Zael nodded. “Selene was betrayed by her consort—a human. He stole two of the crystals and gave them to your ancestors,” he said, looking at Lucan. “For a population of Atlantis’s size at that time, the three remaining crystals weren’t enough to hold the shield in place.”
Lucan studied the crystal that still glowed and pulsed in Zael’s hands. “That’s how the Ancients were able to launch their attack.”
“And then they used them to power their bombs,” Jenna added. “I’ve seen it in the Ancient’s memories. They created a beam of light that ignited the explosion in the ocean off Atlantis’s shore. Then the tsunami swept in and destroyed everything in its path.”
Zael hadn’t know the specifics of the Ancients’ assault on the realm, but he had guessed at something like Jenna described.
Lucan’s gaze came back to meet Zael’s. “And you’re certain Selene won’t risk weakening her shield now to use her crystal against anyone?”
“She’d be a fool to try. And Selene is no fool.”
“I sure as hell hope you’re right.”
So did Zael, although he kept that hope to himself.
Because if Selene’s need for vengeance should eventually overrule her logic and reason, everyone on this planet would be doomed.
CHAPTER 9
Brynne returned to her suite next to the library, her mind spinning from all she had learned over breakfast with Tavia and the other women.
The investigator in her had been fascinated by the facts of Jordana’s incredible origins. She’d listened raptly over a plate of crepes and fresh fruit as the pale blonde beauty had described the events surrounding her father’s efforts to safeguard his infant daughter.
Not to mention the powerful crystal he’d taken from the Atlantean realm.
Cassianus had gone to extraordinary lengths to keep both of his treasures from falling back into Selene’s hands.
Then there was Zael. From the way Jordana told the story, he had been ready to sacrifice anything for her safety too.
As professionally intrigued as Brynne had been about the details concerning the Atlanteans, their dangerous queen, and the powerful crystals at the center of so much bloodshed and strife, the woman in Brynne was equally fascinated by the deepening paradox that was Zael.
She couldn’t help thinking that perhaps she’d judged him too hastily, and too harshly.
That had long been one of her many flaws when it came to dealing with anyone—and not something she found easy to change. After all, she’d found out a long time ago that life was a hell of a lot easier to survive when it was lived in basic black or white. Things were either right or wrong, good or bad.
The people around her were either on her side or against her.
Friend or enemy.
With Zael, her old methods didn’t seem to hold up. Everything about the male shook the firm foundation she’d constructed for herself. He seemed to understand that too. Even worse, he seemed to enjoy knocking her off kilter, making her question herself. Making her squirm.
Lord knew he did that all too well.
She thought she’d had him pegged, but he kept proving her wrong. Now that she was forced to look at him in the flattering light of Jordana’s praise and affection, Brynne didn’t know what to think about Zael.
Stepping into the solace of her guest room, she hoped to find a few moments alone to rest and freshen up. She needed a shower and a change of clothes, the latter having been generously provided by Gabrielle. A light blouse and pressed linen slacks were folded neatly at the end of the bed. Brynne traced her fingers over the crisp fabric, moved by how readily everyone in the Order had welcomed her.
That didn’t mean she wanted to stay.
It didn’t mean she could. Not for long, anyway.
Not without letting them all see what was wrong with her.
Not without earning everyone’s fear—and rightly so.
Because sooner or later, she would need to feed. Not on fancy breakfasts or other human food she was fortunate enough to enjoy in spite of her Breed genetics. Sooner—rather than later—she would need to nourish herself with blood.
An act that was as normal as breathing for any other member of the Breed was torment for her. Damned if she drank and damned if she didn’t, Brynne had grown accustomed to stringing herself out as long as she could, if only to avoid the pain . . . the horror.
The shame.
She only hoped she could last until she was able to return to London and resume her life. What remained of it, that is.
Zael had accused her of being lonely and he was right.
He was right about so much where she was concerned, and it terrified her that he could see through her so easily when she’d worked all her life to shelter herself.
With her thoughts dimmed by the reality of her existence, Brynne drifted farther into her private suite. Sunlight streaming in through the parted drapes drew her across the soft Persian rug to the window where the estate’s grounds spread out in an explosion of lush green and brightly colored blooms.
She had forgotten how breathtaking the back gardens were. Flowering bushes and elegant topiary trees complimented an intersecting maze of manicured hedges that meandered from one corner of the grounds to another. Off the back of the mansion, a broad terrace patio led out to flagstone walking paths that drew the eye from one tranquil corner of the grounds to the other.
And that’s when she saw him.
Zael, standing in the center of the garden with his head tipped back, muscular arms spread wide open beneath the morning rays. This was almost exactly how she’d found him that other morning here at the Order’s headquarters. The day they’d met for the first time.
As she had then, Brynne froze, utterly transfixed by the sight of him.
Bare-chested, his smooth skin and copper-shot, golden hair gilded by sunlight, Zael seemed to both absorb and reflect the sun’s rays as he stood there, engrossed in his private ritual. Light radiated from the impressive outline of his body, gathering with brighter intensity in the open palms of his upturned hands.
