That had earned her a kiss on the back of her neck, his fingers curving down to flick the tight bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. “You have no idea.” A knowing touch circled her clit as she quivered from the shock of his first caress. “See that chair? Having you astride me is next on my list.”
The rough greed in his voice had sent heat rocking over her body, a darkly pleasurable sensation. However, this, what she felt now, was uncomfortable, as if her body was boiling from the inside out. Wiggling out from under Hawke’s arm, she muttered, “Bathroom,” when he would’ve stopped her, and made her way to the private alcove at the back of the cabin. Throwing water onto her face, she wiped it with a towel, but her skin continued to burn.
That was when she looked in the mirror.
And stopped breathing.
Her eyes were gold—blazing, flickering gold. Swallowing, she tried to quiet the panic that had her pulse in her mouth. The second level of dissonance hadn’t kicked in, so whatever had caused this, it didn’t indicate a dangerous loss of control. With that reassuring thought, she went within her mind, ready to reinforce the shields that contained the buildup of X-fire. To find them burned out. Oh, God.
The lines of dissonance programming had literally been buried under an avalanche of power. That should’ve been impossible—the pain should’ve blanked her into unconsciousness long before it got to that stage . . . except she was an X. A cardinal. No one knew how her power functioned, not in truth.
Connected as the events seemed, she knew the collapse wasn’t as a result of the emotional impact of the previous two nights—her response to Hawke had been wild and dark and passionate long before they’d shared intimate skin privileges. “Calm,” she said out loud. “Calm.” When she had some kind of a handle on herself, she began to rebuild that which had been burned away . . . only to watch as the cold fire began to devour it at almost the same instant.
Horror filled her veins, speared through her mind.
But at the center of it was a cold, clear understanding.
She’d thought she’d beaten the X-marker, but all she’d done was corral it—there was no way to stop its progression. Her periodic purges had acted as a pressure regulator, but that regulator was no longer big enough. The power had grown in an exponential cascade over the hours she’d slept, until it was a massive beast shoving at her shields, wanting out.
All indications are that your power develops in erratic and unpredictable surges. At some stage, the surge will overwhelm.
She’d forgotten Ming’s prediction, or perhaps she hadn’t wanted to remember it. In this, the bastard had proven right. “No panic, Sienna. Think.” Pacing in the confines of the bathroom, she realized the first thing she needed to do was earth the cold fire, buy some time.
It took her five minutes to sneak outside without waking Hawke, and she was convinced he didn’t rise only because he could scent her and knew she was safe. The instant her bare feet hit the forest floor, she punched her power into it, the ground burning with phantom flames for almost a minute before the X-fire soaked into the earth.
Yet when she looked into her mind, she saw that by morning, the buildup would be close to critical once more. The cold fire was voracious, and it wanted to consume everything in its path, but that wasn’t the most terrifying truth she saw inside the conflagration of her mind. Synergy, the catastrophic crest of an X’s power, wasn’t just possible, it was highly probable.
There was no going back once an X hit synergy.
Glancing behind her at the cabin, she rebuilt a second layer of shields before walking back inside. Her eyes had returned to normal, and so she allowed herself to stay with Hawke, to sleep in his arms this night.
One last night.
Chapter 48
MORNING CAME TOO soon, and along with it, the harsh reality of the inevitable consequences of the amplification in her power levels. She was grateful for Riley’s early morning call seeking to talk over a security issue with Hawke. It gave her an excuse to keep the discussion on martial matters on the drive back, a topic she could handle even with her concentration fractured.
Her luck ran out when they reached the den.
“You okay?” Fingers gripping her chin, wolf-blue eyes piercing her through and through. “Did something I do last night—”
“No,” she interrupted, wanting nothing to tarnish the memory of that wonderful, impossible, beautiful night. “I guess I’m just . . . processing.” Not a lie.
A slow smile. “Here’s something else for you to process.” His kiss burned her with a far more welcome fire than the cold that licked through the psychic pathways of her mind. But she couldn’t remain in his arms forever.