Pursued by Presley Hall
Nadia
My eyessomehow go even wider, my heart lurching in my chest.
Zatir’s words seem to ricochet through me as I look up at the devastatingly handsome warrior standing before me, his fingers grazing my skin as if he’s touching delicate porcelain, something precious and fragile. His eyes were nearly black in the hall when I first caught sight of him, but now they’re glowing amber as if lit from within, fixed on mine with an expression of awe, as if he’s gazing at the most beautiful thing he’s ever witnessed.
Me.
No one has ever looked at me like this. I’ve been told plenty of times that I’m striking or that I have a unique appearance. But I’m not the kind of conventionally gorgeous woman who would draw the interest of a man like this. I’m too thin and flat-chested, excruciatingly pale, with hair so dark it just makes my pallor more obvious, and a delicate face with eyes far too big for my features. I make an interesting photo subject, but for a man like this—one who practically looks like a god—to want me? It makes no sense.
He doesn’t even know my name.
I only know his because it’s been on the lips of every single Kalixian in the city since yesterday. He hasn’t told me his name. And he doesn’t know mine. So how can we be mates?
My soul has recognized yours.
I never truly thought I’d hear those words, not really. But now that I have, out loud and unmistakable, I’m not sure how to feel. It seemed so far-fetched that I never stopped to think what I would say if the opportunity arose, what I would do.
Do I want this? Do I want a mate, and the commitment that comes with it, the children that inevitably follow in almost all cases?
The mate bond is the Kalixian form of marriage, and I’m twenty. On Earth, this would be ridiculous. I don’t even know how old Zatir is, but he’s definitely a good bit older than twenty. He might even be older than Brielle.
What if I don’t want this?
The thoughts tumble through my head so rapidly that I can’t seem to grasp on to any one of them. Zatir is just standing there now, his proclamation hanging in the air between us, his amber gaze fixed on mine as if he’s patiently waiting for me to respond.
Except there’s nothing patient about what I feel shimmering in the air between us.
I can feel it as surely as he can, something urgent and hungry, something that makes my skin heat and my body pulse with a sensation I don’t fully recognize. I’m aroused, my thighs damp with it, and the realization makes me flush.
The color must be obvious on my pale skin, and I’m sure Zatir notices. But he seems to like it.
He gazes down at me, smiling, heat filling his eyes, and my body throbs in response. I want to kiss him. I want him to kiss me.
There’s something wildly romantic about this—about the balcony and the garden below, the moonlight, and the returning hero come back to claim his honors. I joked about “going to the ball” with Brielle, but now I really feel like I’ve fallen into some kind of mad fairytale. Just like Emma—except this time, it’s not the prince. It’s the rogue.
And if I’m being honest? That’s a million times hotter.
Zatir’s fingers move over my cheek again, and I shudder with pleasure. There’s something so commanding and forceful about him, something about his easy confidence and worldly demeanor that makes me want to let him draw me into his arms, kiss me and teach me everything about pleasure that I’ve ever wondered about. Something tells me that a night with this man would be like nothing I’ve ever imagined. He’s seen more of the universe than I could ever dream of, and he’s probably done more things than he could tell me in a lifetime. My pulse speeds up at the thought, pounding in my throat.
This man is the embodiment of every bit of excitement and adventure and danger I’ve ever craved. And inexplicably, somehow, he wants me.
He’s saying he’s mated to me.
I stare up at him, my eyes tracing the details of his face. He’s rugged and handsome, and his age only deepens that. I’ve always known the Kalixians were handsome—I’ve never seen an unattractive one—but this is different. Now I can feel the attraction all the way down to my very bones. I feel as if everything inside me is liquified, hot and wanting. It’s all I can do not to throw caution to the wind.
“You’re very quiet.” He trails his fingers down to my jaw and then up again, pushing a fallen piece of hair out of my face. “You know, I’ve traveled all over the universe. I think by now, I must have seen almost everything there is to see. But in all the universe, I’ve never seen anything as lovely as you.”
A thrill runs through me, flaring out from my core to the very tips of my fingers and toes.
“What’s your name?” he asks. “Mine is Zatir.” He grins. “But I think you probably know that already.”
“Nadia,” I whisper.
A slow smile spreads over his face.
“Nadia,” he repeats, and my heart beats even harder. The way he says it makes heat flare inside of me, my entire body feeling as if I could levitate and float away. He makes my name sound so beautiful, like music.
Zatir leans closer, his fingers on my cheekbone sliding upward as he cups my face in the palm of his hand. I’ve always felt unusually tall, willowy, long-legged and gawky, but with this warrior leaning over me, I feel small and delicate, my face cradled in his hand like fine china. His lips are so close to mine, and as I gaze up into his amber eyes, I know he’s going to kiss me.
