“Much to my dismay”—and that rang clear in the irritably flat tone of his voice—“I find I have a sudden taste for stubborn, lithe brunettes with horrible fashion sense.”

“Please stop calling me that. You’re still officially the Master.”“Oh, I know,” Malik said. “But much like Merit, I find it amusing to irritate you.”As Malik walked down the hallway and around the corner, Ethan turned his pointed gaze on me.I shrugged innocently. “I can’t help it if I’m a trendsetter.”

“I tried to tune out the sensation and, embarassed at the silvering of my eyes-I have to admit, I had a sudden, new sympathy for men faced with hiding their arousal-I squeezed them shut.”

“You drugged me,”“I didn’t want you to feel it, Merit.” His voice was soft. “You’d been attacked; you hadn’t consented. I didn’t want you to have to go through it. I didn’t want you to have to remember it.”

“He clearly wasn’t dissuaded, and stroked my jawline with his thumb. “You can run. You can keep running to the ends of the earth. But I won’t be far behind you.”

“His eyes widended again, then flicked to something behind me. He shook his head, looked back at me. His voice low, intimate, insistent. "Come back from this, Merit. You don't want to fight me.""I do," I heard, in a voice that was barely mine. "Find steel," she advised him.We advised him.He stood there a long moment, silently, still, before nodding. Someone offered him a blade, a katana that glinted in the light. He took it, mirrored my stance - katana in both hands, body bladed."If the only way you'll come back from this is to be bloodied by it, then so be it."He lunged.”

“I'm afraid,' I finally confessed.'I know.' His voice was quiet. 'I know, and it kills me that I put that fear into your eyes.”