A waterfall burst from the side of a mountain, crystalline and shiny, tumbling to the wide pool beneath it where giant ferns ringed the water and shrubs and plants congregated close. Water formed bright ribbons dissecting the ground below them as they continued to fly over the next mountain ridge. She followed him, caught up in the rapture of soaring through the sky, the wind on her body and the ever-changing scenery below her breathtaking.

The caps of the mountains ahead were snowy white, a pristine world of icy beauty. The part of the mountain Zev sought had long ago been a volcano. The glacier followed the deadly eruption, creeping over the fire-lit mountain, turning the red rock to an icy blue. The effect where the ice thinned was stunning.

He dropped down into the crater. She could see the surrounding mountain was all snow and ice, but in the cradle, trees and plants and even flowers grew, birthed by the years of wind bringing seeds to the rich soil inside the shallow crater. A fine green grass lined the floor, tiny little shamrocks of ground cover. A few trees grew, their limbs healthy and strong, reaching for the sky in their warmer nest, unseen and untouched by anyone. Protected by the ice and snow, the little oasis had gone unnoticed.

Zev settled on the floor itself, waving his hand to cushion the ground with a bed of petals. Branislava shifted, taking her human form, turning in a slow circle to inspect their surroundings. When she had first seen the snowy mountains, her heart had given a little jerk of apprehension, but she should have had more faith.

“It’s beautiful here, Zev. How did you find it?”

“Patrolling. Looking for rogues. A couple of times, before you woke, I went out looking out of habit.” He grinned at her. “And I like to fly.”

She had to smile back. He looked relaxed and happy, a far cry from the grim man who had to fight too many battles. “It’s time someone saw to your wounds.” She pointed to the bed of petals.

“That’s for you. And this patch of Gary’s worked very well. Lycans rejuvenate fairly quickly. Remember, I’m also mixed blood and that gives me a boost as well.”

She fixed him with a stern eye, even as she lifted her hand to her hair and pulled out the tie binding her braid. With a wave of her hand she freed the long thick mass from its weave, shaking her head so that the silken strands fell around her like a cape of red gold. “I would very much like you to lie down so I can see to your wounds, Zev,” she told him.

“Dragon flames are beginning to glow in your eyes,” Zev informed her. When she was like this, demanding, sexy, every move sensual, there was no way to resist her. He could see that fire always smoldering just beneath the surface rising, growing hotter.

His body reacted to that note in her voice, the stroking of his skin with her tone, the heat in her eyes as she looked him over. Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips.

She tapped her foot. “I’m waiting.”

“So am I,” he said softly, trying not to use his alpha voice, but it was there, that growling command he had been born with.

She tipped her head to one side, her eyes slumberous and sexy, long lashes sweeping down almost demurely, but when they came back up, her eyes held flames dancing through a background of emerald green.

She waved her hand down her body, and her clothes disappeared. His breath caught in his lungs and stayed trapped there. Her form was exquisite to him, all those soft, full curves and the tucked-in waist. Her hair fell around her, framing her high breasts and the nipples peaking hard already. He knew if he pushed his hand between her legs she would be hot and wet for him.

“You are so beautiful, Branka. For me, to me, there is no other who can compare.”

She placed one hand on her hip and continued tapping her small, bare foot. He wanted to drop to his knees and yank her close, and taste the cinnamon honey he scented drifting toward him. Instead, he let her have her way, shedding his clothes, watching her eyes as her gaze dropped to his heavy erection. His hand went to his thick cock, circling it, feeling the sensual burn already. He took his time walking over to the bed of petals. It wasn’t easy with his groin full and hard and so ready for her body, but for her, he would do anything.

The moment he lay on his back, she was straddling his calves, removing the patch and leaning over him, her soft breasts brushing across his skin. Her tongue lapped at his wound with healing saliva. She whispered softly, a small healing litany he heard in his mind rather than aloud.

Zev’s pulse thundered in his ears. While she lapped at his wound, her hands were busy on his shaft, his balls, fingers sliding over him in a delicate dance and then suddenly switching from a soft caressing brush, to a fist pumping him, her thumb sliding over the large, sensitive head to smear the leaking pearls around.

Her hair fell in a pool of red into his lap, teasing his cock, adding to the chaos growing in his mind. The sensation of living silk sliding around and over him, her tongue and hands was almost too much to take. He kept his hips from bucking and his hands from fisting in her hair and dragging her mouth to his cock using his years of discipline—but it wasn’t easy.

She lifted her head to look at him. His heart nearly stopped. The stark intensity of her fiery passion shone in her eyes. Already her skin took on a glow, the color changing from pale porcelain to a flushed deep pink. With each move she made, her hair crackled, alive with energy. Very slowly she moved her body up his, the hot vee between her legs leaving behind evidence of her arousal on his calf. She moved over his thighs and straddled his groin, refusing to give him the satisfaction of sheathing his rock-hard weapon.

Once again she removed the patch and flung it away from her, licking up his belly and over his ribs, over every scratch and bruise until she reached the stab wound in his chest. He heard that soft healing litany echoing through his mind, a melody of love that surrounded him, enfolded him with fire. Branislava. His lifemate. She was fire and passion. She was love to him. Everything good in the world. When she healed him, she didn’t just heal with her love and her gifts, or even the miraculous saliva of her species. She also healed with her fiery passion, and the urgent need she had for his body.

When her mouth moved over his wounds, when her tongue lapped at his lacerations and bruises, there was blatant seduction along with her healing balm. His body reacted, every nerve ending springing to life, alert and pouring heat through his bloodstream. He brought his hands up to her breasts, massaging and kneading, his fingers settling on her nipples to tug and roll.

The pretty pink flush on her body deepened. Her skin, soft and supple, burned hotter. Over the base of his cock, where her body met his, a fire seemed to ignite. He was fast losing his ability to accommodate her. He issued a warning growl, letting her know he was about at his limit.