Luara woke up to Rayder's hot breath brushing her neck. His scent—burnt wood and storm—tried to wrap around her skin as if it still had permission. The irritation rose so fast it burned away any remnant of sleepiness. She shoved Rayder hard; his body hit the mattress and slid to the floor.

Rayder lifted his face, eyes clouded with desire and frustration.

"Come with me." The voice came out low and urgent. "You still want me, Luara."

She stared at him like she was facing ...