“Vela,” she said. “My name is Vela.” As she eased down onto his chest, and found his lips with her own, as he once more drove his tongue deep inside, she thought forever seemed like too short a time.

He tasted of smoke and chocolate and man. She felt dizzy and aroused, ready to take things to the next level, when a woman called to her by name, “Vela.” Whoever the woman was, she needed her to go away.

She kept kissing her warrior.

“Vela, can you hear me?” The woman’s voice sounded familiar, but she was too busy right now to respond. Samuel had his tongue in her mouth and it felt so good. She hadn’t been kissed in years, not in years, and she wanted more, a lot more. She wanted everything. Now.

“Vela,” the woman called again, more stridently this time. “Can you stop what you’re doing for just a quick sec and talk to me?” She had her hands knotted in Samuel’s hair and she didn’t want to talk.

His hands kneaded her ass and she could feel all his male goodness pressed against her.

“Vela, listen to me. You’re caught in t h e breh-hedden, try to process that.

You’ve never even met the man you’re kissing right now, have you?” How the hell did the woman know she was kissing Samuel? Even Thorne hadn’t been able to see her.

As though having read her mind, the woman added, “I can see you kissing Warrior Samuel. Can you look up at me? I think you’ll be able to see me, too. I’m in the darkening with you. I have this power, as well. Your darkening ability.” Darkening power?

She felt the urge to protect her man rise up again. She pulled away from Samuel and lifted up once more to half- spider him with one leg arched between his and one arm curved over him, her fingers touching the soft workout mats just past his shoulder.

She hissed softly, at the intruder, which proved to be a beautiful woman, with red hair, surrounded in a soft glow.

Of course she knew her, who didn’t? She was Warrior Marcus’s breh.

But why was the powerful Havily Morgan spying on her, invading her secret space? How had she gotten here?

Havily stood within the black-edged boundaries of the protective place Vela had created, a glowing presence. “You need to go away, Havily. I don’t want to hurt you, but you can’t be here. I will die before I let harm come to Samuel.” Samuel’s hand was once more on her face, then on her breast, fondling. Her long hair covered his arm and hand. “Come back to me,” he whispered urgently. “I need you.” She looked down at him. “Havily is here.”

“Make her go away. I need you.” Vela shifted to glare at Havily. “You need to leave.”

“I will, if you’ll just talk to me for a minute. Otherwise, I’ll have to stay. I’m under orders.” Vela’s arms trembled holding her pose, but she wasn’t about to let anyone get Samuel. He still lay prone, one hand kneading her breast.

She caught his hand and held it still as her mind cleared a little. Havily had spoken of the darkening. So had Thorne.

Was this place the darkening? She needed to understand.

She met Havily’s gaze. “You can have one minute, then you’ll have to go.”

“Good,” Havily said. “I have just a few questions. Can you tell me how long you’ve known Warrior Samuel?” Vela looked down at him and smiled.

“Forever.” She heard Havily chuckle. “I know that feeling well. But when did you first meet him?” At that, Vela frowned and looked back at Havily.

“I…can’t quite remember.”

“Have you ever met him? I mean, been introduced?” She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”

“So when did you first see him then?” Vela leaned back just a little and her thoughts began to come together. “I was sitting on the risers when he walked by.”

“Then what happened? May I ask?” She nodded. “I caught this wonderful scent, almost like chocolate, but very male.”

“I don’t usually tell people this, but my breh, Warrior Marcus, smells like a field of wild grasses combined with fennel.” Vela smiled. Havily understood.

Havily knew.

Then she remembered Madame Endelle saying something about the breh- hedden.”

“This is the breh-hedden,” Vela said, a rush of understanding ripping through her. “Oh, my God.”

“Very much so.” Havily held her palms up. “I went through something similar with Marcus during those early days. Luken dragged Marcus off of me and Antony held me back. It was…horrible.

But later, I was completely mortified. I’m saying this so that you’ll know you’re not alone in what you’re probably feeling right now, or what you will soon experience.” Vela shifted her spidery arm and leg so that now she knelt beside Samuel. Her heart started pounding and her cheeks felt fiery hot. “Oh, my God. No.” She shifted away from Samuel, who sat up and stared at her not with lust, but with a puzzled expression. The dimming of her possessive, sexual feelings seemed to be having an effect on him.

