She barreled past him, as if she feared he’d change his mind. Just inside, she drew up short. As her slim shoulders began to tremble, he tried to see the area through her eyes.

The temple was round, constructed of solid gold slabs and bricks that seemed to catch and magnify the weak light filtering in. A dais stood in the center, with gold benches fanning out from it, like arena seating.

The golden ceiling was divided into five wedges, each with different glyphs, like those in the cave. More had been carved into the floor-to-ceiling gold walls.

Still reeling from her assault on his senses, he decided to put space between him and temptation. Twenty feet above them was a shining shelf. He leapt up to it, crouching on one knee to watch his mate’s love affair begin.

Slowly, she reached out her hand to one of the walls. . . .

Contact. She visibly shuddered, as if she’d touched a live wire. Would she react so sensually during intercourse?

With a look of wonder, she ran her fingers over a row of gold bricks, her eyes glimmering.

She was experiencing joy. The last time he’d experienced that for himself had been on their final day in the meadow. Rain had fallen, and he’d taken her under his wings. . . .

Now she hastened to the dais, spinning in place atop it, laughing with delight. When they’d been young, the sound of her laughter had made his heart swell. Now that sound affected a different part of his anatomy.

Perhaps he would approach joy once more when he saw his mate’s body for the first time.

Lanthe hadn’t caught her breath since she’d entered, her captivated gaze taking in every detail.

Happiness coursed through her veins. How had clever Thronos found this place?

Though she was in a room full of gold, her attention veered to him, crouched on that shelf. The muscles of his torso flexed with his movements. His stern, intense expression and that gargoyle-like position made him look very demonic.

She’d never bedded a demon before. Huh.

Yet as she strolled the temple, his constant scowl eased. Without that scowl, he was . . . gorgeous.

There was no more denying it—or her attraction to him.

Some females might consider his scars unsightly. Lanthe thought they made him look tough and warlord-y. Besides, who could care about them when those silver eyes were so compelling? When his warrior’s body seemed to have been sculpted from granite?

He’d once believed that she was “everything missing” from his life. Could he still feel that way? And why was she contemplating these things—instead of how to transpo this gold to Rothkalina or calculating karats?

Why did she have the urge to peer up at him with equal captivation? She surrendered to her impulse, turning to him. He seemed surprised by her perusal but held her gaze.

They were—dare she say it?—having a moment.

“You face me when surrounded by gold? Perhaps I rate after all?” The scowl returned, as if he was hardening himself. She wanted to cry, No, no, no, just a few more minutes!

“We had a deal,” he said. “I grow impatient.”

She could imagine—he’d waited so long to see her. And now she knew he’d already been struggling with his lust and curiosity when he’d been a young man.

A deal was a deal. She would take the sight of this gold into her, a memory to last forever. Unless I can return. . . .

“Be about it, sorceress.”

Since she’d planned to enthrall him, this would be a good start, but the way he was crouching forward, as if on the verge of pouncing, made her hesitate. “If I do this, how do I know you won’t try to touch me? You’re not supposed to, right?”

“I only intend to look,” he said, though she could sense his aggression mounting.

“Uh-huh.”

“Do it, then.” When she still hesitated, he said, “Don’t feign shyness—I know you’ve done this with a horde of males before me.”

And just like that, her interest was checked. Though she was neither ashamed nor proud of the number of men she’d been with, his cruel jabs wounded her.

At least now she better understood his resentment. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to put myself in a sexual situation with you.”

He growled at that. “After your purported year of celibacy, I would expect you to be climbing the walls for any male’s attentions. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re in season.”

She flushed, lips thinning.

“I’ve heard tales of females like you.” At her raised brows, he enunciated the words, “Easy quarry.”

How could a maddened Vrekener hurt her so much?

Because he once looked at you with perfect acceptance, Lanthe. And she feared she’d been searching for that look ever since she’d lost it.

In order for her to be interested in a male, he needed to make her feel special—even if she knew it was a ruse. Despite Thronos’s mind-blowing body and heartbreaking past, he stood no chance. “Even we ‘easy quarry’ girls have standards. And you, Thronos Talos, are leaving me cold.”

He scoffed. “I could seduce you with ease. You’ve welcomed scores before me with only minuscule effort on their part. But I’ve no intention of taking you, nor even of touching you. Both are offendments. I only want to see my female.”

“You think you can resist seeing your mate naked?”

“You think I can’t?” A cunning light shone in his gaze. “You Sorceri like to gamble? To make bets? Then I’ll enter into a wager with you—my first.”