A halo of gold lightning surrounds her turquoise iris. I stare, transfixed, as her eyes flash and sparkle, the vivid electricity weaving throughout the blue. I suck in a breath. Impossible—she has the eyes of the gods. Something I’ve not witnessed in millennia, something no human has ever owned.

“That’s for not thanking me,” she whispers. She blinks, and the gold disappears, making me wonder if I’d imagined it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Natia

Taurus—one of the strongest signs of the Zodiac. Meaning your chances of winning against one is probably not worth the risk.

“Can I have my sheet back, please?” I tug it out from where Archan is perched on the bed. He kneels on the floor and covers me with more blankets. I glance at him, amused. He raises an eyebrow, and I point at him. “You being down there—it’s a good start.”

Nathan clears his throat, looking embarrassed.

I can’t resist toying with him. “Aw, Nathan, you can be my bridesmaid. You don’t need to ask.” Archan puts his head on the bed, his body quaking with silent laughter.

Zac barges into the room with three other men. I only know Barney. They stare at me in disbelief. I look down to double check the blankets haven’t fallen, giving them a show. No, all good here.

“How? What? When?” Zac stumbles over his words.

I lean forward, smiling. “Sweetie, I’m gonna need you to round up those few remaining brain cells together and work with me, okay?”

Barney cuts off any further intelligent conversation from Zac, who glares at me, his eyes burning. “Her team is downstairs; we’re holding them in the containment area. The warlock has repeatedly tried to teleport in.” Archan’s head snaps up.

“You’re holding my team hostage?” I hiss. “Why? Have you hurt them? I swear, for every single hair harmed, I’ll ram your balls one inch further up your backside.”

The two unknown men shuffle their feet, their hands drifting over their crotches. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, just as Jed appears out of thin air with Aaden and Duncan. I launch myself at them, and they encircle their arms around me. Inhaling Duncan’s scent, my body relaxes. They hold me even tighter when I begin to pull away.

I pat them on their backs. “It’s okay, guys. I’m okay, promise.”

Jed begins laughing as cotton fabric tickles my shoulders then shifts against my ass—my mostly naked ass. Another mental slap. I’m on a roll.

Archan turns me around to begin buttoning up a shirt; his shirt, I realize, as I inhale his sensuous, masculine smell. I swat away his hands when he gets to the third button, and he gives me a wicked grin. Suddenly remembering our last conversation on the boat, I decide to test out this new communication I’ve discovered.

“You may have made me delirious with your touches and kisses, and you may have inadvertently seen me half naked—twice. But your ‘I’m so dark and mysterious’ act, followed up with the ‘Let me control and dominate you, Natia, and I’ll let your inner freak out’ speech isnothappening. So take a step back, and remember my reply back on the boat.”

Jed is the first to keel over laughing, slapping his knee. Nathan joins him. I groan—no way. My face is too sore from all the mental slaps.

“Can I take that back?” I mumble.

Archan grins at me. “Yes. But that would mean itishappening.”

I throw my hands up and groan. “Never mind.”

Barney and Zac cross their arms over their chests with equal looks of suspicion. Archan goes back to buttoning my half-open shirt, and Jed is still wiping tears away when Barney speaks, “I’m not sure what I’m more shocked at—that she can communicate telepathically, or that she’s rejected him.”

Jed laughs again while holding his sides.

A thought pops into my head. “Wait, is that why you’re all always tilting your heads?”

Barney snorts, his brown eyes crinkling. “We don’t do that.”

“You do! It’s infinitesimal, but still there. I noticed it the first time we had breakfast.” I point at Archan. His brow furrows—apparently, Mr. Perfect isn’t impressed at having a flaw pointed out.

Nathan presses a glass of pink liquid in my hands, and I eye it with suspicion. He sighs. “It will help heal you. If Eitr poison isn’t going to kill you, nothing I give you will.” I take a sip and find it sweet and tangy.

Shirt now fully buttoned, I glance at the blood-covered sheets, pale, and look at Archan. “Is all that mine?” I ask calmly, as if I’m not staring at a scene from a horror movie.

“Yes. You were badly hurt,” Archan answers in an equally neutral voice.