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  At last, after a long silence, she spoke. “I…I thought you were going to heal my lip.”

  Sylvan stroked her hair which had come loose from the knot at the back of her neck and now cascaded down her shoulders in soft chestnut waves. “I thought your heart needed healing first.”

  She shifted against him, getting more comfortable. “This is nice,” she admitted softly. “I…I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”

  “The fault is entirely mine,” Sylvan murmured. “The urlich aroused my protective rage. And then I got so completely focused on marking you I forgot to consider your feelings. Can you forgive me?”

  “I…I think so.” She looked up at him. “I guess you can’t help the way you get when there’s an enemy around. But please just…don’t come at me that way again.”

  “I won’t. I swear it.” He meant it from the bottom of his heart and Sophia seemed to sense his sincerity.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze still locked with his. “I…I appreciate that.”

  “I don’t want you to fear me.” Sylvan heard the break in his own voice but he couldn’t help it. “I would die to protect you, Sophia. To think you would believe I could hurt you in any way—especially that way…” But he couldn’t go on.

  “Sylvan…” She was looking at him with something like wonder on her face. “You…you’re crying,” she whispered. She sounded like she could hardly believe it.

  Sylvan didn’t believe it himself. “No, I’m not.” He had never given in to such emotion, never allowed himself such weakness before. Even after his father’s passing and Feenah’s betrayal, not so much as a single tear had come to his eyes.

  But Sophia was nodding. “Yes, you are. Or at least, you’re sort of leaking a little.” Reaching up, she brushed lightly at his cheek. “See?” She held out her hand. To his surprise her fingertips were wet.

  “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly.

  “Why?” Sophia sounded genuinely curious.

  He shook his head. “To show such weakness before one I am supposed to protect…it is unacceptable. Unforgivable.”

  “No, it’s not.” Suddenly she put her arms around his neck and hugged him. “It’s not, Sylvan,” she whispered in his ear, pressing her soft cheek against his. “Not at all, I promise you.”

  His heart swelled until he thought it might burst and he hugged her back carefully. He no longer cared if the urlich and the AllFather with all his hellish legions came upon him and killed him. At that moment, with Sophia willingly in his arms and her sweet feminine fragrance invading his senses, he knew he could die a happy and contented male. But she’ll die too. Or be captured without you to protect her.

  Sophia must have had the same thought because after a long moment she pulled back and looked at him seriously.

  “How long do we have until they come back and find us?” she asked softly.

  Sylvan shrugged. “It could be an hour or several hours. It depends on how widely scattered their pack was in the first place and how far away the lead urlich is. They won’t form a consensus without her.”

  “Her?” She frowned. “I thought everything to do with the Scourge was male. I mean, they have the AllFather and you were saying they don’t have any females…”

  He nodded. “This is the one exception. Female urlich are craftier and more intelligent. So while the others in the pack might be male, the lead is always a female.”

  Sophie sat up straighter in his lap and looked him in the eye. “Well, whatever they are, you need to mark me before they get back to us.”

  “No.” He frowned. “No, Sophia. Absolutely not.” He’d been looking forward to the feel of her soft, naked body under his but clearly it was not to be.

  However, now that she no longer felt threatened, there was a stubborn look in her lovely green eyes. “I don’t accept that. I won’t let my…my phobia be the cause of your death.”

  A phobia, is it? They would have to address that later—if there was a later. And he wanted to know who “Burke” was too. But right now he’d barely gained her trust—he wasn’t about to throw it away for any reason. “I won’t do it,” he told her.

  “But—”

  “Think what you’re asking, Sophia,” he said gently. “If I mark you the traditional way I’ll have to be on top of you, completely naked and you’ll have to be naked as well, under me, open for me. I’ll have to be touching you, rubbing myself against you. Do you really think you can handle that with your…” He paused, trying to think how to put it. “With your phobia?” he finished, using her word.

  Sophia paled and he could see she was considering what he’d said. “No,” she said at last in a low voice. “No I…I’m pretty sure having you, uh, on top of me would probably set me off again.” She looked up at him. “But…didn’t you say earlier there was another way to, uh, to mark a female? I mean…when you were talking about…about wanting to…to taste me…” Her voice had fallen so low that he could barely hear it and her cheeks were a bright pink. “I mean, if you…if that wouldn’t bother you too much.” She looked down at her small hands as though she couldn’t stand to meet his eyes.

  Sylvan found her embarrassment both charming and incredibly arousing.

  “I could mark you with my mouth,” he said, a surge of lust rushing through him at the thought. To kneel before her and spread her open, to taste her sweet juices and lap her soft little pussy until she moans and cries…Goddess how he wanted that! But he wanted to be careful with her as well. “We Kindred have scent glands around our lips and mouths as well as between our legs,” he told her. “But I don’t want to hurt or embarrass you.”

  Sophie looked up at him again, the light of determination in her eyes. “I trust you not to hurt me and, well, being embarrassed is better than being dead,” she said in a voice that wavered only a little. “And I mean, you could just kind of…uh, rub against me some? Maybe? I mean you wouldn’t have to actually…you know.”

  “I could,” he agreed gravely. “Though I would have to be very, very thorough. The scent glands around my mouth aren’t as strong as those on my shaft.”

  “That’s all right.” She looked down at her hands again. “As long as you’re not on top of me, I think…think I can handle it. That is… if…if you really don’t mind.”

  “Sophia, look at me.” Lifting her chin gently, he made her look into his eyes. “Nothing on this world or any other would give me more pleasure than spreading you open and tasting your sweet juices,” he murmured. “You need never have a question about that.”

  “Oh,” she whispered and her cheeks were nearly crimson now. “I…thank you, I guess.”

  “But I realize,” Sylvan continued, trying to gauge her reaction. “That we’re doing this for necessity, not pleasure. So if you’d rather, I can try to keep it…” He frowned. “I don’t know the word in your language.”

  “Businesslike?” she offered. “Professional?”

  Sylvan nodded. “Yes, I guess those work. What I’m saying is, I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are. So I’ll just do what is necessary—no more, no less.”

  “Okay.” She was looking a little more comfortable with the idea now, which eased his heart. No matter how much he longed to savor her juices and bring her to orgasm again and again, her comfort was more important than his need. “Just one more thing,” she said in a small voice.

  “Anything,” Sylvan told her. “You have only to ask, Talana.”

  “I…well…I don’t want to offend you but…” She hesitated for a long moment but he waited patiently until she went on. “Could you do it…uh mark me…without letting your…your fangs come out?” she asked at last. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust you but that’s kind of a very delicate area and…and…”

  “No, it’s all right. I understand.” He nodded, trying to look unconcerned but inside his heart burned again. She still fears me. Still fears what I am. “I can do that—hold them back if I concentrate,” he said.