Chapter 3

Jefferson didn't head for the ramp of the ship. He bypassed it entirely, walking toward the sheer edge of the cliff the camp was built upon.

Cassandra opened her eyes. She saw the jagged rocks dropping off into an abyss of black nothingness.

Her heart leaped into her throat. "What are you doing?" she screamed, her voice shrill with terror. "Stop!"

She tightened her grip around his neck, practically choking him.

Jefferson's body went completely rigid.

Then, with a sharp, metallic clack, two massive golden wings erupted from the pack on his back. They snapped open, their span easily ten feet across.

He stepped off the edge of the cliff.

Cassandra shrieked, burying her face into his shoulder, waiting for the sickening sensation of falling.

It never came.

Instead, a powerful thrust pushed her heavily against his back. The wind roared in her ears, tearing at her hair.

She cracked one eye open.

They were ascending. The ground fell away rapidly. The dark jungle below transformed into a sprawling, glowing tapestry of bioluminescent rivers and neon flora. A massive, silver moon hung in the sky, casting a pale light over the alien landscape.

The sheer beauty of it punched the breath out of her. Her terror slowly dissolved, replaced by a profound, paralyzing awe.

She loosened her death grip on his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder, letting her body relax against his solid frame. The rhythmic, powerful beats of his metallic wings sent a steady vibration through his chest and into hers.

He was so warm.

As she turned her head to look at the horizon, her cheek brushed against the side of his face. She noticed a small, intricate silver stud piercing the upper cartilage of his left ear. It pulsed with a faint blue light, matching the comm-link on his wrist.

Without thinking, driven by pure curiosity, Cassandra reached up.

Her index finger brushed against the silver stud, her skin lightly grazing the sensitive shell of his ear.

Jefferson violently flinched.

It wasn't a small startle. His entire massive frame jerked. The steady beat of his wings faltered, causing them to drop ten feet in a stomach-churning freefall before he caught the air again.

Cassandra gasped, snatching her hand back and clutching his shoulder. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, what's wrong?"

Jefferson didn't answer.

Beneath her, his muscles were locked as tight as coiled steel. His breathing, which had been steady and controlled, suddenly turned ragged and harsh.

He was fighting a war inside his own body.

For an Alpha, the ears were a dense network of nerve endings, intimately connected to their feral instincts. To be touched there by a Prime-the only Prime in existence-was a sensory overload of catastrophic proportions.

A heavy, liquid heat pooled in Jefferson's lower abdomen. His fangs ached against his bottom lip. The overwhelming, violent urge to turn his head, bury his face in her neck, and inhale her scent clawed at his sanity.

He clamped his jaw shut so hard his teeth ground together. He forced his eyes to remain fixed on the distant lights of the military base.

Control. He commanded himself. Control.

"What happened?" Cassandra asked again, her voice small, feeling the unnatural tension radiating from him.

Jefferson swallowed hard. His throat bobbed.

"No... thing," he grunted. His voice was an octave deeper than before, rough and strained, like rocks grinding together.

Cassandra bit her lip. She didn't believe him, but she didn't dare move again. She kept her hands flat against his chest, hyper-aware of the rapid, heavy thud of his heart beneath her palms.

The air between them felt thick, charged with an invisible static electricity that made Cassandra's skin prickle. Her own cheeks felt hot. The intimacy of the position-her legs wrapped around his waist, her chest pressed to his back-suddenly felt suffocatingly intense.

They flew in silence for another ten minutes.

A sprawling fortress of dark metal and bright floodlights emerged from the landscape. The First Military Base.

Jefferson banked sharply, aiming for a wide landing pad on the highest tower.

He touched down with perfect precision, his boots hitting the metal grating without a sound. His wings folded back into their housing with a sharp click.

He crouched down, allowing Cassandra to slide off his back.

As her feet hit the ground, she stumbled slightly, her legs numb from the flight.

Jefferson's hand shot out, gripping her elbow to steady her. His fingers were scorching hot against her bare skin.

The moment she regained her balance, he dropped his hand as if he had been burned.

He stood up to his full height. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on the metal wall behind her, deliberately avoiding her eyes.

"Come," he said, his voice tight. He turned and walked toward the heavy blast doors, leaving Cassandra to hurry after him, her mind spinning with confusion.