Page 50 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

The books documented only Immortals. None mentioned humans, for whom the symptoms would surely be more devastating, taking longer to heal or never healing.

Sinking deeper into the cushions, Madeline closed her eyes to think, hating that her actions were no longer her own. Instead, her damaged brain controlled them. Her situation was worse than her childhood had been. A psychiatrist had once told her the behaviors she’d learned in her youth had served her well. But no longer, he’d said. She had to develop positive behaviors rather than keep the extreme survival ones. So, rather than accept chaos, she had ordered her life, creating new behaviors.

How did Dom figure into this nightmare? Was he only an obsession planted by Praevus, or was he more? With absolute certainty, she knew he was more. Maybe it was Syc-think that had made her try to go down on him, but the desire was genuine. And she knew he wanted her, but since he thought she didn’t have control over her actions, he nobly rejected her.

Madeline shot upright. Having once fought hard to control her actions and surroundings, she’d beaten the odds. She’d do it again. This shit was not going to take her down. And it wouldn’t keep her from having a relationship with Dom.

If she wanted one. If he wanted one.

The silent declaration cleared her head, reinforcing a temporary freedom from Praevus’s wiles.

Madeline refused to give up or give in.

Tired of reading, she set aside the books and scrubbed the kitchen floor, fluffed all the pillows in the salon twice, organized Dom’s closet, polished his boots, and then sat in a corner with her knees bent and her arms clasped around them as she pined for her assassin. She was having a Syc moment. A very long-lasting moment. Her obsession with Dom drove all other thoughts from her head.

Where was he? What did he want her to do? How could she please him?

She was a ping-pong ball at the mercy of the players.

Ping, I’m Syc. Pong, I’m Sane.

Chapter Fourteen

Light turned to darkas Madeline waited for Dom’s return. Again. Was he having an I-gotta-get-out-of-here moment or scouring Vast and Angor for signs of Praevus or the others she’d heard mentioned—Michael, Lucian, Harmony?

On days when she was lucid, she begged Dom to take her home. He always said, “No. Not yet.” Of course, when she was Syc, she wanted to stay to serve him. In all ways possible.

Today, tired of shared furtive glances, withheld touches, and long sighs, she had a plan. Certain her re-wired brain was working right, she planted herself in Dom’s bed. Resting on her side, she cocked her elbow, put her head in her palm, and bent her knee. Very seductive in the transparent nighty.

Madeline didn’t belong in Angor. Her life wasn’t here. Nonetheless, she was drawn to the grim Immortal who had saved her. Was it gratitude?Maybe. Was it that she was a Sycophant?Not right now. Her feelings for him were complicated.

They were real. If not real, at least they were curative.Yep. Madeline planned to use sex with the black-winged assassin to soothe her shattered nerves. Then when given the all-clear, she’d be ready to go home. No regrets.

She heard the swoosh of Dom’s wings, and her heart beat a staccato rhythm in her chest. Madeline was no shy virgin, but she wasn’t promiscuous either. The excitement of the first time with a guy made her nervous. The tentative exploring of bodies. The kissing. The slow build followed by an explosion. Those times were magic.

Yep.

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