"Ellie, just give him a little more time. He'll soften if you're nice to him."

So he could crush her again? "No." It had hurt too much. "I don't want him." "Well, you're stuck here. Why not make the best of it?"

"I will."

Phil smiled, seemingly misunderstanding her. But at least he left.

Eleanor sat up and snatched a notebook from her nightstand. She could study and make plans and just ignore the selfish bastard. Maybe even have fun at the masquerade.

When the door opened again, Meagan skipped in with a squeal. Fabric rustled over her arms. Openly, she'd carried the costume through the hall. "Don't worry. No one saw me. Look." She held it up. The black laced, purple satin dress seemed doll-sized. "Put it on."

"Meagan, I can't hide the pheromone or my eyes when I...you know." If only she was full elf. Then she'd only release pheromones when ovulating once every hundred years instead of constantly.

Meagan held up lemon slices. "It kills every smell in the kitchen. Even fish. And I have this." She dumped everything on the bed to find the mask. Purple lenses covered the eye slits. "Come on. Just try it."

Light would still shine through but at least it wouldn't be blue, she supposed. The lemon seemed like a bad idea, though. After she donned the costume and stood before the mirror, she knew it was all a bad idea. Eleanor tugged at the back but it wouldn't cover her bare bottom. Her plump cheeks curved below the rough lace. The low-cut bodice didn't conceal much more. The pink of her areolas peeked out, though they looked mostly purple through the lenses of the mask.

Her long hair and pointed ears hid in gathers of purple satin. Although glowing purple feathers fluffed out over her cheekbones and forehead from the mask, her pouty lips still showed. Wouldn't they recognize her mouth? "I might as well go naked."

"It won't stay on very long anyway. You look great." Meagan rubbed a lemon slice on Eleanor's neck and wrists.

"I'm the only hybrid woman in Biston besides Erick's mother. Even with the lenses, they'll know."

"So close your eyes."

Meagan made it seem so simple but Eleanor had never pulled off a disguise before. She'd tried and failed many times during her escape attempts. Well, the last time she'd come close. "What about shoes?" Eleanor sighed.

"No. You'd be surprised how many guys looove feet. Go barefoot. You have pretty little feet. High arches." Meagan stripped down to her costume, a tiny fluff of tulle. A swan mask completed her ensemble. "Oh, rules. No names. No kissing on the lips. No touching faces. That's it. Let's go." She snatched Eleanor's hand and pulled her out into the hall.

Just like that. Half naked in the open. Eleanor gasped and quickly scanned the hall. No one saw her step out. Earth, her heart raced and her face grew numb.

Meagan pulled her down the hall, seeming to know Eleanor would back out given the chance.

Light from both moons spilled in from narrow windows along the length of the hall. The walls should look pink but Eleanor's lenses darkened everything to purple.

Her feet moved on their own over the icy, bare floor toward the high-pitched hum of desire. Cold crawled up her legs but she barely noticed it. What if someone recognized her? What else would Erick and her father take from her? Could she lose anything more? What if she lost Meagan?

The door to the throne room opened. Heat washed over her and thawed her goose-bumped skin. Moans and grunts called like a siren's song but it was Meagan's rough tug that pulled her inside.

Men's gazes dripped down her body and Eleanor tugged on her skirt, wishing it was just a little longer. She hadn't expected to feel so vulnerable. She never had before. Why had she let Meagan talk her into this? She wanted to hide her nakedness behind spells but magic would expose her even more.

Meagan's petite hand, Eleanor's anchor, slipped away and panic flooded through Eleanor.

"Wait. I can't do this." She stepped back and bumped into someone. She tried to turn around to see who it was, hoping for Meagan. But a man's thick arm circled her waist, erection pressed hard against her back.

Instinctively, she clasped his wrist, meaning to wriggle free but a tingling sensation startled her. Earth, it was him. Invisible needles pricked her belly. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. She tried to push his arm away but his grip tightened. Then she felt his mind, probing at hers. She blocked him and his thick biceps twitched.

"You're new, aren't you?" he whispered in her ear, breath tickling her.

His words relieved her. He didn't recognize her. Earth, but he would. She needed to get away.

Erick kissed her neck and his soft lips sparked nerves afire all through her body.

Her eyes heated and she squeezed them shut to hide her light. If only he didn't feel so good.

He stilled, seemingly surprised. "Hybrid?"

Oh, stupid Meagan. Eleanor knew the lemon wouldn't work. He smiled against her skin.

She hadn't expected that but as far as he knew, there could be other hybrids in Biston. That could explain the tingling sensations to him and keep her identity secret. He wouldn't know what the sparks meant. But could she do this with him? Her body more than wanted to. Tomorrow it would be as if it never happened. Just for one night, to feel him. It meant nothing.

