Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his Fire Mate’s existence. Focused on the thread of life and warmth and golden heat she’d awakened inside him.
It flared hot. And close. Closer than he’d hoped. Or expected.
An image of Garrison filled his mind, the druid’s face bloodied, one eye blackened and bruised.
The dragon’s not coming for you, Jilly, his voice snarled in Ari’s head, the words thick with rage. I made sure of that.
Ari opened his eyes and grinned. “Wanna bet, fucker?”
He turned and sprinted for the safe house door.
5
She really needed to go back to karate lessons.
Squirming against the ropes binding her wrists and ankles together, Jilly kept her gaze on Derek.
He paced back and forth in front of her, muttering under his breath. Oh boy, she’d never seen him so riled up.
The fact she’d quite possibly broken his nose in her wild attempt to stop him from blowing that weird dust shit at her again probably hadn’t helped. It was, however, a salve of sorts to the fact said attempt to stop him had failed. Spectacularly.
Karate lessons were definitely in her future after this.
Of course, that was assuming she had a future after this.
The bleak suspicion her short and far-from-illustrious life was drawing close to its end tormented her. She ground her teeth, drawing in a long, slow breath.
Seriously, just what the hell was going on?
The peculiar chanting that insisted on filling her head had fallen silent. And she also felt strangely calm, despite her irritation with the situation.
She should be terrified. She should be a blubbering mess, begging Derek to not hurt her, pleading with him to let her go. Promising she would do whatever he wanted if he would only untie her.
Instead, she sat on the hard wooden chair he’d placed her on, pondering the tension in the rope around her ankles and wrist, and vexed by the fact she sometimes heard chanting in her head, that she still had no freaking clue who Ari was, nor why every fiber in her body told her that he was the reason for her existence.
If Derek was correct about her pagan ancestors, it must have something to do with that. Surely?
Maybe her contact with Ari had awakened some kind of past-life memory in her?
Or maybe she was just going insane.
Her stomach knotted, and she strained against the ropes again.
Throughout her surreal imprisonment with Derek, she could have sworn she kept feeling Ari in her head, the man who should be a stranger to her but for some reason wasn’t.
More than once, she felt rage not belonging to her. She’d heard his voice snarl something that sounded like Latin. Extraho Vene-something or other.
Then, while in the middle of smashing her fist as hard as she could against Derek’s nose—a nose she’d covered in ice cream one afternoon when they were hanging out, just to make him laugh—the sound of screeching tires and crunching metal tore through her head a fraction of a second before her shoulder erupted in pain.
There had been no reason for the sudden agony in her bones, but it had incapacitated her. She’d fallen to the ground, crying out.
Derek had taken advantage of the moment and overpowered her.
If this thing she shared with Arriman Drake was responsible for that little moment of pain and weakening disorientation, she was going to kick his arse if she saw him again.
After she kissed him stupid.
Regardless of it all, she still hungered for him like he was her only source of life.
Although, to be honest, that craving seemed to be fading right along with her fear.
“I did not want it to come to this, Jilly.”
She arched her eyebrows at Derek, unable to stop her contemptuous grunt. “Really? This isn’t how you seduce all your prisoners?”
A scowl twisted his lips. “You are not my prisoner. You are my life. My love. My everything. We’re meant to be together.”
Jilly wriggled on the seat. “Ari told me the same thing.”
Derek’s jaw bunched.
“You know what the difference between you and him is?” she said. “I wasn’t tied up and convinced he was going to hurt me when he said it.”
Eyes dark with an emotion she couldn’t decipher, Derek touched the swollen ridge of his bleeding nose. “I would never hurt you, Jilly. The dragon? He will hurt you. I will worship you.”
“I don’t want to be worshipped.”
“Yes, you do. And if you don’t, you will.”
A disquieting tension curled in Jilly’s stomach. She chewed her lip, studying her best friend.
Friend? Really?
“Do you know what the other difference is between you and Ari, Derek?” she said, her throat tight and dry. Her heart slammed faster against her breastbone.
He looked at her, frenzied energy radiating off him.
“I wanted Ari to fuck me after he told me we were meant to be together,” she finished.
She didn’t know why she was goading him. Perhaps she truly had gone insane?
Derek’s nostrils flared. His hands balled into fists at his sides. That dark emotion in his eyes grew cold.
Without a word, he turned and strode from the room and into the darkness of the rest of the house. Was it a house? Jilly didn’t actually know. She’d yet to see anything beyond this one room, illuminated by its lone lamp.
The distinct sound of glass chinking wafted out of the shadows, followed by the sound of running water.
Although this time, Jilly noticed it sounded not like a faucet running and more like something else. Liquid being poured from one container into another, perhaps?
She tested the ropes on her ankles and wrists again.
Just as tight as before. It seemed Derek tied knots as well as he decorated cakes—better than anyone else in Sydney.
Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift, seeking out the connection with Ari. She knew so little about him, and yet he was more important to her than breath.
Fire Mate. He’d called you his Fire Mate. Said you were destined to be together.
She’d