He was unearthly…powerful.
Heart-stoppingly sexy.
She tried not to stare, but it was futile. Against her will, she felt those strong arms wrapped around her the way they had been on that dance floor. Warm, sheltering, so unexpectedly tender.
She could still taste his kiss. Catching her lip between her teeth and the tips of her emerging fangs, she groaned with the memory of his mouth on hers.
She wanted him.
And, maybe, she acknowledged ruefully, she had been wrong about him. After hearing what he’d done for his friend, Cass, and Jordana, Brynne struggled to hold on to her initial opinion of Zael.
In fact, she struggled to do much else right now besides gaze at him from her window and try to resist the urge to go out to the garden and join him. If for no other reason than to try to unlock their horns and see if they could move forward as something other than adversaries.
Not that they’d felt anything close to adversarial on that dance floor in London.
And not that the low thrum of her pulse had anything to do with making peace with him and moving on as if their kiss—and her embarrassing proposition—hadn’t happened.
Brynne gnawed her lip in silent indecision as she watched him slowly lower his arms to his sides. She was about to collect her nerve and hurry down when Zael lowered his head, turning to face someone who approached him in the gardens.
Brynne’s breath halted in her lungs. The woman was beautiful. Flame-red waves bounced as she walked, her beaming smile trained fully on Zael. She raised her hand in greeting to him.
He knew her. His answering smile conveyed recognition, affection. The way he opened his arms to her then enfolded her within them seemed to say that Zael felt something more than simple affection for this woman.
Brynne reflexively stepped back from the window, feeling awkward and intrusive.
Feeling stung.
She wat
ched from within the shadows of her room as Zael and the woman finally released each other from their unrushed embrace, then began a leisurely walk together in the gardens.
Apparently, the Atlantean had no shortage of fawning admirers among the Order.
He certainly didn’t need Brynne feeding his oversized ego any more than she already had.
With an unimpressed roll of her eyes, she pivoted away from the window. Although she’d come back to her room to relax, she knew if she stayed in there now she’d only be tempted back to the window eventually to look some more for Zael and his smitten female companion.
Instead, Brynne took her time showering, then slipped into her fresh clothes. She couldn’t deny that she was still rankled by her reaction to Zael and the other woman, but the suds and warm water had washed away most of her indignation’s edge.
She hoped the vast collection of books in the library next door would be enough to keep her mind distracted from any further thoughts of Zael for the rest of the day. With her damp hair falling in loose waves down her back, she padded out of her suite and into the adjacent room.
With any luck, Zael would not only be finished chatting up his pretty friend, but also be gone from Order headquarters long before Brynne had to leave her cozy third floor sanctuary.
Resolved to stay where she was until Tavia or someone else came to drag her out, Brynne perused the bookcases. Everything from contemporary novels and classics, to history and biographies, foreign language novels and poetry filled the beautiful old wood shelves. She browsed several different titles, flipping through the pages with preoccupied disinterest.
Wondering who Zael’s companion was and trying not to imagine how many other beautiful women the Atlantean probably had wrapped around his finger.
Not to mention other parts of his anatomy.
A female’s laughter sounded somewhere near the far end of the hallway. The warm, happy sound snapped Brynne’s head up from the tenth or twentieth book she’d taken from the shelf and replaced.
She didn’t recognize the woman’s pleasant voice.
But she did recognize Zael’s. “I enjoyed our walk, Dylan. I hope we can find time to talk some more while I’m here.”
A sharp, bitter emotion stabbed Brynne at the sincerity she heard in his tone.
“I never dreamed we’d have this chance to reconnect and spend time together like this,” the woman said. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me, Zael.”
“To me as well.”
Ugh, please. Brynne’s unwilling jealousy morphed into alarm an instant later when she realized the pair was coming her way up the corridor.
Too late to make a smooth escape now, she was trapped where she stood. Or faced with the even less attractive option of attempting to sneak out to the passageway ahead of them and slip back into her suite. They were too close for that already, mere steps from the library’s open door.
Instead, Brynne snatched the nearest novel off the shelf then hurried to take a seat in a high-backed wing chair, curled into it as if she’d been there for hours.
She made it barely in time to see Zael and the copper-tressed beauty pause right outside the library. He’d at least put his shirt back on since Brynne saw him outside, but the gauzy white linen was unbuttoned halfway down his bronzed chest, the sleeves rolled up to bare his tanned forearms and the leather thong that rode on his wrist.
“Here’s your guest room,” his companion announced as she opened the door directly across the hall. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
At his smile and polite nod, she went up on her toes and kissed his cheek. She pivoted and started walking away, with Zael’s bright blue eyes tender on her.
Brynne tore her gaze away, rooting her focus on the book she held open in front of her face. As much as she hoped—fervently prayed—he wouldn’t notice her there, she knew she couldn’t possibly be so fortunate.
“Brynne,” he said, surprise in his deep voice. “I didn’t realize you were in here.”
Obviously. She glanced up from her book as if she was equally unaware of him. “Hmm? I’m sorry, I was reading and not paying any attention. What did you say?”
