His eyes on hers, he flicked open the clasp of her overnji. She flinched.As if he owned her, he leisurely trailed his fingers over the fluttering vein in her neck, pausing just a moment to trace the dragonfly on her necklace. Her breathing picked up, and he smiled at the unmistakable scent of charmer desire. For a moment he forgot it was terror and not passion he was supposed to inspire, and he reveled in her response. With his eyes half closed, he drank deeply of her intoxicating perfume.Whether he knew it or not, Keilor wasn’t a man in control. No man could be so close to a charmer and remain his own.He shook his head as he remembered this was supposed to be a lesson, not a seduction.

Jasmine stiffened, considering the ramifications of a really enraged Keilor. If he did what he’d done to her that afternoon over a minor infraction, what would he do to her for threatening his life? It didn’t bear thinking about.Besides, she didn’t think she could shoot him, not even a warning shot. Just the thought of it turned her insides cold. She sighed, admitting temporary defeat.She’d have to sleep on it. “Of course it would work,” Jasmine insisted. Gravel crunched under her new boots as she followed the path to the stables. Her brown ponytail swished across the back of h

The hallway opened up unto the head of a broad staircase leading to an inner courtyard, and she stared in awe at the view of the triple moons and scattered stars. Slowly she sank down to absorb the view. The evening breeze caressed her cheek, pleasant with the scent of flowers. Her guard settled unobtrusively against the wall.After a time, curiosity got to her. “You guys don’t talk much, do you?” she said softly, loathe to break the serenity of the night. To her surprise, the Haunt answered her in the sign language she’d seen the guards use. When she continued to watch him, he repeated himself slowly, fingers to chest, an inclination of his head and then fingers to lips.“You do talk?” she guessed, intrigued. Hm. This could be fun.

Wiley drew in a shocked breath of protest, but choked on her own saliva. While Jayems thumped her on the back, Keilor regarded her intently. “Strip poker?” Jasmine looked down and tapped her finger on the table, her nerves jangling a warning. And whe

Not about to let her slip back into self-pity since he’d gotten her this far, he stepped into her space. Boxed in on all sides, she had no choice but to look at him. He let his eyes light with golden fire and spoke with contempt. Fear would serve her better than pity, would stir up constructive anger. “I order you to serve my cousin tonight,” he told her with soft menace. “If you doubt my authority to do so, I will gladly demonstrate why the Haunt are so feared.” Anger narrowed her eyes, and just a trace of doubt. He could s