Havily’s presence had done what otherwise would have been impossible.

She’d essentially stopped them from having sex, in the darkening, right in the middle of the Apache Junction Two Militia Warrior Headquarters workout center.

She scooted back on her knees.

“Warrior Samuel, oh, my God. I don’t know what happened.” Havily was right about one thing; Vela didn’t know him at all.

And she was mortified beyond words.

He reached his hand toward her but let it fall away before he made contact. “I am so sorry,” he said. “The need of the moment overwhelmed me. Jesus.” But as she looked into his eyes, the power of the breh-hedden began to descend on her once more, especially as another wave of his erotic chocolate scent swamped her.

His gray eyes grew wild once more.

“Yes,” he said, his gaze smoldering, boring into her. She felt herself falling back into the experience, as though to do anything else would be to defy the heavens.

“Vela,” Havily called sharply.

She drew in a deep breath and shifted her gaze back to Havily. “Oh, dear God.”

“You’ll be okay. That’s it. Just breathe. And if you can move away, it will be even better for you, or at least easier.” Vela scooted a few feet back on the mats. She reminded herself that she didn’t know this man and that he was the last thing she wanted in her life: a warrior.

She closed her eyes and forced air deep into her lungs. After a moment, when she opened them, she spoke to Havily.

“Could you give us a minute? We need to sort this out?” Havily nodded and disappeared, though a faint glow, like a trace, remained behind, an after-signature.

“If we’re going to talk,” Samuel said, “I’ll need more distance. I’m barely holding on here because all I can think about is pulling you into my arms.” She jumped to her feet because if she didn’t she’d let him do whatever he wanted to do.

“Thank you,” he said. He crossed his legs, his kilt looped into his lap. He stared at the black mats on the floor then shaded his face with one hand. “Jesus H. Christ,” he muttered.

She took another step away from him, but couldn’t keep from staring at him. He was incredibly handsome with strong cheekbones angling to an equally powerful jaw. His nose had a slight curve, maybe not as marked as Warrior Santiago’s, but for her much more appealing.

Samuel. The word floated through her mind. She caressed his name again, Samuel.

He looked up at her. Telepathy?

Her cheeks grew warm again. Yes.

You heard me call your name?

He nodded.

You spoke into my mind earlier, she sent. You called me your woman.

At that he shook his head, and with his forearms resting on his knees, he said, “I only vaguely remember. The moment you stood up, I had to go to you, to get to you.”

“ T h e breh-hedden.” She said the word out loud so that she could start making sense of it. The call to him was still there, a ferocious beast that for now she had caged, but she’d never felt anything like this, like she had to be with him, be near him, touch him, take him into her body in as many different ways as she could, and do it now.

At the same time, she felt compelled to tell him of her dream. “I saw you battle last night.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how, but I think I was in the darkening and I felt called to the Superstitions. I watched the battle, how you saved Santiago. I just didn’t know who you were.” She told him several details of the terrible encounter, that he hadn’t been in wing-mount, and that he’d used both levitation and folding skills to slay the enemy.

“My God,” he said. “Do you do this often? I mean do you have these kinds of visions about other warriors?” Her heart sank. “Never. This was the first time.”

“Then we’re connected somehow.” His jaw worked a couple of times. He pressed his lips into a grim line.

Unfolding his legs, he rose , towering over her not just with his height but with his powerful physique. She was five ten, so she wasn’t exactly short for a woman, but he made her feel petite.

“You don’t need to worry,” he said, his brows pinched once more. “I won’t come after you. I’ll leave you alone.” She sensed a deeper meaning behind his words, behind his intention, that he’d just spoken his natural state, his isolation.

What had her friends told her earlier, that Samuel never came to the workout center, that he’d been held captive for a decade and tortured, that though he was back, serving the Militia Warriors, he essentially kept to himself?

“I’m sure that would be for the best.” Yet doubt squirmed.

The past few years suddenly ripped through her mind. She realized that what had just happened between them, this sudden onslaught of the breh-hedden, had somehow illuminated what now looked like her dreary existence.

And yet, she didn’t want a man like Samuel in her life, never again. She and Jeff had been married for over six decades and all that time, day in and day out, she’d lived with the possibility that he would die in the line of duty. Then the night had come when he’d been ambushed by death vampires and her life with him had ended.