She wasn’t Liza Johnson. Liza Johnson had died that night and Honor Roberts had taken her place.
She didn’t have the memories, yet. She had no idea how to help Jonas Wyatt, but what she did have was Orrin Martinez’s promise.
“One day, named for that which few men know—Honor—One day, you will realize, child, you have lived up to all the dreams your father had when he gave you a name of such distinction. Know now, your heart and your soul resonate with it, and into this new life you will take with you the knowledge that will ease the burden of loss for the parents who had such hope, and one day, you will fill the heart and the soul of one who never truly believed he had such.”
Stygian.
She filled his heart and soul, just as he filled hers. But there were so many other dreams, and so many others who were a part of her. And admitting to who, to what she was—
What she was—
Oh God, oh God—
“Liza!” Stygian caught her before her knees could collapse, before the shock could steal not just her strength but also her control. “Liza, are you okay?”
“Get me out of here.” She was going to be sick. “Get me out of here, Stygian.”
And he did just that. No questions, no demands. Lifting her into his arms and carrying her from the remnants of the sweat lodge, he took her away from the past and back into the present.
Nothing could steal the memory of those dark, terrifying days just before the ritual that had taken from her and Fawn the nightmares of their lies and had instead given them the peace and sheltered existence that Liza Johnson and Claire Martinez had been so determined to forsake.
And now, nothing could steal from her the realization of why they had been forced to make such a horrifying decision.
She could never again hide from what she was.
CHAPTER 17
But, it wasn’t as easy as Stygian had hoped it would be, and Liza wasn’t cooperating when it came to explaining exactly what had happened in that damned desert.
She shut down on him.
It wasn’t the distance he had experienced from her before. That complete emotional and spiritual distance, which assured his animal instincts that she was nothing more than a perfect, breathing shell.
This was different, but no less disconcerting. It was as though a part of her was so focused on something else to the point that there was no room for anything or anyone else.
That focus had completely eradicated the mating heat, and it was infuriating him.
The animal that lived under his skin was enraged by it.
His c**k was just tortured. He was so damned hard, so f**king hungry for the taste of her, the touch of her, that it was about to drive him insane.
Two days later, Stygian could feel his frustration level moving into overload and threatening his control to the point that it was becoming dangerous.
Where was the mating heat and how had she managed to dampen it when no other mate had managed to do so?
Heat, like in sex on a near-constant level?
Heat, like his mate dying for his touch twenty-four-seven.
Heat in the fact that they were supposed to f**k like minks and be unable to stay the hell away from each other?
Fucking.
Fighting.
Talking.
Bonding.
That was mating heat.
Where the hell was the mating every other Breed experiencing it got to have, yet it seemed was being denied him?
It wasn’t that he wasn’t experiencing it, because God knew he was.
His tongue was so damned swollen it felt like a f**king golf ball was wedged beneath his tongue on each side. The heavy throb of the fluid contained within it was almost painful, and each small droplet of the moisture that pushed free of it to infuse his system was torturous in its effect on his body.
His c**k was so swollen and hard it was damned near unbearable. The heavy veins pulsed with blood and lust, tightening to the point that he knew there would be no ease without the touch of his mate. And that touch didn’t seem forthcoming. The lust that should have been burning to tortured hunger inside her wasn’t happening.
At least, it hadn’t been happening for the past two days or nights.
Confusion, fear and a latent pain filled his mate’s mind to the point that it seemed there was no room for lust. That inner focus, confusion and fear that swirled through her senses was so intense that he couldn’t break through it.
And she refused to discuss it.
She wouldn’t consider discussing her past, the doubts he had sensed inside her concerning who she was, or what she felt or remembered now.
And he blamed Jonas for that. Blamed him for it to the point that he could barely converse with the man civilly. If Jonas had kept his damned plan for betraying Liza to himself, then perhaps, Stygian thought, he would have had a chance to bind his mate to his heart and a chance to help her through the emotionally complex situation she was now facing.
Stygian wanted nothing more than to touch his mate, to kiss her. To love her.
To ease the fear and uncertainty tearing her apart, which was keeping her out of his arms.
The bonding that came with the mating heat was something he had looked forward to in the years since he’d learned of the phenomenon. That chance to so be a part of a woman; her heart, her soul, her life; that he knew he was no longer a singular person, but rather one part of a whole. Fused so tightly to his mate that their souls were one entity.
Yet, that wasn’t there with himself and Liza.
As though the mating heat itself had suddenly stalled halfway through the process.
He could smell her need; it was there, buried beneath her confusion. He could smell her arousal, and just a hint of the mating heat, but it was the same as it had been when he’d felt her retreat so far inside herself that he wasn’t certain how to find her.
The spiritual distance was no longer there, as it had been before. Instead, it seemed all the emotions, the fear, the pain and confusion that she had kept at bay over the years were tearing through her instead. And he had no idea how to help her. No idea how to bring her back to him.
Nothing he’d tried had worked in the past two days.
She didn’t rise to any verbal sparring he attempted.
She evaded his touch and asked for time with such deepening pain that pulling back to give her that time was killing him.
She was holding herself in such lockdown that he knew that finding the key to release whatever she was fighting to hide within herself might be impossible.
And he knew, the animal instincts that governed him knew, if he didn’t do something soon, he might well lose her forever.