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snow, beads of sweat broke out over his forehead, glistening. “You should not have come, Ashlyn Darrow,” he snarled, losing all hint of the desire she’d both fancied and feared. But he traced his hands up her arms, surprisingly gentle, and stopped at the base of her nape. Gingerly his thumb tripped over her throat, lingering on the wildly thumping pulse.
    She sucked in a breath and swallowed it, his fingers moving with the motion. An unintentional yet wholly erotic caress that liquefied her entire body. Until, a moment later, his grip tightened, almost hurting.
    She gasped out a raspy “Please,” and he released her completely.
    Ashlyn blinked in surprise. Without his touch, she felt…bereft?
    “Dangerous,” he said, this time in Hungarian.
    She wasn’t sure if he meant himself—or her. “Are you one of them?” she asked softly, not switching languages herself. No reason to let him know she spoke them both.
    Astonishment darkened his gaze, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “What do you mean? One of them?” English this time.
    “I—I—” The words refused to form. Fury was blanketing his features, more fury than she’d ever seen another person project. It radiated from every contour of his hard body. She drew her arms around her middle. No, not a prince after all. A dragon, definitely, as she’d first assumed.
    Remaining on his knees, he inched away from her. He drew in a measured breath and slowly released it, the airmisting around his face. His hand hovered over the opening of his boot, as if he couldn’t decide whether to reach inside or not. Finally, he said, “What are you doing in these woods, woman? And do not lie to me. I’ll know it, and you will not like my response.”
    Ashlyn somehow found her voice. “I’m looking for the men who live at the top of this hill.”
    “Why?” The single word was spat.
    How much should she reveal? He was one of the men with strange abilities, had to be. He was too vibrant, too powerful to be solely human. But more than that, his mere presence had somehow chased the voices away, something that had never happened to her before. “I need help,” she admitted.
    “Do you?” There was a conflicting mix of suspicion and indulgence in his expression. “With what?”
    She opened her mouth to say…what? She didn’t know. In the end, it didn’t matter. He stopped her with a quick shake of his head. “Never mind. You aren’t welcome here, so your explanation is moot. Return to the city. Whatever you came here for, you will not receive.”
    “But—but…” She couldn’t allow him to send her away. She needed him. Yes, she’d only just met him. Yes, the only things she knew about him were his name and the fact that he threw daggers with expert precision. But she was already horrified at the thought of losing the silence. “I want to stay with you.” She knew desperation seeped from her, but she didn’t care. “Please. Just for a little while. Until I learn how to control the voices myself.”
    Instead of softening, he seemed infuriated by her plea. His nostrils flared and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Your babbling will not distract me. You’re Bait. You have to be. Otherwise you would be running from me in fear.”
    “I’m not bait.” Whatever bait was. “Swear to God.” She reached out and gripped his forearms, the flesh firm and solid, unbelievably hot and utterly electrifying underneath her hand. Tingles speared her arm. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
    Quick as a snap, he slashed out a hand and caught the base of her skull, jerking her forward into a beam of moonlight. The action didn’t hurt her. On the contrary, she experienced another electrical jolt. Her stomach quivered.
    He didn’t speak, just studied her with an intensity that bordered on cruelty. She studied him, too, shocked as something began to flash…swirl…materialize under his skin. A face, she realized with macabre awe. Another face. Her heart