Thorn Queen Page 0,3

later, nothing had changed. He curled up in a corner, wrapping his body in a tight ball. His eyes continued to watch me. Exhausted, I gave up on him and put on a red nightgown. Turning off the lights, I finally slipped into my bed, falling asleep instantly for a change.

As I slept, I dreamed about the Otherworld, particularly a piece of it that bore a striking resemblance to Tucson and the Sonora Desert surrounding us. Only, the Otherworldly version was better. An almost heavenly Tucson, warmed by bright sunshine and ablaze with flowering cacti. This was a common dream for me, one that often left me yearning for that land in the morning. I always tried my best to ignore the impulse.

A couple hours later, I woke up. A warm, muscled body had slid into bed with me, pressing against my back. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, and Kiyo's scent, dark and musky, washed over me. A liquid feeling burned inside of me at his touch. Roughly, he turned me toward him. His lips consumed me in a crushing kiss, blazing with intensity and need.

"Eugenie," he growled, once he'd paused long enough to remove his lips - just barely - from mine. "I've missed you. Oh God, I've missed you. I've needed you."

He kissed me again, conveying that need as his hands moved over me. My own fingers slid along the smooth perfection of his bare skin, reveling in its feel. There was no gentleness between us tonight, only a feral passion fueled as much by animal instinct as love. He had not, I realized, completely regained his human senses, no matter his shape.

When I woke up in the morning, my bed was empty. Across the room, Kiyo pulled on jeans, meeting my eyes as though he had some sixth sense that I was awake. I rolled over on my side, the sheets gliding against my naked skin. Watching him with a lazy, satisfied languor, I admired his body and the sexy features gifted to him by Japanese and Hispanic heritage. His tanned body and black hair stood in stark contrast to the light skin and reddish hair my European ancestors had given me.

"Are you leaving?" I asked. My heart, having leapt at his presence last night, suddenly sank.

"I have to go back," he said, straightening out a dark green tee shirt. He ran an absentminded hand through his chin-length hair. "You know I do."

"Yeah," I said, my voice sharper than I'd intended. "Of course you do."

His eyes narrowed. "Please don't start that," he said quietly. "I have to do this."

"Sorry. Somehow I just can't get all that excited about another woman having your baby."

There it was. The issue that always hung over us.

He sat down beside me on the bed, dark eyes serious and level. "Well, I'm excited. I'd like to think you could support me in that and be happy for me."

Troubled, I looked away. "I am happy for you. I want you to be happy...it's just, you know, it's hard."

"I know." He leaned over me, sliding his hand up the back of my neck, twining his fingers in my hair.

"You've spent more time with her in the last week than with me."

"It's a necessity. It's almost time."

"I know," I repeated. I knew my jealousy was unwarranted. Petty, even. I wanted to share his happiness at having a child, but something in me prevented it.

"Eugenie, I love you. It's that simple. That's all there is to it."

"You love her too."

"Yes, but not in the way I love you."

He kissed me with a gentleness very different from the roughness of last night. I melted against him. The kiss grew stronger, filling with ardor. With great reluctance, he finally pulled away. I could see the longing in his eyes. He wanted to have sex again. That said something for my charms, I guessed.

His responsible inclinations winning out, he straightened and stood up. I stayed where I was.

"Will I see you there?" he asked, voice even and neutral.

I sighed. "Yeah. I'll be there."

He smiled. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

I nodded.

He went to the door and looked back at me. "I love you."