Page 44 of Sun's Roar

Helena’s fingers dug into the leather seat as Victor’s hand rested heavily on her thigh, his implication hanging in the air between them. Her mind scrambled to interpret his words in the most innocent way possible.

“You mean you want to be in the kitchen with me? Collaborating on menus?” she asked, finding it difficult to keep her voice steady.

Victor’s laugh was cold and hollow, echoing in the confined space of the luxury SUV. “Oh, Helena. I’m not interested in recipes or restaurant operations.” His fingers traced small circles on her leg. “The collaboration I’m proposing has nothing to do with cooking—at least not the kind that happens in a kitchen.”

The car felt increasingly warm as her emotions stirred the fire within her.

“I know what you are,” Victor continued, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. “I saw what you did at the restaurant. That fire didn’t start from a kitchen accident.”

Helena’s heart thundered in her chest. Sol’s warning crashed through her mind like thunder:There are bad people out there who would use you, hurt you, even kill you for the power you possess.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to shift away from his touch.

“Don’t play coy. It doesn’t suit you.” Victor’s grip tightened on her thigh. “Such remarkable power, and in a human, no less. Do you have any idea what we could accomplish together?”

Helena glanced out the window, panic rising as she realized they were deep in the forest, miles from any main road. The trees closed in like prison bars, their branches scratching at the darkening sky.

Why didn’t I listen to Sol? Why was I so stubborn?

“We’re not going to the restaurant, are we?” Her voice sounded small even to her own ears.

Victor smiled, his teeth gleaming in the dim light of the dashboard. “You’ll be staying with me from now on. Somewhere private where we can explore the full extent of your abilities without interruption.”

“So what was all that talk about Sol being paranoid. That he was trapping me to stay with him.”

“It’s all true,” he replied. “And I’m doing the same. You didn’t plan on going back to the castle, did you?”

She looked away. He was right. She hadn’t planned on going back. But she hadn’t thought Victor was as bad as Sol said.

“You lied to me,” she said. “All of our phone conversation was just to get me to leave.”

“And you did.” He grinned. “You should’ve listened to your prince.”

“I see why he kicked you out of the pack.”

His hand clinched on her upper thigh, and Helena’s stomach churned with disgust. Heat flared under her skin, racing through her veins like lava.

“Don’t touch me,” she warned, the leather seat beginning to warm beneath her palms.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said casually as if discussing the weather. “I have big plans for us, Helena. We could be the most powerful couple this world has ever seen.” He licked his lips, his eyes hungry and calculating. “Of course, that depends on your willingness to do exactly what I demand. But I promise you’ll enjoy it—eventually.”

Bile rose in Helena’s throat. Not only was he planning to use her powers, but his intentions went beyond that to something far more violating. The heat inside her surged, responding to her fury and fear.

Sol was right. He was right about everything.

“I’d rather burn this car to the ground than let you touch me again,” Helena hissed, feeling the first sparks of fire ignite at her fingertips. The sensation was becoming familiar now—a tingling warmth that gathered in her core and spread outward, seeking release.

Victor’s expression hardened. “That’s not how this works. You don’t have a choice anymore.” His hand moved higher still. “You foolishly walked away from your protector. Now you belong to me.”

SEVENTEEN

SOL

Sol sat naked on the bed, staring blankly at the door Helena had just walked out of. The sheets underneath him still held her scent—cinnamon and vanilla. His chest felt hollow like someone had carved out everything inside him with a dull knife.

Centuries of living, and nothing had prepared him for this particular pain.

“Fuck this,” he growled, surging to his feet. His wolf scratched at his insides, raging at the abandonment. He snatched his pants from the floor and yanked them on, followed by his shirt, which he buttoned with shaky fingers.

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