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  “You mean…spank her?” Tragar had asked incredulously.

  Xen’dex had nodded.

  “Indeed. Before the two parts of the Khalla merge, the Kit’tara is a reckless force—all appetite and no caution. She is like a defiant child, intent on getting what she wants. And like a defiant child, she does not enjoy punishment. So you must use whatever means necessary to drive her back. If not, the Kit’tara may force the Khalla to go through the stages of Tenrah too quickly and cause madness or death as it emerges.”

  It was only this old memory that Tragar had to go on—only the hope that he could keep Emily safe from herself and from the new hungers and desires being born inside her that led him to do as he did now. He would never have raised a hand to a female otherwise—especially not a Khalla. He gave her another hard, measured slap to her bare buttocks and noticed that she had suddenly gone limp in his lap.

  “Khalla?” he muttered uncertainly. “Emily?”

  Then he heard the soft sound of her sobbing and his heart clenched in his chest.

  Gods, what had he done?

  Chapter Nine

  Emily finally stopped struggling and lay limp across the big Kindred’s knee, the tears rolling down her cheeks. The other had at last receded and with her she had taken the shameless lust and reckless desire Emily had been feeling ever since she took the first, deep breath of his scent and lost herself in need. She was left with only a sense of shame so deep it seared her to the bone.

  Oh God, the way I acted…the way I came on to him…I practically begged for it! It was the same way she had acted with Grayson all those years ago back in college. The same behavior which had gotten her into the worst situation of her life. But do I learn from my past mistakes? Do I? Oh, no—I have to go and repeat them! Repeat them and make a fool of myself. God, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I control myself?

  She had no answers for the questions. It was tempting to blame the other and say it was all her fault but though Emily tried, she knew deep down it wasn’t a valid excuse. “Your Kit’tara is part of you,” Tragar had told her and she knew it was true though she didn’t want to acknowledge it. She wouldn’t have acted that way if somewhere, down inside, she didn’t want to.

  “Khalla? Emily?” The spanking stopped abruptly which was a relief—that big hand of his really hurt when it connected. But even when the pain stopped, she couldn’t stop the tears. “Emily?” he asked again and raised her gently to look her in the face.

  “Don’t.” Emily pulled away from him and tried to sit on the side of the bed but her bottom was much too sore. “Ouch!” She jumped and turned on her side, rolling away from him.

  He got up without a word and left her there. Emily didn’t blame him. After the way she’d thrown herself at him, of course he wanted to get away. That thought didn’t help the pain and shame she felt, however. Rolling onto her stomach in the middle of the vast bed, she buried her face in the gold and red coverlet and let the sobs take her.

  Why am I like this? What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I fight the urges—fight the other when she comes forward?

  Maybe because you don’t want to fight her, whispered a snarky little voice in her brain. Maybe because you’re bad and you want bad things…wrong things…maybe you deserve everything that’s ever happened to you…

  The flow of self recrimination was cut off abruptly when something damp and soothing was applied to her stinging bottom.

  “Oh!” Emily jumped and looked around to see Tragar sitting beside her. He had a bowl filled with liquid in one hand and with the other, he was pressing what felt like some kind of cool compress to her wounded behind. “What…” Emily cleared her throat and tried again. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to make amends.” His rumbling voice sounded deeply remorseful. “Will you allow it?”

  “I…um…” Emily suddenly became aware that her nighty was still rucked up and her panties were down around her knees. She felt almost unbearably exposed but her ass really did hurt and the cool cloth was as soft as silk to her stinging flesh. Tragar was watching her patiently, waiting to hear her answer. Finally, she nodded and buried her face in her arms. “All right,” she whispered.

  “Forgive me.” His deep voice was surprisingly filled with pain. “I told you there are ways to hold the Kalor back but I didn’t want to use them on you. I…I felt I had no choice.”

  Emily felt a jagged little laugh escape her. “Of course not. “I gave you ample reason to do what you did.”

  “It was the only way to drive your Kit’tara back,” he murmured, dipping the cloth in the bowl again and pressing it gently to her sore bottom. “You were becoming most…insistent.”

  “Insistent about throwing myself at you. And asking you to…to… Oh God…” Emily muffled a fresh sob against her arm. “God, I’m so sorry…”

  “No.” Suddenly she was being lifted from the bed until she came face to face with him. The big Kindred held her gently but firmly by the arms and looked into her eyes. “No,” he said again, frowning. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

  “Yes I do after the way I acted—the way I let her make me act,” Emily flared at him.

  “The Kit’tara is a force to be reckoned with,” he said gruffly. “When it emerges, it brings uncontrollable desires…unquenchable lusts. You are not to blame for any of that.”

  “Yes, I am,” Emily said stubbornly. “I should have controlled it—should have found a way to shut it down somehow.”

  He frowned.

  “There was no way for you to—”

  “You don’t understand,” Emily interrupted. “That—what I was doing? The way I was acting? That was exactly how I was acting the night Grayson and I…the night he…that night.”

  Emily didn’t know why she was telling him this—admitting things she hadn’t even told her older sister, who was the only one she’d confided to about what had happened. But somehow once she started, she couldn’t seem to stop.

  “I…I was all over him,” she whispered brokenly. “Right out in the bar in the open—everyone saw it. I was shameless—exactly the way I was with you just now. Only Grayson didn’t try to stop me—or himself.”

  “Of course not. He is a male without honor.” He sounded angry now but Emily could tell it wasn’t at her—he was still enraged at Grayson. It made her feel better to hear the anger in his voice and know it was directed at her attacker but she still wasn’t sure she deserved his absolution.

  “I didn’t want him to stop,” she said in a low voice. “Not at first. Not until he started to…to put…to put himself inside of me.” God, she could barely get the words out but somehow they had to come. This was like a wound that had been festering much too long—the poison had to come out. The big Kindred seemed to understand.

  “Go on,” he murmured though there was a pained expression on his face. “Say what you need to say.”

  “He…it…” Emily shook her head, trying to put what had happened into words. “I wanted it so much—felt like I’d die if I didn’t have it. If I didn’t get…”

  “Get bred,” he finished for her.

  Emily looked down at her hands. “I was going to say if I didn’t get fucked.”

  “Breeding is the culmination of Tenrah,” he told her. “But it must not happen until the Khalla has passed through all four stages. An early breeding often means death.”

  “I wanted to die,” Emily whispered, looking up at him. “It…it hurt so much. But it wasn’t just the pain. It was the…the wrongness.” She shook her head. “I can’t explain it any better than that. It just felt so awful… like I was doing something unnatural and sick. Something perverted…”

  “He wasn’t your species,” Tragar rumbled. “Your body knew that. A male Kindred can mate with almost any receptive female, no matter the species. But a Khalla can only be bred by one of her own kind.”

  “So that’s why it hurt so much? Why it felt so wrong?” Emily shivered. “I mean aside from the fact that h