He smirked knowingly. Damn him. “I said, I didn’t realize Dylan and I had an audience just now.”
Dylan and him. He said it with a familiarity that grated more than she wanted to acknowledge.
“You had no such thing.” To demonstrate, she held up her book. “I came in here to relax and read for a while. If you hadn’t interrupted me just now, I might not have even noticed you were there.”
Zael stepped inside, uninvited. “Engrossing stuff, is it?”
She started to reply, but the citrusy, ocean scent of him hit her senses like a drug and she couldn’t find her voice. His skin radiated heat that made her cheeks flush and her own skin feel too warm and tight on her body.
He leaned over the side of her chair, until his face was nearly level with hers. His arched brow and slow grin tugged her core, made her breath dry up in her lungs.
“Broody billionaires and red rooms of pain?” Zael chuckled. “I wouldn’t have guessed that was your particular kink, but I have to admit I’m intrigued.”
Brynne glanced at the cover and felt her face ignite. She set the book down on the side table next to the chair and folded her arms tightly across her chest. “I imagine all it takes to intrigue you is a warm pulse and a vagina.”
He stared at her shamelessly. “It’s definitely a good start.”
“You’re unbelievable.” On a huff, she stood up and walked away from him.
“Hey. Wait,” he said. He didn’t let her get far before she suddenly found him standing right in front of her, blocking her path. He frowned. “It was a joke, Brynne. Don’t tell me you’re still upset with me because of the other night?”
“I’m not upset. I’m simply not interested.”
“No? Then why are you acting like a jealous lov—” He drew back, a look of confusion on his face. “What do you think you saw between Dylan and me just now?”
“Nothing,” she denied, then doubled down on the lie. “I could not possibly care less what’s going on with you or any of the females you keep company with. I came in here to read and relax. Alone. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find somewhere else to do that now.”
She stepped around him, disgusted with herself for the bitter anger flooding her veins. She should be pleased he was directing his attention on another woman. She certainly had bigger things to worry about in her life than this male or anything he—
“Dylan is my daughter.”
Brynne’s feet stilled beneath her, two paces short of her escape. Slowly, she pivoted to face him again. “Your daughter?”
That explained the intimacy, the affection she saw in both of them. That explained Zael’s obvious tenderness toward the woman.
Brynne had no experience with parental bonds, or the skills to recognize them. She’d never had anything close to that in her life. Her own parents were unwilling laboratory prisoners forced together as part of a sick breeding experiment. She’d never seen either one of them, and both were long dead now.
According to Brynne’s research, the Breedmate who bore her had never escaped the lab. And while the Ancient who sired her and Tavia and all the rest of their dozens of half-sisters had eventually managed to break away from his captor some two decades ago, it was only to wreak havoc and cut a bloody swath across thousands of miles before being killed in a confrontation with the Order.
Brynne was little more than a genetic cocktail of monster and innocent—a fucked up mixture besides.
“I found out about Dylan when I came to meet with Lucan the first time,” Zael explained, his deep voice level and sincere. “She’s mated to one of the warriors, Rio. For more than twenty years she’s been a part of the Order’s family, but until last week I didn’t even know she existed.”
How stupid she felt now, how petty, for assuming the worst about him. Again
. But why wouldn’t she? Zael seemed to take great pleasure in provoking her and then gloating over her reaction.
But he wasn’t needling her now. When he spoke, his tone had been solemn, edged with something that sounded unmistakably like regret.
“I met Dylan’s mother many years ago in Greece. I was passing through and she was on holiday from the States. She was also married. She wasn’t happy, but that doesn’t excuse the way I pursued her. We had a brief affair, then went our separate ways. I . . . never saw her again.”
An affair with someone else’s wife wasn’t something he was proud of—that much was certain. But Zael wasn’t telling her everything. Brynne’s investigative training spotted the dodge around the full truth. She also thought she detected a note of shame behind those fathomless blue eyes—shame that went beyond what he felt about seducing a married woman.
But it didn’t matter what he kept from her. Brynne hadn’t been forthright with him about every shame in her life either. She wasn’t about to start now.
Reminded of all the reasons she could never drop her guard with anyone, she steeled herself against the softening of her feelings for him.
“Congratulations on your reunion with your daughter. I’m sure it must be difficult keeping track of all the fruits of your affairs.”
He stared at her, clearly taken aback. She couldn’t blame him. It was a cheap shot, but she was desperate.
She turned to head back for the door, but this time Zael grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back to him. His strength was a shock. As was the fury and confusion she saw smoldering in his narrowed glower.
“What are you doing, Brynne?” His low voice dropped to a fierce growl. “Why do you try so hard to push people away?”
She scowled, feeling her blood start to race. She didn’t know if it was fear or fury causing her veins to light up. All she knew was that she was treading on dangerous ground with him now. Had been practically from the first moment they met. “Let go of me.”
He didn’t. Slowly, he shook his head. “Tell me why you fight so hard to be left alone. What are you so damned afraid of?”