He stroked her waist and kissed higher up her neck, quickening her breath. Excitement teased every synapse beneath his touch. It felt so right. She didn't have to hate him tonight. Her eyelids loosened open.

Rough lace scraped her skin as his hand slid over her ruffled skirt to the swell of her buttocks. When his palm cupped her bare cheek, she gasped. Hot honey dripped down the inside of her thighs. If his caress slipped any lower, she'd come right there before his cock even touched her.

Suddenly beside her, he stared down from the holes of his black satin mask. She'd always loved his dark eyes, normally the color of chocolate. The heat of his gaze, unhindered and free, melted the last of her reserves.

She couldn't help but touch him. Earth, she'd never felt his skin, not like this. He'd always pushed her hands away before. But now, he actually moaned when she stroked the thick muscle of his neck. It twitched beneath her fingertips. So masculine and electrifying. She pressed her palm flat against the bulge of his chest for more. Bursts of energy lit the nerves of her hand. Mmm, she wanted that everywhere. She leaned against him but fabric frustratingly separated them. When she kissed the small of his throat, her mouth watered, his salt on her tongue, the delightfully warm sensation in her throat. To taste him all over would be divine. Starting with his lips.

But he turned from her, hand on the small of her back, spinning her, guiding her forward.

Her heart tossed wildly against her ribs. Men stared at her from their masks and the hum of their thoughts rose in pitch. Some even approached. She'd always wanted a few at once but not with Erick. Too much. She just needed him, all of him inside.

As if their king shook his head in disapproval, men fell back, clearing a path to the stage. One bed waited, empty, blankets pulled back.

Her legs felt heavy and awkward as she approached it. Did he plan to display her while they...? Earth, she couldn't finish the thought.

His touch fell from her. "Lie down."

Words and thoughts failed her. This wasn't how she'd pictured her first time with her fated. She glanced over the masked faces staring up at her, past the bed, below the stage.

When Erick untied the cords holding back velvet curtains that hung above the bed, she worried he'd heard her thoughts. She'd blocked her mind but emotions could have slipped out. Did he know who she was?

Darkness hid his face as curtains fell closed. Somehow he shielded his thoughts and he seemed as he once was, impervious and strong.

His hand found hers, rough fingertips scraping the tender skin between her fingers. He'd never had the hands of a king. Callused and blistered from hours of swordplay, even now that he had the throne.

"Relax. I won't hurt you," he whispered and guided her onto the bed.

Soft cotton cradled her and dipped beneath his weight beside her. Blinded by darkness, blocked from his mind, she didn't know what to expect. She rested her head back and tried to slow her breath.

Effortlessly, as if he could see her, his fingertips traced her collarbone.

Her whole body arched up and air puffed from her open mouth when his lips pressed slowly, teasingly between her breasts. Light burst from her eyes, through the violet tinted lenses. She gripped his wild locks, demanding more.

But he didn't give her what she wanted. His lips dragged up her chest and neck where he nipped and tasted.

Thrilling pleasure burst from every gentle kiss and scrape of his teeth but frustration clawed at her insides. His hand rested so innocently at her waist, instead of where she needed him.

No man had ever been so infuriatingly slow. Her eyes burned with a strange mixture of irritation and desire.

She gripped his shoulders, squeezing the muscles she'd admired all her life. Down his arms she stroked. Sweet contractions rewarded her exploration, until she reached the scarf tied around the forearm she'd scarred.

He pushed her hand away and his body slid over hers, pressing her deep into the bed with his weight. Thick muscle tensed against her nearly bare flesh. Sparks passed between them and she could feel inside him, every electrified nerve in his body.

A soft, low sound vibrated his lips against her skin, thrilling her but not as much as the back of his fingers on her nipples. He tugged down the lacy cups of her bodice and freed her breasts. His palms circled over her beaded nipples, fingers spread wide.

Heart pounding, she couldn't breathe. Her hips bucked against her will and she was his. She'd do anything to feel him inside her then. Her thighs seemed to melt, parted to him and she shoved his silk pants down. His buttocks clenched beneath her palms and she squeezed. Oh, she needed to feel his muscles contract and relax in a fierce crescendo, needed to feel him thrust deep inside her.

He groaned, bare cock rubbing between the slick lips of her eager slit. "Wait," he grunted and flinched back. "We have all night."

Her sex shivered from the loss. So close.

He wanted to just as much as she did. She felt every desire in his rigid body, every thought in his racing mind. But he wanted to do this right. He knew this was different.

Earth, that made him all the more irresistible.

"Please." Her whole body tensed at that word. She'd never begged for a man. She wished she could take it back but it lingered between them, as permanent as stone. She shouldn't appear so eager. It made her feel weak and vulnerable. But she needed him. She'd needed this for so long.

