Page 357 of Primal Bonds

The geas pulled at Luc. “Bring Adric Savonett to me.”

No. He resisted Blaer’s order, shaking and sweating like a goddamn addict needing a fix.

Blaer would be furious, especially since it was at his suggestion they’d gone to Rock Run first. “Adric will take the river fada straight home,” he’d told her. “We can capture him there.”

But of course, Adric had never showed—which was what Luc had been counting on. Disgusted, Blaer had left Luc the car and ’ported herself and Jon back to their hotel, with instructions for him to meet her in Virginia—with Adric.

If he didn’t return with the alpha, Blaer would want to know why. And she had ways to drag the truth from him.

Then the woman came out—a river fada.

Luc did a doubletake. But yeah, it was Rosana do Rio, with Adric’s scent all over her. Not hard to guess what the two of them had been doing last night.

Even though he’d known she’d visited recently, he was shocked that the alpha had taken a river fada into his den—the same den that was a closely guarded secret from most of Adric’s own clan.

The man was in deep. Way deeper than Luc had realized.

He eyed Rosana. A river fada, and the Rock Run alpha’s sister. For Blaer’s purposes, Rosana do Rio was just as good as Adric. In fact, she might even be better.

And Adric would be safe.

His gaze swung to the do Rio female. Better her than his friend.

Luc might no longer be a member of the Baltimore clan, but Adric would always have his loyalty. The man had rescued him from a living hell. That year Luc had been Leron’s prisoner, he’d been tortured by not only Leron and his lieutenants, but his night-fae allies. He’d barely escaped with his sanity intact.

On the other side of the house, Adric started his bike. Luc took a step toward the street, the geas dragging at him.

No.

Crouching down, he dug his fingers into his scalp and resisted with everything he had until the motorcycle’s engine faded into the other city sounds.

Behind him, Rosana was still in Adric’s backyard. Apparently, her transportation was locked in Adric’s shed.

He rose to his feet.

A female, argued his conscience. A young, innocent female.

Slapping it down like an irritating fly, he loped soundlessly across the lawn—and pounced.

Rosana groaned.

Her throat hurt, both inside and out.

She moved her hand to touch it, and then jolted when she realized her wrists were bound together in front of her. She popped her eyes open.

She was in the backseat of a car. A moving car.

She swung her feet to the floor and struggled upright.

Fuck. Her ankles were bound, too.

The world swung queasily around her. Bile coated the back of her sore throat. She squeezed her eyelids shut and tried not to vomit.

When the world righted itself, a long-limbed, dark-skinned man was regarding her in the rearview mirror with fierce gold eyes. A leather jacket and hoodie lay on the seat beside him, leaving him in a maroon T-shirt that exposed lean, ropey muscles—and the chunk of quartz hanging from his neck.

“Who are you?” The question came out as a rasp. She swallowed and tried again. “And where the fuck are you taking me?”

“There’s water in the pocket in front of you,” he replied, ignoring her questions.

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