Mated to the Moon (Portal City Protectors Book 6), Georgette Clair [best classic books to read .TXT] 📗

And through it all, Adonis remained at her side, attentive and appreciative of her beauty, but he also listened to her. He asked which shows she was interested in and fulfilled her requests. She watched Blaze and Starlett dance across the stage, and Blaze even broke into song while dancing en pointe and twirling fire.

It was magical.

A dream within a dream where she could laugh and cry. Play and be amazed.

Adonis gave her a night unlike anyone had before.

And it scared the absolute shit out of her.

Chapter Eight

Something had changed.

One minute, Fabiana was there with him, leaning against his side and resting her small hand over his chest. And the next, she was withdrawing into herself, the light no longer fascinating her but coloring her terrified expression in gauche effect.

She rode next to him silently on the way home, took off her heels, and stalked to their suite without a word. What had he done? No matter how many times he wracked his brain, Adonis couldn’t pinpoint a single moment where he had messed up.

He didn’t growl at the men looking at her.

Didn’t preen when women envied her on his arm.

His only focus had been on her and the multitude of ways he could bring another smile to her face.

He woke to an empty bed with a hard cock and no mate to warm it.

Adonis knew he sensed her desire, the almost natural way she’d molded herself to his side and couldn’t stop touching him through the night. But by the time they made it home, a full bucket of ice water had killed whatever ardor that kindled.

He refused to let her slip away.

Adonis got out of bed and rummaged through his dresser until he found a pair of pajama bottoms. He never wore the things, choosing instead to sleep in the buff, but since bringing Fabiana to his bed, he at least wore briefs to make her more comfortable. Almost a month beside her, and he hadn’t been able to mark her yet.

No one knew when Skuld would come, and he would much rather have his mate bound to him where she belonged before they plunged headlong into war. It might be selfish, but he also hoped the future of his line would be protected under her heart as well.

The house was silent, with no one moving around at this time except for the guards who quietly pointed in the direction his mate had gone. They all knew not to approach her, to let her move around her home as freely as she wanted, but to keep a watchful eye on where she was at all times.

Adonis didn’t want her to feel trapped, but he had to keep her protected.

Besides, whatever way she masked her scent proved to be uncanny, and he feared she’d be gone before he realized it. Though, lately, he’d been able to catch tendrils here and there if he tried hard enough.

Adonis did so now, pulling air into his lungs deeply as he closed his eyes. His men shouldn’t have to tell him where she was. Just a wisp of her remained on the air and he followed it down the stairs and through the maze of his dining hall, main living room, and into the foyer before he growled at the door.

She’d left, and he hoped to goddess he wouldn’t be short a few men if she was off the property and they hadn’t alerted him.

“The Temple.”

Raph.

Of course, he was watching as well and would know Adonis would lose his shit.

“Thank you.”

“She is … painting, if you can call it that. It doesn’t seem natural the way she’s moving.”

Adonis picked up speed. He knew she painted images of the future, and he wondered if she was trapped in one now. Maybe that’s why she closed down, the urge of these visions filtering in on their time and she couldn’t fight it off.

He now felt like an ass because he hadn’t thought to ask her how the prophetic paintings came to be. If she were in pain or uncomfortable, he should have known it. The cool, crisp air of the fall night didn’t bother him because the internal temperature of the wolf was too high.

Men pointed to the inside of the Temple but he ignored them; he already knew where she was. When he entered, Fabiana was there in the center, the pins holding her hair earlier in the night were all gone and ringlets pelted the small of her back as she worked.

Raph was right; it wasn’t natural.

Her body was at an awkward angle, her hand jerking her from side to side as it splashed bright red around the outside of the canvas. He couldn’t make out what she worked on.

“Please, no.”

Her pained plea broke the silence, and her hand moved faster. Fabiana cried out but couldn’t seem to stop, slamming from one side to the next. Adonis rushed to her side but froze.

She wasn’t human, but an ethereal being come to Earth.

A golden haze swirled around her ears in the shape of … horns? He wasn’t quite sure. “Fabiana.”

She didn’t answer, locked to the piece, her eyes wide and glowing red, so different than the indigo-blue gaze he’d become accustomed to. He didn’t even look at the painting.

“I can’t … I can’t stop. Oh goddess, Adonis. I can’t stop it.”

He tried his best to pull her into his arms, but she jerked away with a scream. He could only stand to the side, helpless, as she shouldered this alone. This pain, this trial.

“I’m here, pequeña.”

Other colors blended in—dark gold, pale peach—doctored and worked until he could see they were skin tones. Slowly, the picture emerged while Fabiana wept silently, unable to control her limbs. It