Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

“I asked you what your name is,” he whispered into her pulse.

Rusti took a deep breath and made herself remain perfectly still, unflinching. If they were playing a game, she was not going to make a wrong move. “My name is Tempest Trine. But everyone calls me Rusti.”

His white teeth flashed again. He looked like a hungry predator eyeing its prey. “Tempest. It suits you. I am Darius. I am the guardian of this troupe. What I say goes. Obviously you’ve made the acquaintance of my younger sister, Desari. Have you met the others?” He felt an unfamiliar rage rip through him at the mere thought of any of the other men around her. And in that moment he knew that until he made Tempest his, he was extremely dangerous, not only to mortals but to his own kind as well. In all his centuries of existence, even in the early years, when joy and pain still existed for him, he had never experienced such jealousy, possessiveness, or any other emotion remotely like it. He had not known what rage felt like until that moment. It was sobering to realize just how much power this small human woman wielded.

Rusti shook her head. She edged away from his intensity, from the way he made her heart pound in alarm, glancing frantically at the rear door. But Darius was too close for her to make good her escape. So she looked to the big cats, then focused and aimed her thoughts at them, a talent she had had since birth, though one she would never admit aloud.

The smaller of the two leopards, the one with the lighter coat, moved between her and Darius and showed her teeth in a warning snarl. Darius reached down and laid a calming hand on the cat’s head. Be still, fade friend. I would not harm this one. She seeks to leave us. I feel it in her mind. I cannot allow such a thing. You would not wish it either.

At once the cat moved to position itself in front of the rear door, leaving Rusti no chance of escape. “Traitor,” she hissed at the leopard under her breath, forgetting herself.

Darius rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully.

“You are an unusual woman. You communicated silently with the animals?”

She looked guilty, ducking her head, her eyes shirting away from him as she pressed the back of her hand to her soft, trembling mouth. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. If anyone’s communicating with the animals, it’s you. The cat’s in front of the door. Not only everyone but everything obeys you, huh?”

He nodded slowly. “Everyone in my domain, and that now includes you. You are not to leave. We need you as much as you need us. Did Desari assign you a place to sleep?” He felt not only her hunger but also her fatigue. It beat at him, inside him, so that his every protective male instinct roared to life.

Rusti stared up at him, measuring her options. Somewhere deep inside herself, she knew that Darius had taken away her choices. He would not allow her to leave. She saw that in the merciless line of his mouth, the implacable resolve stamped on his features, and his soulless black eyes. She could pretend if she wanted to, leave it unspoken between them, not challenge him. Power clung to him like a second skin. She had been in dangerous situations before, but this felt entirely different. She wanted to run… and she wanted to stay.

Darius reached out and tipped up her chin with two fingers so that he could stare directly into her green eyes. Two fingers. That was all. But it felt as if he had put chains on her, bound them together in some inexplicable manner. She felt the impact of his gaze burning into her, branding her as his.

The tip of her tongue nervously moistened her full lower lip. Darius’s body clenched in hot, hard, urgent demand. “You are not going to run, Tempest. Do not think you can get away. You need the job. We need you with us. Just follow the rules.”