Page 7 of Fury of Affliction

His wound needed lancing.

She’d taken her shot by asking Daimler to babysit Violet, then cornering Sloan in the Hub. But now, with his heart pounding and grip on her firming, nerves got the better of her. Was she being too pushy? Too aggressive? Not direct enough? Would saying the same thing a different way garner the results she wanted…and he needed?

Hard to know, but one thing for sure—now that she’d started, she couldn’t back down. She wanted to do right by her mate, which meant following through. No matter how painful the process or the wreckage in the aftermath, she was committed to the crash.

She sensed the spiral coming. Could feel the tidal wave of grief as recall forced him to relive that night.

“Sloan?”

He made a sound in the back of his throat. Agonizing. Awful. So stark, she pressed closer, fisting her hands in the back of his t-shirt.

“I’m here,” she whispered, holding him tight. “I’m not going anywhere. Take your time.”

“He was so tiny, Theo. So vulnerable without me and…” His voice broke as memory took over. His body stayed with her, in her arms, warming her through, but his mind…God. His mind went somewhere else. “I wasn’t there. I didn’t protect him.”

She murmured reassurances. Not enough. Barely anything. Feeling helpless as he traveled into a wasteland full of torment.

He swayed against her, anguish threatening to take his knees out.

Her arms tightened around him.

“I can’t. I can’t,” Sloan rasped, clinging to her like a drowning man would a life raft. “There are no words. No right ones.”

“Then don’t use them. Show me instead.”

“I don’t want you to have that image in your head.”

“I want to meet him,” she said, holding the line, refusing to back down. “Let me meet your son, honey.”

Another agonized sound.

A moment of hesitation, then…

He drew a deep breath and stopped resisting. Turning his face into her hair, he slid his hands beneath her shirt. His calloused palms whispered across her bare back. One went high. The other swept low, slipping beneath the hem of her lace underwear to cup her behind. Pleasure shivered through her, bringing relief but also telling a story so heartbreaking, the edges of perception darkened.

She closed her eyes and nestled closer, pressing her breasts to his chest and her head beneath his chin. Lips moving against his throat, she encouraged him to be brave. To let her help carry the load.

Taunt muscles flexed around her. He released a shaky breath, and she braced. The world fell away, leaving her suspended in space, narrowing until she knew nothing but him. The cold floor beneath her feet ceased to exist. The low hum in the computer lab disappeared. Now she floated, warm inhis arms, safe in his sphere as he connected in ways only a Dragonkind warrior could.

The Meridian, the source that nourished all living things, flexed.

The pulse rippled across the gateway of her mind.

Warm current ran up her spine. Pleasure curled deep. Satisfaction rose hard. A second later, Sloan slipped inside her mind. He hovered a moment, allowing her adjust, then…

Mental tether hooks struck. He tugged, testing the connection. Breathtaking beauty trickled through, stealing her breathe. As the intensity rose, he turned a mental dial, upping the wattage, forging deeper, melding his consciousness with hers.

Instinct wanted her to fight the invasion. Experience stilled the need. She accepted what he offered with gratitude, drifting into a riptide of emotion, leaning into the power of energy-fuse, holding him steady, following where he led.

Energy-fuse. God. Incredible. Unlike anything she’d ever felt, but knew now, she couldn’t live without. Terrifying in some ways. The most natural thing in the world in others. The bond she shared with Sloan was strong. Unbreakable. Present in all she did, but occupying the same cerebral space with him counted as something else. Something more. Something better.

She shivered as sensation tunneled, drawing her away from the here and now. She landed in another place and time. South Texas. Eleven years ago. In the heat and dust, inside a city she’d never visited yet felt familiar.

Tangled up with Sloan, she sank further into his flow, becoming him, abandoning herself as memory pushed images into her head. Tuned in, she watched the pictures flash on her mental screen. A black-haired beauty laughing. Light brown skin kissed by the wandering fingers of a full moon. Baby belly rounding out a tight t-shirt. Dark eyes sparking up at her.

Amanda.

Her name wasAmanda.

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