Copyright 2012, Karen Y. Bynum
All rights reserved, Lyrical Press, Inc.


Breena experienced exactly what Orin had said she would. No pain. As his lips moved with hers, tasted her soul, she was free. Liberated from the guilt and fear she’d carried for so long. This freedom was just the addiction she’d been looking for. The high she craved.

Then he didn’t stop taking breaths, and his hand in her hair started to shake.

When her fingers and toes went numb, the worry set in. What was happening? Why didn’t he stop? Could he not stop?

She shoved against his chest with her palms and then with her fists as the worry swelled into panic, like a wave of nausea flooding over her.

He didn’t budge.

His body was a boulder on top of her. She couldn’t speak because his lips had vacuum-sealed to hers. If she didn’t do something soon she’d lose consciousness.

Her thoughts muddled together in a pool of confusion. She needed to get away from him. But where?

Someplace safe.

Shutting her eyes, she could think of only one place she truly felt safe. She concentrated, hoping visualizing it would somehow make it easier. Fear gave her a boost of adrenaline. She didn’t want to die.

Seconds later, her body shattered like an ice sculpture under a hammer. A pounding headache and dizziness replaced nausea as her body pressed into a fluffy object.

When she opened her eyes, she was sitting on the couch in Myles’s house.

“Bree?” Myles stood in the doorway of the living room. He looked dumbstruck. His canines slid over his lips and his desire for her flowed through her veins.

She shivered, looking down at her exposed flesh.

Shit. I’m naked.

What the hell had happened to her clothes? Guess she needed a little more practice with the poofing action. Bright side, at least she was still alive.

Reaching for the closest thing she could find, which had to be a tiny throw pillow, she tucked her legs under her and covered up what she could with the little square. Embarrassment warmed her cheeks.

Myles kept his distance and averted his eyes. “You aren’t wearing any clothes.”

“What gave it away?”

Hate flowed through her before he said anything. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, he didn’t. Not at first...”

Suddenly, he zipped to her side, despite the fact that she was more than a little vulnerable. “He’s fed on you,” he snarled.

“What did you think we were doing?” Then she realized--Myles had thought she’d gotten it on with Orin. Well, she was naked after all.

“You’re weak. I can feel it in your blood. The unnatural couldn’t stop, could he?”

She didn’t respond. Surely Orin could’ve stopped before it was too late. She needed to believe he would have.

“He’s dangerous, Breena. You have to listen to me--”

“Myles Young, I don’t have to listen to anyone. I’m my own woman. You can choke on a blood clot for all I care.” Humphing for emphasis, she clutched the cloth pillow.

Leaning forward, he shook his head and gave her the sexy smile she hadn’t realized she’d missed. “Really, Bree, a blood clot?” He laughed.

Okay, so maybe the clot comment bordered on overkill, but the blood thing was going to give her emotional whiplash. She’d gone from surprised to horny to angry to jovial in less than five minutes. “I need some clothes.”

“Stay there.”

Where else would she go? Breena rolled her eyes, even though he’d already sped down the hall.