strong connection to him that she couldn’t stand the thought of him
 
 getting hurt, much less dying. It must be Stockholm syndrome. Or
 
 maybe it was because he had given her the first honest-to-goodness,
 
 real live, no-double-A-batteries-involved orgasm she’d ever had.
 
 Whether she turned out to be Patty Hearst or just some desperate girl,
 
 she didn’t want Beck’s blood staining the arena.
 
 “Yes, miss,” Rhys answered, taking a seat next to his wife. “Your
 
 tournament is the last of the day. It is also the largest. The rest of
 
 these females are just simple mates. You are very rare.”
 
 Meg let out a sigh of frustration. The whole thing was terribly
 
 confusing to her. She looked to the vampire. He didn’t seem to have a
 
 problem telling her the painful truth. “Why? Why do all these men
 
 want me?”
 
 His sunglasses receded, and he looked her in the eyes. His green
 
 eyes sparkled in the shade. “The vamps or the Fae?”
 
 “Both.”
 
 His manner took on a distinctly academic tone. “The Fae are
 
 interested in you as a bondmate. Certain Fae have psychic abilities
 
 that are greatly enhanced in the presence of a female whose brain is
 
 tuned to theirs. In Beck’s case, it’s a little more urgent. Beck was born
 
 with a symbiotic twin, Cian. Think of them as halves of a whole.
 
 Beck is the practical half. He is the warrior. Cian is the intellectual half. When symbiotic twins turn twenty-five years old, a bondmate is
 
 found for them, if they aren’t already contracted. The female forms a
 
 triad with the males. She bridges their minds through hers, and they
 
 are able to function together. It makes all three stronger. When Beck’s
 
 36
 
 Sophie Oak
 
 uncle took over Tir na nÒg, he closed the plane. He did this for
 
 several reasons, but no doubt one was to cut off his nephews from a
 
 bondmate. They have been forced to look elsewhere.”