.

No, it was before that. When he’d taken her to Zyara for treatment. When he’d felt responsible for her injuries and insisted on the very best.

She’d endured so well in spite of her helplessness.

No, in truth, it was before that… back there in the underground caves of the hot Earth desert.

Her power. Her wild, swirling essence…

It had… done something to him, especially when her ka’qui had exploded in a torrent of overwhelming force.

For a moment, he’d been engulfed by her power, and although he was easily able to put up his shields, he could admit that part of him was in awe.

Even the Mistress—may she rot in the Nine Hells—couldn’t have matched the intensity of Jade’s ka’qui.

He held the memory of that moment in his mind as he re-entered her chambers, the Qualum doors unraveling as he passed. He uttered a soft command—stay—making sure they wouldn’t close behind him. If she wanted them open, then so be it.

It hadn’t occurred to him that she might still be nervous in his presence, but when he thought about it, it made perfect sense.

Being around her made him forget…

What he was.

He stepped inside, walking slowly, gently casting forth with his ka’qui.

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