Chapter 1

The nightmares are always the same. Claws piercing my sides, the flapping of great wings. Fear pulls me until I'm thin and brittle, finally breaking, screaming as I plummet from the sky. I wake in free fall, never sure if I'm awake or asleep. Never sure if the nightmare has ended.

Today is no different, and I breathe slowly, orienting myself until the worst of the panic subsides.

I stretch slightly, not wanting to open my eyes and face the world. I don't think I'll ever get used to this world. Earth is a memory now. Extra hot double shot vanilla lattes and long, leisurely Target runs are a thing of the past. Heck, leggings and sports bras are even in the rearview, and I never realized how much I'd taken them for granted. Thankfully, there's some semblance of indoor plumbing in this world, or I'd be even more pissed about everything.

My pillow muffles a humorless laugh. Like that's even possible.

I'll never be used to waking with great gasping breaths, my legs tangled in sheets and my palms slicked with sweat. I'll never be used to the infinite expanse of the black, vaulted ceiling that soars overhead, the sun's rays glinting off the gold stars painted on arches so dark they disappear into shadow like smoke.

How can I get used to this place, when my first memories of it are what make up the nightmares that leave me weak and screaming and sleepless?

Ugh. There's no more putting off getting up. Laying here, dreading the day, only makes it worse. I gulp a breath, and it catches in my chest, turning into a slight sob. My entire body shudders as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The floor chills the soles of my feet, and I push my sweat-soaked hair from my forehead, blinking rapidly against the stinging in my eyes.

Slowly, I step towards the cabinet that holds a hammered silver basin full of water. A ragged laugh spills from my throat, echoing around the empty, massive room. The first beams of light trickle through the arched doors leading to a balcony on the side of Lesath's home.

Not my home. His home. Never mine.

I splash the cold water on my face, trying not to think too hard about whether I was simply sweating in my sleep or crying in it. Again.

The surface of the cabinet is cool, and I brace my hands against it, tipping my head back and studying the glimmering painted constellations barely visible on the ceiling.

The tower room he locked me in wasn't nearly as nice as this.

Rage and hopelessness war inside me, and I ball my hand into a fist, slamming it into the cabinet, hard enough that it hurts.

Which was stupid. Wincing, I cradle my hand and find the same sundress I've worn for weeks now. The same one I wore when my sisters and I wished our way here, to Vraya, an entire dimension away from any semblance of home. The same dress I wore for days, locked in a tower with nothing to eat or drink. Trapped by a giant scorpion.

A scorpion who is sometimes a man. Lesath.

My teeth grind together, and I ignore the fact that the dress is falling apart. It's all I've worn for the better part of a month, the last gasp of Earth I cling to even though the hems are unraveled and there's a pinky finger sized hole in the waist. I screw up my nose. It's not that I don't have anything else to wear.

In fact, there's plenty to wear, cute old-timey stuff like breeches and vests and puffy sleeved blouses that fall off the shoulder, or fancy dresses that remind me of the time my sisters came home from college and took me to the local renaissance faire. We ate our weight in turkey legs and got drunk on honey mead with our fake IDs. A small smile curves my lips at the memory, quickly fading at the knowledge that my sisters could be in danger, and that I won't ever go to a renaissance faire again, because I'm basically trapped in one. I pluck at the dress, wondering if I should change into one of the new things, but quickly discard the idea.

No. I'm going to wear it because it's mine. And maybe I like wearing it because it makes him mad. Lesath. The man everyone thinks I belong to.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection before I leave my room, and my mouth twists to the side. Well, they don't say I belong to him, not so much, but that we're "fated." A sure thing. That it's just a matter of time before I give into the pull of the bond between us and bang his brains out.

Yeah, right.

My reflection smiles at me, and it's a toothy thing. No way am I getting near enough to him to get to know him, let alone test what Danielle and Lana told me about the mating bond between us.

I may have made peace with the fact I'm not getting back to my life on Earth, that I'm not really even from Earth, that I'm one of the rare Starbound women on this planet, in this different dimension. That I can channel the power of the stars— so long as I finally mate with Lesath. I turn the thought over as I pad across the floor, not bothering with shoes.

Me and Lesath? Not gonna happen.

