Page 93 of Dark Rival

For one moment, he didn’t answer. Instead he sat up. “How do ye feel?”

“Sort of beat.” And she moved closer to snuggle, not really wanting to fight to sit up.

His hand closed on her shoulder. “Can ye sit?”

Of course she could sit. Allie did so, with Royce putting his arm behind her back, as if to prop her up. Instantly she snuggled against him. “I’m cold,” she said. It was probably freezing out, as it was almost dawn, but she hadn’t noticed yet.

He hesitated, then lay back down, pulling her down with him, close to his big, warm body, his arm around her.

It was another victory and Allie smiled, somehow refraining from kissing the skin covering his ribs, his chest, his neck. Love burst in her heart.

He reached past her and covered her with half of the plaid they lay on. “Is that better?”

“Yes, much.” She snuggled even more closely. “What happened, Royce? There was a union between us that was apart from that of our bodies.”

“La Puissance,” he said abruptly.

She had to peer to look up at him. He wasn’t smiling. She wanted him to be as happy as she was. “The Power?”

“Aye.” He gazed down at her. “I told ye, I can take power from anyone. I tasted yer power, Ailios. It was good.”

Shockingly she became entirely aroused again, never mind how weak she felt.

So did he.

His lids drifted down. “T’is forbidden, to take power fer pleasure.” Then he gave her a very male look. “But power makes the pleasure so much better.”

“It sure does. Who cares if it’s forbidden?” she cried. “It was the best.”

He suddenly sat up and looked away, appearing dark and unhappy. “The gods gave us the power to take life so we can defend ourselves from evil or heal ourselves if mortally wounded. They dinna give us such a power to use it for common bedsport.”

“What they don’t know…” Allie said, sitting up with an effort. Aware of the cold now, she tugged her half of the plaid over her shoulders.

He met her gaze. “A Master can lose his mind when the power floods his veins. He can easily take too much life—a maid can die if he does.”

“You didn’t take too much from me,” she said, stroking his chest. “I’m not dead, just beat.”

“I have control,” he said. “I’m nay young an’ hot.”

Allie laughed. She couldn’t imagine what he had been like when he had been “young and hot.”

He gave her a long, strange, intense look. He was serious when he spoke, his tone hushed. “Yer power is so pure. I dinna ken any power could be so good.”

Allie became as serious. She recalled the way his aura and his body soaked up her white light the few times she’d dared to try to heal him.

“Yer holy. Yer power is holy. I dinna think the Ancients will be pleased with me,” Royce said flatly.

She didn’t like the sound of that. “They won’t know.”

“They ken all. So does MacNeil,” he added darkly. He seemed very unhappy now.

She grew nervous. “Royce, what happens when a Master violates the Code? Does he go to jail?” she quipped. But she didn’t smile now.

“A fall, or worse.”

“A fall—like the way an angel falls?” She was incredulous—and then, finally, alarmed.

“I willna fall, but aye, Masters have been turned to the dark by tastin’ such power, by takin’ what doesna belong to them, by discovering La Puissance an’ needing it time an’ again.”