under the trauma that had left his psyche in jagged shards. He didn't know her. "My name is Zahra."
His hand came up and his fingers touched her lips, traced their shape as if trying to memorize it. "You'll come back."
"Yes. Balthasar will take you to my room. Please go with him and wait for me there. Can you do that for me?"
Balthasar protested again. "Zahra, I can't--"
Fury seized her. "I am a royal daughter, and you will do as I say!" She fixed him with a glare and took a deep breath. "I know my duties and my place. Do you know yours?"
Balthasar's face closed off as brittle resentment filled the room. But he nodded. "Yes, priestess."
The tension in Jarek's body eased a tiny bit. His fingers ghosted over her cheek, over her hair and the line of her throat. "Zahra." From his lips, her name sounded like a benediction, a prayer.
"Yes." She backed away slowly, keeping her gaze on his. "I won't be long."
Zahra.
It echoes inside him, a whisper like silk over skin too used to rough pain. Maybe he remembers it, maybe it's a dream. But it suits her beauty, the softness of her skin and her scent.
In the quiet of her room he rolls it over his tongue and lets his mouth give it form. His voice is scratchy and raw, too ugly for a word that makes his heart pound and his cock ache. But it doesn't stop him from saying it again and again, as if it's a spell that can ward off the madness licking at the shattered edges of his mind.
He wants to lick her. Shape her body with his mouth and hands until she cries his name, and if she does it enough times maybe he'll remember what it is. Maybe he'll remember the way her pale green eyes look when she comes, the way her full lips look parted on a gasp, the way her dusky skin flushes with pleasure.
Zahra. He's surrounded by her scent and it isn't enough, isn't nearly enough because the beast is hungry for her ecstasy and nothing else will satisfy the craving.
Zahra.
Zahra paced in front of the plush chair where the high priestess was seated. "He's a brilliant doctor, Celine. And he's always been intense, but something--something broke him. Now, I know what the rules are, but I got through to him. I won't abandon him."
Celine drummed her fingers against the arm of her chair. "And your solution is to take a feral wolf to your bed? A man so wild no one who hasn't earned her silver robes could hope to handle him?"
If she told Celine the truth about their history, the priestess would most certainly bar Jarek from Zahra's bed. "He knows me. It isn't about rutting. He needs more than that, and that is something I'm trained for."
"It doesn't matter if he knows you, my dear. He may not be a warrior, but right now he's reacting like one. One who won't get on his knees and obey your every command based on the strength of your royal connections."
Zahra groaned. "I don't think I'm indestructible, if that's what you're implying."
"I'm not implying anything." Celine leaned forward suddenly, her green eyes hard. "I'm telling you flat out that if you try to control a feral wolf you could end up dead."
"I understand that." She would not shiver. Zahra clenched her hands into fists. "I promised him I would be back, and that he'd have no woman but me. I made a vow, Celine."
"If you're determined to do this..." The high priestess pointed to a chair. "Sit."
She held her head high as she followed the instruction.
Celine nodded and crossed her legs. "Tell me what you know of the most important rules for dealing with a feral wolf."
There was only one, as far as she knew. "Submission. I have to be ready and willing to submit to him, one hundred percent. If I struggle, his instinct will be to use force to dominate."
"He won't be able to help himself even if he wants to. Not everyone can earn a silver robe, Zahra. It's not about skill or experience or even patience. Those who submit because they have no choice will never get one. You need strength to deal with the wildest men. I know you're strong, but
His hand came up and his fingers touched her lips, traced their shape as if trying to memorize it. "You'll come back."
"Yes. Balthasar will take you to my room. Please go with him and wait for me there. Can you do that for me?"
Balthasar protested again. "Zahra, I can't--"
Fury seized her. "I am a royal daughter, and you will do as I say!" She fixed him with a glare and took a deep breath. "I know my duties and my place. Do you know yours?"
Balthasar's face closed off as brittle resentment filled the room. But he nodded. "Yes, priestess."
The tension in Jarek's body eased a tiny bit. His fingers ghosted over her cheek, over her hair and the line of her throat. "Zahra." From his lips, her name sounded like a benediction, a prayer.
"Yes." She backed away slowly, keeping her gaze on his. "I won't be long."
Zahra.
It echoes inside him, a whisper like silk over skin too used to rough pain. Maybe he remembers it, maybe it's a dream. But it suits her beauty, the softness of her skin and her scent.
In the quiet of her room he rolls it over his tongue and lets his mouth give it form. His voice is scratchy and raw, too ugly for a word that makes his heart pound and his cock ache. But it doesn't stop him from saying it again and again, as if it's a spell that can ward off the madness licking at the shattered edges of his mind.
He wants to lick her. Shape her body with his mouth and hands until she cries his name, and if she does it enough times maybe he'll remember what it is. Maybe he'll remember the way her pale green eyes look when she comes, the way her full lips look parted on a gasp, the way her dusky skin flushes with pleasure.
Zahra. He's surrounded by her scent and it isn't enough, isn't nearly enough because the beast is hungry for her ecstasy and nothing else will satisfy the craving.
Zahra.
Zahra paced in front of the plush chair where the high priestess was seated. "He's a brilliant doctor, Celine. And he's always been intense, but something--something broke him. Now, I know what the rules are, but I got through to him. I won't abandon him."
Celine drummed her fingers against the arm of her chair. "And your solution is to take a feral wolf to your bed? A man so wild no one who hasn't earned her silver robes could hope to handle him?"
If she told Celine the truth about their history, the priestess would most certainly bar Jarek from Zahra's bed. "He knows me. It isn't about rutting. He needs more than that, and that is something I'm trained for."
"It doesn't matter if he knows you, my dear. He may not be a warrior, but right now he's reacting like one. One who won't get on his knees and obey your every command based on the strength of your royal connections."
Zahra groaned. "I don't think I'm indestructible, if that's what you're implying."
"I'm not implying anything." Celine leaned forward suddenly, her green eyes hard. "I'm telling you flat out that if you try to control a feral wolf you could end up dead."
"I understand that." She would not shiver. Zahra clenched her hands into fists. "I promised him I would be back, and that he'd have no woman but me. I made a vow, Celine."
"If you're determined to do this..." The high priestess pointed to a chair. "Sit."
She held her head high as she followed the instruction.
Celine nodded and crossed her legs. "Tell me what you know of the most important rules for dealing with a feral wolf."
There was only one, as far as she knew. "Submission. I have to be ready and willing to submit to him, one hundred percent. If I struggle, his instinct will be to use force to dominate."
"He won't be able to help himself even if he wants to. Not everyone can earn a silver robe, Zahra. It's not about skill or experience or even patience. Those who submit because they have no choice will never get one. You need strength to deal with the wildest men. I know you're strong, but
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