What happens when he gets all his memories back? She worried about that while she continued to stroke and explore his body wherever she could reach. There was a chance he no longer felt a strong emotional tie to her. People could change a lot in two years—the video Harley had shown was proof of that. The male she’d known wouldn’t have joked around about playing sports with women.

It still bothered her that he might have met someone else. Harley would have mentioned a girlfriend or a woman if Moon was seeing anyone but that didn’t mean he hadn’t lost his heart at some point. She knew that life-altering events could trigger people to take stock of their lives. What if he recovered and decided to pursue whoever he had lost? What if he didn’t want her? It would shred her to lose him yet again.

Joy closed her eyes and clung to Moon. One day at a time, one step at a time. It was advice she’d given to countless clients when they faced upheaval and uncertainty in their private lives. The first priority was getting Moon well. She’d worry about the future later.

Chapter Eight

Something is different. It was his first impression as he became conscious. An arousing feminine scent filled his lungs as he inhaled. His other senses awakened next. Warm flesh was pinned beneath him. Soft br**sts were plastered against his chest and the female’s thighs were spread apart under him, the light weight of her legs hooked over the back of his.

He opened his eyes to the sight of chestnut curls spread across a pillow and the pale column of her throat only inches from his mouth. His gaze followed the curve of her chin to her dainty face. She seemed familiar but he couldn’t understand the protective instincts that rose so strongly inside him as he studied the female while she slept.

His dick was hard and buried inside her. He tried to remember how the female had entered his cell but nothing surfaced. Breeding drug. It took him seconds to associate the thought with the meaning. A foggy memory of being shot with a dart and intense pain flashed inside his head. The drug had been used on him before but the details of how many times and exact circumstances were out of reach. He knew it was a weapon used against him to force him to mount females.

Human. He lifted his head enough to stare down at the slumbering female lying on his mat. To be certain. Rage engulfed him and his heartbeat accelerated. Enemy. More images and partial memories surfaced—humiliation, abuse and sadistic behavior unleashed on him by her male counterparts.

He lifted his hand, careful to make no sudden moves that would alert her to his intent. The lower half of him throbbed, more than aware of how wet she was and how tightly she gloved his shaft. Desire to take his pleasure from her almost overrode his urge to seek revenge. It would feel good to drive his body in and out of hers. Helpless. She is too small and weak to fight me. That made him pause. He was not cruel.

He would show mercy. It enraged him that he’d been used for more tests. They obviously had wanted to breed him with a human. His gaze scanned her shoulders, throat, and down her arms, which were bent upward, resting near the pillow. No bruises or bite marks marred her pale skin. He hadn’t taken her as aggressively as he somehow knew he would have on the drug. It was also confusing that she faced him, their bodies joined that way, when she should have been facedown. He would have mounted her from behind.

He wrapped his fingers tenderly around her fragile throat. One quick twist and it would be over. She’d die without pain. The test would be a failure. He focused on her face, studied every detail of her features. Her mouth was a temptation. Her nose was so different from his—smaller and narrower. Her cheekbones were less pronounced. Even her eyelashes were dainty.

The memory of her gazing at him slammed into his mind. He knew her eyes would be blue, beautiful, with flecks of yellow. He couldn’t remember where he’d seen them before but it was a certainty that would be what he saw if her eyelids parted. His hand on her throat relaxed.

The protective instincts grew stronger until his chest felt as though it actually constricted. He had to swallow the lump forming in his throat as he nearly choked on raw emotion. It was confusing why he felt such self-loathing over even considering snapping her neck. The sight of his hand against her throat was even more alarming. He withdrew it and fingered a thick lock of her hair instead.

Soft. He inhaled, breathing her in. His dick hardened until his balls ached. He was so focused on the female that it wasn’t easy to concentrate but he forced his attention elsewhere to assess the situation.

The mat was thicker than the one he was accustomed to and it wasn’t on the floor. He turned his head, stunned by his surroundings. The cage he knew so well was gone. Bars ran from floor to ceiling on three of the walls. Chains wrapped the bars of the door but the locks were all inside. Logic told him the door had been secured from the inside.

He wasn’t a prisoner. He had secured the area to keep humans out. His gaze returned to the slumbering female. Her chest rose and fell steadily. He growled and her breathing changed. Her eyelids remained closed but she wasn’t so drugged that she couldn’t wake.

Think. How did I get here? Who is this female? He turned his head the other way, staring past the bars to a cavernous, dim room beyond. The smell of the place was different from Mercile. A howl threatened to explode from him as rage heated his blood. He hated them. It took him a moment to remember why. Mercile employees were vile humans who caused him pain and kept him at their mercy. They had none. They were cruel, cunning, vicious adversaries. Even females were cruel at Mercile.

He pulled back his lip into a snarl as he turned his head again to stare down at the female. Enemy. Human. Kill. He hesitated, unable to do it regardless of his need to seek vengeance on one of them. His lungs constricted again and it was difficult to draw breath as tenderness swamped his senses. It was a foreign concept.