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feel both carnaland possessive. His body craved hers on some base level. He wondered if his recent ordeal had changed him in some way, made him vulnerable, as he hadn’t been previously.
    “Well, Prince Wulfric? How are you?”
    A ripple of pleasure coursed through him at the sound of her throaty voice. “Mistress,” he answered, the word rolling off his tongue in a way that said he was in her service only because he chose to be, and not because she forced him. “I’m feeling much improved.”
    Her dark eyes sparkled. “I’m happy to hear that. The Guardian says you asked for permission to speak with me. You have it. Speak.”
    He started in surprise at her tone, but didn’t show it. Authority had slipped over her like a monarch’s robes. Wulf noted her self-possession and her ease in command. There was more to this concubine than met the eye. He was determined to discover as much as he could about her before he left.
    “I’m curious as to the state of my present circumstances.” He kept his face impassive, not wanting to betray his confidence that he could leave her at will. It was obvious Sapphire had nothing to do with his capture. The mästares had told him of her surprise at discovering him in her home and she made no effort to question him or torment him as would someone who had a malicious intent. That left many questions unanswered. “Am I to be ransomed?”
    “You didn’t have to see me to ask that question. Guardian, will you answer?”
    “There is no ransom, Prince Wulfric. Your countrymen believe you to be dead.”

    Wulf didn’t even blink. After his failure to check in, search parties would have discovered the remains of his patrol. Despite that evidence, the palace would know he was alive. Deep inside the flesh of his right buttock was a nanotach—a chip powered by his cellular energy that conveyed his location.
    To avoid war, his father would allow him a reasonable amount of time to escape. After that, fighting would begin. D’Ashier needed him. He had work to do. The assault against his patrol had succeeded owing to careful planning. No one would dedicate that amount of effort for mere sport. What had been the original intent of the ambush? Ransom? Information? And how did the plans change so greatly that he was now in the care of the king’s favorite concubine?
    The Guardian misunderstood his silence.
    “Be forewarned if you think to end the Mistress’s life for your freedom. With her training, you may find an unexpected result.”
    Sapphire studied him with a penetrating gaze, as if she hoped to see his intentions from the outside.
    “I don’t want to kill you,” he assured her. “If I did, I would have done so by now.”
    Wulf tensed a moment too late. What occurred next transpired so quickly he couldn’t be certain later what happened. He remembered only that she sprang from her chair and flew across the desk in one fluid movement. Her smaller body hit his with enough force to knock him to the floor. The teasing prick of pain at his neck warned him that she held a blade in her hand. With a flick of her wrist, he would bleed to death.

    For a moment, horrifying memories of his ambush made his heart race desperately. His chest lifted and fell in near panicked rhythm. He could smell the cave and taste his own blood. He inhaled sharply—
    —and the scent of Draxian lilies permeated his senses.
    Her scent.
    The warmth and softness of her body was a salve. He was soothed, just from the feel of her, his fear and confusion gone as quickly as they’d come. Still he was shocked, staring up at her with wide eyes. It took years of training for a woman of her slight build to better a man of his size. Sapphire wouldn’t have managed it without the element of surprise. But that was not the point. The point was she had bettered him. She was no easy target and she wanted him to know that. He was impressed.
    Then his admiration flared into something hotter as the press of her curves onto his