Before she even considered saying it, Emery's mouth came up with the name. It was waiting there, so sure, so familiar. Pain burned through her skull like a blade slicing right through it the instant it emerged in her consciousness.
She shook from the sudden pain and gasped, sinking her fingers into the man's arms. The name escaped, barely within grasp.
When she touched him, the man tensed. He strengthened his hold on her, as though preparing for the next move. His face was still expressionless, but there was something more in his keen, dark eyes.
"Don't think about me." There was something almost regretful in his quiet voice.
Emery's breath caught in his throat. "So why do I?"
He didn't respond.
There was a shudder in the room. The floor beneath them, the lamp, and the walls all wavered and warped like a water-shattered mirror. The tiny light from the carved symbols pulsed in time with the pounding in her head.
It was falling apart here.
Or perhaps—reforming.
Another