And I’m going to let him. There’s no question about that.
It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed, and I know this will be different than any kiss I’ve ever received.
I tilt my chin up, my eyelids fluttering closed. In another second, his lips will be on mine, warm and full and soft—
“Nadia!”
My sister’s voice hits me like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head. Zatir pulls back, straightening, and my cheeks heat as I look past him to see Brielle standing there. Her face is tight with a mixture of worry and anger, her hands on her hips.
Zatir turns toward her, and I grip the railing, feeling as if I’m burning up for another reason entirely now. Instead of desire, now it’s just embarrassment. Because I know exactly what my sister is going to have to say about this.
“What’s going on?” Brielle demands.
Behind her, I can see a few other Kalixians filtering out onto the balcony, others who either followed her up or were drawn by the noise.
“Nadia is my Irisa,” Zatir says calmly. He angles his body almost protectively in front of mine, nearly shielding me from Brielle’s view, and I remember that of course he doesn’t know who she is. To him, she’s just someone who’s come out here and interrupted the two of us. It’s a sobering reminder of just how little we actually know each other.
Brielle’s eyes go wide in her pale face, but when she speaks, her voice is tight and calm, as if she’s biting back what she really wants to say. She looks directly at me. “Nadia, is that true?”
“Um, I… We were just talking, and—”
I don’t say yes, but I also can’t say no. I don’t know what to say. I haven’t completely come to terms with it myself, with the real weight of what accepting the bond means. I haven’t made up my mind about anything.
I just want to be kissed by a handsome stranger in the moonlight, dammit! Is that really so much to ask, after everything?
Brielle purses her lips, nodding as if my non-answer has told her everything she needs to know.
“Well,” she says coolly, her full attention on Zatir now. “Unless my sister is very, very sure, then you need to back off.”
Her shoulders square, her posture tense as if she’s ready to go to blows with this warrior who is easily twice her size. It would be sweet if it weren’t so awfully embarrassing. I can see that more Kalixians have noticed what’s going on and come out to see, including Tordax, of all people.
“Your sister?” Zatir looks from me to her, sudden understanding washing over his face. But Brielle is in no mood to hear anything he has to say.
“Until Nadia accepts the bond,” she says fiercely, her voice rising, “then it’s not a foregone conclusion! And you need to just—just remember that!”
I want to sink into the ground and disappear. My cheeks are so hot they must be bright red by now. I hate being the center of attention. Everyone’s eyes are flicking between Brielle and Zatir facing off, and I shrink against the balcony, wishing I could be anywhere else. I hate that my sister is making a scene. I hate that we were discovered before I could find out what it would be like for him to kiss me. I hate that the moment is ruined now.
I want to speak up—to say something for myself. For a second, Brielle looks at me expectantly, as if she wants me to. But I still don’t know what to say, or how I feel about the bond myself. I haven’t had a chance to really process any of this.
Zatir smiles at Brielle, that same easy, roguish grin that won me over. And probably plenty of other women throughout the universe, I think dispiritedly. But it’s not going to work so easily on Brielle.
“I would never force Nadia,” he says, his voice smooth and charming, as if they’re having a perfectly ordinary conversation. “It’s not the Kalixian way, and it’s not my way. Believe me.” His lips curve up a little more. “I’ve never needed to force a woman.”
Brielle grimaces, Zatir’s charm clearly not having an effect on her. But he’s not finished. He glances back at me, and the intensity in his gaze makes me shiver. For a second, his burning amber eyes are enough to make me forget about the gathering crowd, my embarrassment, and even my ferocious sister. But it only lasts a second.
“The bond between a Kalixian and his mate is strong,” Zatir says. “And Nadia is my Irisa. Her choice will always be her own. But that doesn’t mean I can’t use every means at my disposal to show her exactly how much I desire her.”
Something about the way he says those words makes warmth sweep through me from my head to my toes, and my knees wobble. I grip the railing so tightly that my knuckles go white, but Brielle has had enough of all of this. She shakes her head and presses her lips together, stalking past Zatir as if he isn’t even there before grasping my elbow.
“Come on, Nadia. We’re leaving. I’ve heard enough of this.”
I don’t argue as she tugs me toward the balcony door. After all, I did promise her that if we came to the party and she said it was time to go, we’d go. I’d be too embarrassed to face the other guests after the scene we’ve caused anyway, and I don’t think for a second that Brielle will allow me to be anywhere near Zatir for the rest of the night.
Still, I can’t help looking back at him once more, right before my sister firmly shuts the double doors behind us.
Even if I shouldn’t be, I’m irresistibly drawn to him.
And I don’t know what that means for me.
