Damien remained quiet, observing the entire exchange. His gaze was clouded over and he cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Do you have a plan?”

Kellan glanced over his shoulder to me. I saw one lurking in him, but he said, “No, and we have three days, maybe four tops, to figure one out. I’m assuming you’ll bring something to the drawing board.”

Damien narrowed his eyes, but he said nothing more.

Aumae smiled. “Well, I think if we all put our heads together, we can all come up with something. Three half-messengers. Three half-demons and two captive humans in the shed. That’s a recipe for success, if I ever heard one.”

She clapped her hands together, amusement sparking from her. But from the rest of us—not so much.

“Everyone wants us to bond.”

I tensed, but turned around. I’d gone on a walk. It’d been two days of hiding. Everyone was tense inside the house. I knew Kellan didn’t want anyone to leave, but I was going nuts. For the last two nights, Kellan went with me to our room. It wasn’t my room. It wasn’t his room. It was ours, and every night, I lay in his arms. We kissed, but we never went further. The ache for him was taking over. Even the messenger in me was ready to combust.

I couldn’t see him now. The walking path I took in the woods shut out the moonlight, but I felt Kellan before I heard him. I knew he was going to follow and a part of me had been waiting for him.

“What took you so long?” I asked.

He drew closer, stepping further toward me so I could make out his silhouette. I saw the whites of his eyes. They were lidded. “Bonding?”

“No. You’ve been following me since I left.”

“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed, straightening out a bit. “I wanted to wait until we were farther from the house.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a traitor in the group.”

Alarm jolted me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “Who?”

“If you were to take a guess?”

I frowned. “Damien?”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t think it’s him?”

“I don’t know what I think yet.”

“Who else could it be? Vespar and Gus are a-holes, but you think they’d betray us and to whom?” I laughed. “And it can’t be Aumae. She’s…she’s like the only good one out of everyone. And it’s not Matt. He’s our captive. That doesn’t leave anyone else.”

“Damien knew where we were at the house when the demons came.”

I nodded. “So it has to be him then.” A knot formed in my stomach. “He wanted us to bond too, but he made it sound like we needed to do that to take on my dad. But, what if…?”

Kellan was watching me. He knew what I was thinking and when the words couldn’t form, he moved so he was right in front of me. I could feel his warmth and he pulled me into his body, folding me in his arms. He rested his chin on top of my head, murmuring, “Everything will be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

I heard the dark promise in his voice and closed my eyes. A sensual tingle wound through me, warming me all over and I rested my forehead against his chest, right where his heart was. I could feel and hear it working. My hand fell to his stomach, pressing there, and the longer I stayed in that position, the faster his heart sped up. He was reacting to me, too. I let out a sigh, thinking, “Everyone wants us to bond. Myself included.”

His arm tightened on my hip. “It’s what your father wants.”

“And that means we shouldn’t, right?” I licked my lips because that’s not what I wanted. Not at all.

“I can hear all your thoughts, Shay. The ones you don’t think I can hear, those too.”

“I know.” I didn’t care. I was starting to not care about a lot of things. And I moved, closing the distance between our bodies. It had been a small opening, but it was gone now. Our bodies were fused together with only our clothes as a barrier. I wanted his shirt gone. Reacting to my thought, my hand slid up under his shirt, lifting it as I explored his chest. I was becoming lost in the feel of him.

“Shay,” he murmured, his voice almost a groan next to my ear.

I didn’t answer. I pushed his shirt the rest of the way up, pressing my lips to his naked skin now. I was becoming intoxicated, just from this touch, from not caring, from not holding back. I wasn’t holding back anymore. I wanted him. I think I had always wanted him.

He caught the back of my neck. “Shay.”

“Shut up,” I growled, lifting my face. My lips were waiting for his, and I opened my eyes. He was staring down at me, torn. I saw the temptation there and feeling braver than I ever had before, my hand fell to his jeans. My fingers slid inside, touching his skin, and my thumb rested over the first button of his pants.

An animal-like growl came from him, and he snatched me up in his arms. I was shoved against a nearby tree, but I didn’t feel the bark. I didn’t feel how rough the tree was. All I was feeling was Kellan, his mouth on mine. His hands were on my hips, holding me up as my legs wound around his waist. I opened his pants and slid my hand inside. I was addicted to him. That was the only explanation for my behavior. I was past caring. I just needed him—then his hands were between my legs, and he slid a finger inside.

I stilled, savoring that sensation, and he began to move. In and out. He went deep, then pulled back out, only to go once more inside.