Read Belonging for Free Online Page B

Rom, when she looked right at him and their gazes locked.
    His world narrowed to only her. He heard her sharp intake of breath. Her sweet voice faltered, then stopped. He ached for her to continue, never wanting her to stop. Except when she was underneath him, moaning his name as he made her come repeatedly.
    Then his world crashed around him as he saw her sway and her eyelids close. To his horror, his Moira was no longer standing.
    He stood helpless as the scene unfolded before him in slow motion. Her legs gave out and she crumpled to the stage floor, lying in a still heap.

 
    C hapter 8
     
    Analise
     
    She’d had goose bumps over her entire body for a solid fifteen minutes, about the time the vibe in the room became intense. She’d tried to block it out and finish her set strong. The sense of both danger and excitement were almost too much to ignore. The desire to seek out what caused this reaction in her was strong, but she needed to focus on her music. Three more songs to go and she’d be done.
    Earlier she’d thought about sticking around to snoop a little since she hadn’t had a chance to do that yet. That was the sole reason she was here, after all. But now all she wanted to do was go back to the motel, take a bath and go to bed. She worked again tomorrow night and would find some time to sneak off and look for the entrance to the lower level. The vampire part of Dragonfly.
    She’d just finished “Broken Pieces” and started a Halestorm favorite of hers when she spotted him standing just inside the entrance. Their gazes locked and she couldn’t have torn hers away if her life depended on it.
    Analise’s childhood had been difficult. Some people got breaks in life, some didn’t. She didn’t. And she accepted it for what it was. She wasn’t bitter. She didn’t carry around a grudge the size of Texas. She wasn’t resentful of the people who’d had it better than she. Envious perhaps. Resentful no.
    But with her difficulties growing up, also came in the inability to form bonds with other people. Beth was the only exception. Maybe inability was a strong word; she just didn’t care to form bonds with people. It was certainly a better way to protect her heart from the crushing loss and despair that inevitably happened when they disappointed you—or hurt you.
    So the powerful feelings of desire and belonging she felt as she stared into this beautiful stranger’s dark eyes were completely foreign and most unwelcome. Her breath caught and her voice faltered. She couldn’t remember the words to the song. She couldn’t even remember where she was. There was only him. His gaze was so intense it was frightening. He looked directly into her soul, seeing the darkness and sadness lurking inside. It was unnerving.
    Suddenly she felt light-headed. Black spots swam in her vision. Her ears began to ring. Noises faded away as if her head were stuffed with cotton. Her knees gave way and she dimly registered she was falling.
    The last thing she remembered was the look of horror on his face. Then the darkness consumed her.

 
    C hapter 9
     
    Analise
     
    “Analise, you need to wake now, my child.”
    “No.” She didn’t want to wake. She wanted to stay in the comfort and safety of her dream world with her guardian angel. In the real world, she was weak, but in her dreams she was powerful. As powerful as Mara. She could manipulate the elements. Rain fire with a thought. Dig a hole with nothing but her mind. Pop a lock by blinking.
    “I’ll be waiting for you as always, child. But now you need to wake. Analise, your destiny awaits.”
    Destiny? What destiny?
    That was her last thought before consciousness grabbed her again.
    And she wished it hadn’t. Her head hurt like a mother. It felt like someone was playing the drums on the inside of her skull. She moaned, reaching up to touch the offending wound. What happened?
    A rough hand gently stroked her cheek and she vaguely registered someone talking. Muffled music