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clearing.
    â€œYuri?”
    His back was to her. Fists clenched tight at his sides. His broad shoulders shielded her from the sight of Misha, who lay on the ground, rubbing his obviously sore jaw.
    Scooting up to sit, Ileana glanced around for the others. Their broken bodies lay sprawled on the grass, limbs cocked in unnatural angles.
    â€œCalm down, brother,” Misha said, nodding toward Yuri’s forearms. “There’s enough of her to go around.”
    Yuri took two steps closer and threw up his arms, showing off the ink branding him a traitor. “I’m not your brother,” he bit out. “And she is not interested.”
    â€œI beg to differ.” Misha’s gaze slid to her. His hand reached down to cup his privates. Fingers curling over the still-hard rod, he rotated his hips, his eyes shuttered as he stared at her. “In a few minutes, she would have been begging for more.”
    â€œBastard,” Ileana breathed.
    Yuri’s muscles were jumping behind his shirt.
    Before Ileana could get to her feet, Misha began screaming, a high-pitched, earsplitting wail. Frenzied, his fingers clawed at his head with such force his fingernails ripped strips of flesh from his face. Heart racing, Ileana glanced from him to Yuri, unsure what was going on.
    Yuri remained unmoving, his back straight, his muscles tensed. Focused. Ileana swallowed, her gaze traveling back to Misha writhing in pain on the grass. Realization dawned.
    Medji powers.
    Yuri had used his psychic abilities to attack Misha. Or rather, have Misha attack himself. A shudder passed over her skin at the sheer power Yuri possessed. The assault continued for only a few moments before Misha’s body began seizing in convulsions and then quit moving altogether.
    Yuri’s shoulders dropped, his muscles relaxed. He stared at Misha for a few seconds, his fingers flexing and closing before he spun around. The sight of him stole her breath. Unruly strands of dark hair whipped across his handsome face. His fangs hung down in lethal points, and a fierce bloodlust filled his eyes.
    â€œAre you all right?”
    Momentarily breathless, she nodded. “You came back,” she finally said, her voice still laced with a low-grade panic she did not even try to mask.
    He stepped toward her, his hands gently wrapping around her biceps. “Of course I came back.”
    Goddess, help her, but her heart fluttered at his words. His hands gripped her tighter, almost desperately. Then, unexplainably, the energy between them shifted. A change passed over Yuri’s handsome face. The worried façade dissipated, leaving the mask of indifference he’d worn most of the evening. The one she had a feeling he always stoically wore even though the burden of it nearly killed him.
    How she wanted to rip it off, beat and pound on it until it cracked. Until he cracked and leveled those fierce and passionate eyes on her again.
    Ileana reached toward him, her hand cupping the side of his face. A low groan ached from him and he leaned into her palm. The façade splintered ever so slightly at just her touch. What would happen if she kissed him? If she peeled the robes off her body and stood bare before him? Thought after thought and countless what-if’s crossed her mind.
    Instead, she stepped into his arms. Tilting her head to the side, she tucked hers under his. He inhaled sharply, releasing the air in a shuddered breath. Ileana held hers as she rested her cheek against his chest. When his arms finally closed around her, his chin dropping on the top of her head, she smiled and closed her eyes.
    Warmth, safety enveloped her such as she never felt. So much so, she wondered if he’d entered her mind again. She felt…
    Home.
    Something roared in the distance, a shrieking bellow that rent the sky and made the earth rumble. Yuri clutched her tightly as the sharp wailing continued. The sound cut through her, low and visceral. Ileana’s bones