I snort, and it's an ugly sound. The doorknob turns under my hand, glimmering in the faint morning light, and the door opens soundlessly. The hall stretches before me, black and glossy like everything else in this place. In the early mornings, though, it's quiet, peaceful even, unlike my sleep.

The black stone floor shines with the pale light drifting through arched windows, and I pad quietly through the castle until I reach my favorite place in it. I use my shoulder to heft the huge double doors open, allowing a crack of golden sunlight to slip across the ebony floors.

The sound of rushing water fills the space, and the soft green grass caresses my feet as I step into the courtyard. Lesath's castle is in a desert, surrounded by scrub and dirt and sand and strange plants that seem like Earth cacti but are far from it. It's a harsh and barren place, and anytime I toy with the idea of running away, I'm reminded that I won't get far. I might be a survivor, but a survivalist I am not.

I suck in a deep breath, clenching my fists at my sides before continuing my path through the little oasis. This courtyard, with its ornate fountain and clear, cool water, with the emerald expanse of lawn and shade trees is a small slice of heaven in a world that seems to mock me at every turn. This seems to be the one place I can come to clear my head, a place that, in the early mornings, at least, is free of Lesath.

I sit on the fountain's edge, trailing my fingertips through the water.

There were a few days when I wondered if I'd ever sit outside again, when I was locked in that tower, forced to collect rainwater in a dusty urn. Something I was lucky to get, considering it hasn't rained here since. Forced to eat… anything I happened across. Eyes still closed, I rub a hand across my ribs, glad to feel more flesh there than bone.

Something clicks, and a memory surfaces at the sound of a massive black scorpion scaling the tower, legs clicking against the granite.

Shuddering, I open my eyes, my temporary peace fleeing.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Lesath.

I freeze, my eyes widening as he steps onto the lawn. The sun rises behind him, limning him in a growing golden light that might appear angelic around anyone else.

But his features are too sharp, cheekbones too high and jaw too severe. Dark eyed and dark haired, he puts the devil in devilishly handsome, and even though I can't stand the sight of him, I also can't look away.

It must be the mating bond, the one my sister and Danielle warned me about, because as I watch him move with a fighter's grace, heat suffuses my body. Like everything else in the castle, he's dressed in black, black leather pants, a black shirt that might be feminine on anyone else, showing off swathes of tanned chest. But his shoulders are too broad, his chest too wide, everything about him screams his physical power. No, it's not feminine on him at all. It's like the shirt advertises just how masculine he is, instead. Bronze skin peeks through the collar, the top tie undone, like he couldn't be bothered to finish dressing. My breath stutters.

Even with all he's put me through, I'm still attracted to him. Despite the fact that under that gorgeous skin, seeming as human as I am, there's a vicious monster waiting to rip free. I think that's what I hate the most, my own body's betrayal. My sister told me he was cursed— that that's the only reason he would've neglected me.

I don't care.

I'll never trust him.

He stands there, his dark brown eyes fringed with long, coal black lashes. Everything about him sets my teeth on edge.

"What do you want?" I finally manage.

Lesath raises a hand, gesturing at the space around us. "I live here. It's my courtyard."

I glare at him, crossing my arms over my chest. His speech patterns have changed since I first saw him, the old timey way he spoke giving way to sounding more like me, like my sisters. He slips sometimes, though, when I manage to piss him off. Silence unspools in thick strands between us.

"You said you thought I'd be here."

"So I did." He steps closer. Ugh. Up close, he's even more impossibly handsome. A small, traitorous part of my brain wants to close the gap between us, to inhale the spicy, manly scent of him.

I lean away instead, scowling. Stupid freaking mate bond. "What do you want?"

"I am leaving." His gaze slips from mine to the fountain burbling behind me.

A million thoughts race through my mind. He's leaving. I press a hand to my hot cheek. I should be glad. Relieved. But I don't feel that. I feel furious.

"Oh, were you planning on locking me in that goddamn tower again? Make sure to leave the window open so I can stick my head out for water if it rains." I don't know what makes me say it, other than I'm so damn angry with him my hands tremble as I stand and place them on my hips.

A hint of hurt slides across his face, and then he draws his lips back in a slow smile. What I see in his eyes, though, is anything but humor. He's pissed.