He roughly tugged at the laces of her bodice. His body left her briefly and her nerves ached, dull and still without the sparks of his touch. She nearly whimpered. Not again. But then her dress jerked from her body. It rustled behind him and she lay nude.

She wanted to grab him, to pull him inside her but she shouldn't. She gripped the blankets beneath her in tight fists to stop herself. Just a little longer and he'd be hers.

The bed shook as he removed his own clothing. A paper package crinkled above his quick breath and she assumed he had put a condom on.

She bit her lip, waiting and wanting. Pricklies tumbled about in her belly like frantic mice.

The heat of his hard body spread over her, chasing electric sparks.

Her back arched in anticipation and a moan lifted from her chest. Everywhere his skin touched hers, fire lit her nerves. He held her, bare chest against hers, clutching her and she immersed herself in their melding sensations. One. Almost one.

Cravings for more tugged at her mind and quivered in her hardened pearl. She wanted to feel him completely, every inch. She licked her lips and slid her thighs up his, tantalizingly slowly, the way he touched her.

She gasped from the excitement that burst from his mind. He'd been holding back. The sparks that coursed through him nearly overwhelmed her, intense, so much stronger than he'd ever let her see.

His mind frantically probed against hers, seeking her experiences.

But she couldn't. He might see too much. Instead, she offered her body. She tried to slide down to the rigid member that twitched against her thigh but his weight pressed her deeper into the bed, limiting her movement.

"Let me in."

But he'd stopped the last time she let him see. Maybe just a little bit, just enough to get what she wanted. Eleanor hesitantly dropped part of her mind's shield, exposing only her emotions and sensations.

He groaned and his voice rumbled through her. His body slid up hers, hardness nearly in reach.

Short gasps racked her chest. Every muscle in her back tensed and ached with anticipation. Hot honey gushed from her sex.

She knew he felt it. The pride it stirred in him slowed his hand on her thigh. He stroked, palm open, teasingly light, purposely frustrating her. The hard, thick tip of his erection pressed against her puffy opening.

She tried to rise to him, to seize him but he pulled away. You know what I want to hear.

Her face heated and eyes burned. He'd liked it when she'd begged. "Please." The weak word fluttered out on a desperate whisper.

When his thick rod plunged into her, everything else disappeared. Spasms of pleasure erupted from her sex. She clutched him tightly as every muscle jerked rigid, every synapse exploded and every scream scraped higher. At the peak, a wail suspended high above them and her body arched tense in his hungry grip. Her trembling sex gushed with erratic electric pulses. Ecstasy.

She suspended from his arms, calm and still, clinging to the last sensation. His chest heaved, breath quick. His mind, so ravenous, bit deeper.

She winced against the force. Too much. Frantically, she kissed his lips to distract him.

Shock halted his descent. His thoughts recoiled, at first, thick with discomfort. But his mouth remained. Soft, full lips pressed gently, hesitantly. It was only for the electric tingles that he kissed her but he felt divine. Warm. Tender. He tasted her mouth, tongue flicking and reservations seemed to slip away.

He made love, each stroke deeper than the last. The sweetness intensified her need and hastened her next orgasm. Stronger than the last.

Their moans mingled as their bodies knotted into one. Emotions and sensations intertwined, weaving themselves into an elaborate tapestry. He moved the way she wanted him to and her orgasm, rich, tight and slick, became his.

Body wrapped tight around hers, he lifted her higher with every firm and fervent stroke. His scream rang in her ears as his orgasm burst deep inside her. Hot and spewing. Electric spasms flickered between them. Long after his hips stopped, his erection throbbed and twitched inside.

He lay limp and worn against her. His mind slipped between sleep and wakefulness.

She stroked his hair. Those wild waves, smooth and soft, curled around her fingers. Eleanor couldn't help but smile. He felt even better than she'd imagined.

Glad, I could please, he thought to her. Her mind clamped shut.

"How can you deny me the pleasure of your company?" he whispered and rolled off her. His arm slid over her waist and pulled her close. "Give me an hour and I can go again." His lips brushed against her cheek. "Tell me what you want. Let me see inside."

Eleanor held her breath, panic rushing through her. She hadn't expected him to want to talk afterwards. Earth, he'd figure out who she was and hate her. "It's late," she blurted and bolted up. Fumbling about in the darkness, she found her dress and hastily tugged it on. She tried to tighten the cord at the center but he seized a loose end and towed her to him.

"It's not that late. I can't let you go without knowing your name."

Eleanor jerked away and the cord snaked through her bodice, releasing her.

She gripped her dress closed and fell back, past the velvet curtains of the bed, onto the floor. Before he could pull back the curtains, she stumbled away and ran. Bodies tangled in lust blurred past.

Chapter Eight.

December 22, 9544 AR

Valetta, Biston