A quick nod.

“Those stories were based on truth. Dragon shifters existed once, but they were hunted to near extinction.” His father had thought they were extinct after the unfortunate death of his test subject but . . . Richard’s gaze turned back to the screen. Back to Eve Bradley. “But it seems we may have one left, after all.”

Silence. Then . . . “Uh, Doctor Wyatt, that woman doesn’t look like a dragon to me.”

No, she didn’t. And she should have shifted when the fire hit her. She would have shifted, if she’d been a full-blooded shifter.

Are you like your mother, Eve?

“There weren’t any of her kind left,” Richard murmured, still staring at that screen. “So she had to find a human to take as her mate. ”

His father had said that his test subject found sanctuary with humans. That she’d been hiding, using them for cover. Of course, Jeremiah must not have realized the truth. The test subject mated with a human.

If he had realized that important fact, then Richard figured that his father wouldn’t have told the soldiers to kill them all.

His father’s order. He’d wanted to cover his tracks. The test subject couldn’t be controlled, so she’d had to be eliminated. Jeremiah had wanted to make sure no witnesses were left behind.

The humans had needed to die.

Pity.

But . . . his father had kept meticulous research. Blood samples, hair, tissue—all of those still remained from the dragon shifter. It would be easy enough to discover if his own suspicions were true.

And if Eve did turn out to be the child of a dragon shifter . . .

Then he would be able to take his father’s research to the next level. He smiled. He’d finish what the old man started. Prove I’m better, stronger. He would be the one with the perfect killing machine. And his father could f**king choke on his success.

The water poured over her, ice cold because she needed the chill. Every time that Eve closed her eyes, she saw the fire.

But . . . it wasn’t just the flames that Wyatt had sent out at her.

It was another time. Another place.

Memories that haunted her.

Mommy! Mommy! The fire had been everywhere. Fire and blood and the flash of vampire fangs.

Bet you taste good. Kids always f**kin’ do.

Her eyes squeezed closed tighter as she pushed her head under the water. It should have cooled her down. It didn’t. It just made her feel hotter.

Her mother had died in that long-ago fire. Her father . . . he’d been dead before the flames hit him. The vampires had ripped out his throat.

Eve shuddered. I hate vampires.

Every time she turned around, a vampire was attacking—or selling her out. Thanks, Ryder. She’d be sure to pay him back.

If it hadn’t been for me, you would have burned at Genesis.

He’d returned her solid favor by tossing her right at Wyatt. What a prince.

She turned off the water with a yank of her hand. Stood in the shower, with her forehead pressed against the tiled wall.

“Eve.”

She’d known that Cain was there, so she didn’t jump or rush to cover herself. What would be the point? He had already seen all of her.

She turned. The glass door hadn’t steamed beside her and she could see right through to him. He watched her with eyes that were so hungry. Full of need.

Right then, she could only see the lust in his stare.

What happened when she saw more?

He walked toward her slowly, never taking his eyes from her. Drops of water were sliding down her body. Her ni**les were tight from the cold water.

He opened the shower door and stared down at her. “I’d . . . never hurt you.”

He hadn’t. “But what if I hurt you?” Her fear. She knew Wyatt must have a plan. He’d tested her because he wanted to use her.

To hurt Cain? To kill him?

His hand lifted. Traced the curve of one breast. “You won’t.”

She couldn’t be so sure of that, but right then, she just wanted to stop thinking. To stop remembering fire and death. “Make it stop,” she whispered to him.

Frowning, he glanced back up at her.

“The fire,” Eve told him, her voice a bare breath. “The blood. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

She didn’t want to see death.

Her eyes closed once more.

His lips feathered over hers. Soft. Gentle.

“No.” She turned her head away from him. Gentleness wasn’t what she needed at that moment. She was tearing apart from the inside out. She wanted to scream. To fight. To rage.