"I was not myself." The words come out softly, but there's a tension to his body, to his frame, that belies the words. This sounds like the old Lesath, the one that spoke so differently, archaically, at first.

"So you don't normally keep women locked up in your castle?" I gesture at myself, at the fact that I am very much still locked up here, too much of a burden for anyone else to take on. "Isn't that exactly what you're telling me? That you're leaving me here, locked up?"

A muscle twitches in his jaw, and he doesn't respond, just stares at me. I can't resist it, the temptation to needle him.

"I am going to Donnora." His fingers push back a lock of dark, wavy hair, his eyes half closing. Muscles bunch under his shirt, and I take a step away, grinding my teeth. Hating the fact he's so handsome. Hating that when he's around me, it's nearly all I can think about.

I choke out a laugh, and it sounds raspy. Clearing my throat, I try again.

"It's funny that you expect me to know what that is, Lesath." I wince as his name comes out of my mouth. Not because I dislike his name, but because it feels good—the way my mouth shapes the sounds of it, the way it feels right. Frustration boils over, leaving me weary.

His eyes open fully, and the anger I saw before disappears, displaced by a naked hunger that has me stepping back again—and into the fountain.

I sit heavily on the rim, barely avoiding tumbling into it. Saying his name was a mistake.

"The Donnora is a mountain lake." He steps closer, and my breathing quickens. "The air there is crisp, and fresh, and cool. The water of Donnora is so clear you can see all the way to the bottom, fathoms and fathoms down. They say that a god slumbers at the bottom, only to awaken need is high in Vraya."

"I don't care." I clamp my lips shut, trying to remain unaffected. Well, at least pretending I am unaffected. A snail edges across the path, leaving a virulent green slime in its wake.

"They say the water there is blessed, that those who drink of it will be cleansed and cured of whatever ails them."

"And you believe that?" I scoff, still watching the snail's progress. It's safer to stare at it, and the strange slime path it leaves behind, than to chance a stare up at the magnetic, devilish man opposite me.

"No."

The answer surprises me, and I turn my attention to him despite myself. His deep brown eyes are riveted to mine.

"Then why?" I finally ask.

"There is someone there I seek. A mage who can make sure I never… they say he can help." He pushes his hair out of his eyes again.

"Help with what?" I nudge a rock with my bare toe, breaking the too intense eye-contact. Why is everything with him so intense?

"With the curse."

I let out a brittle laugh. "You think even if there is a curse, even if I did believe you, that I would be able to forget what you did to me? To move on? To be your fated mate?" I inject the phrase with so much venom I'm surprised I don't sprout fangs. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

He doesn't answer, and I don't have to glance at him to know I've nailed it in one. The man doesn't know how to quit. Except he's not a man, not at all, not really.

Because we're in a different dimension, and I know the alien that lurks under his skin all too well.

"I only want to keep you safe. Have I done anything since… since then to make you think otherwise?"

For some reason, tears sting my eyes, and I stand again, skirting wide around him on the path, planning to go lock myself back in my rooms. Anything to get away from him.

His hand snakes out, gripping my hip, and before I can react, he's spun me back towards him, so close that our chests touch.

I try to speak, but this close to him, the mating bond intensifies, the connection between us singing through me so hard it aches.

"You are wrong about many things, Ali Lamn, but you are most wrong about this."

His fingers fist in the fabric of my dress. I should pull away, but I don't. I can't. He's the gravitational pull, and I exist in his orbit, circling away and back in a dance that won't stop.

The morning sun bathes his features in a warm light. I stare up at him, strangely breathless. His deep green eyes, the same eyes I've seen turn full black, have tiny golden flecks swimming in them. Heat rushes through me, heat that has nothing to do with the sun climbing in the sky behind me.

"What would you have me do, Ali Lamn? Every time I try to soften you towards me, you show me fangs and claws. When I say I'm leaving you to find help, to ensure I do not hurt you again, you grow hackles."

I push against his chest, an attempt to get away, but my palms meet rock-hard pecs. I swallow and wrench out of his grip. What would I have him do? I don't want to be at this castle, with all the nightmares it causes. I don't want to be left here—alone. I want to get away.

I want to escape. Here? In the desert, surrounded by his guards? I don't stand a chance.

Still, the words that spring from my mouth might surprise me even more than they surprise him.