The green eyes studied him with an unwavering interest. “You’re upset.”

“Dying tends to sour my mood.”

“You were only dead a few minutes and now you have what you’ve always desired,” she pointed out with perfect logic. “You’re a full-blooded Were.”

“Yeah, I got the memo.”

He shuddered, still adjusting to the sensations that crashed through him. It was like the floodgates had been jerked open to release a torrent of raw power. It would be days, if not weeks before he could become accustomed to his newly heightened senses and the strange cravings that gripped him.

“Then why aren’t you pleased?” she softly demanded.

He grimaced at her puzzlement. It was true he had never made a secret of his lust to gain the gifts of a Were. What creature wouldn’t want to be stronger and faster and downright superior?

And, of course, there was always the whole immortality thing.

But when he’d received the visions that had promised he was destined to become a pureblood, he hadn’t counted on the sacrifice.

“Because it …”

“What?”

He squeezed his hands into tight balls of frustration. “I thought my destiny was to unlock the secret of transforming cur blood into pure Were,” he bit out. “Not being genetically altered because a whacked-out demon lord rammed through me in an attempt to escape into another dimension.”

She tilted her head to the side, somberly considering his words.

“You regret that you won’t be able to share your wondrous transformation with others?”

He snorted at the naïve question. Obviously Cassandra hadn’t figured out yet that he was a selfish bastard who’d never done a thing in his life that didn’t benefit him in one way or another.

“I’m not Gandhi.”

“Who?”

He heaved a pained sigh. “Never mind.” “I still don’t understand why you’re upset. “I wanted to fulfill my visions with science, not magic.”

“Why?”

“A gift given by magic is never without cost. The universe always manages to extract a payment. Christ.” He shuddered. “I can’t even imagine what the cosmic debt for immortality will be.”

“It’s too late for regrets.” She frowned at his sharp laugh. “Did I say something funny? I’m never sure.”

“I’ve been saying that it’s too late for regrets for the past decade,” he muttered.

“Ah.” She turned to wander toward the nearby window, studying the untamed nature that surrounded them. “And yet you still have them.”

“I …” His mouth dropped in shock as Cassandra absently pulled the sweatshirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. The jeans swiftly followed, leaving her standing in nothing more than a plain white bra and matching panties. “Holy shit, what are you doing?”

She turned to meet his eyes that glowed with the fire of his wolf, seemingly surprised by his strangled question.

“My clothes smell bad.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I need a bath.”

Hot, savage lust slammed into Caine, nearly sending him to his knees.

The kind of lust that could drive a man to madness.

Which was the only reason he was spinning away from the slender elegance of her near naked form and was gripping the counter with enough force to crack the marble top.

He’d made one bad decision after another over the past few decades.

It was time he started thinking with his actual brain.

“Yeah, well, as much as I appreciate an impromptu strip-tease by a gorgeous female, my self-control is nonexistent, so I suggest you head upstairs,” he growled.

He heard her sniff the air, easily scenting his arousal. “You want me?”

Want?

His cock was pressing against his jeans with enough force to cut off his blood supply.

With one fluid motion he was whirling, crossing the floor to press the provoking woman against the wall. He distantly remembered to temper his newfound strength, rubbing his face along the curve of her neck as he absorbed her unique scent.

“Correction, I fucking ache for you,” he rasped, his body on fire with need. “But right now we’re both in a crazy place. When I take you as my lover it will be when I have nothing on my mind but how much I want to please you.”

Caine wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t to discover himself lying flat on his back, with Cassandra bending over him with a smug smile.

“You’ll become my lover when I say and not a minute sooner,” she assured him.

Caine rolled over just in time to watch her sashay from the room, the sway of her tight little ass sending his blood pressure through the roof.

Shit.

Who the hell was Cassandra?

An isolated, cave-dwelling prophet who’d been irrevocably damaged by a demented demon lord?

Or a ruthlessly seductive female who’d just given him a smack down with frightening ease?

Rolling to his feet, Caine rubbed the lump on the back of his throbbing skull. Karma was definitely a bitch, he decided, heading toward the guest bedroom upstairs.

Entering the room decorated in shades of yellow, Caine opened the walnut armoire and pulled out a pair of jeans and plain T-shirt.

Like every other cur, Caine always kept a surplus of clothing available in his various lairs.

Who knew when he might feel the urge to shift?

Of course now, all that was in the past.

As a Were he would have the ability to control his shifts.

Shaking his head at the disturbing thought, Caine entered the attached bathroom and stripped off his grubby jeans before stepping into the shower.

After hours spent digging out of the tunnels that had collapsed on top of him and Cassandra, he was in dire need of hot water and soap that was made to scrub off the filth, not make him smell like flowers.

He’d just dried off and was in the process of pulling on a pair of jeans when the door to the bedroom was thrown open and his houseguest entered with a scowl.

“Dammit, Cassie.” He jerked up his jeans, his body hardening at the sight of the tight jeans that clung lovingly to her slender curves and the casual tank top that hinted at the soft swell of her breasts. Her damp silver hair tumbled freely down her back, making his fingers curl with the need to stroke through the silken length. “If we’re going to be sharing a house we obviously need to establish a few ground rules.”

She ignored his chiding, her expression distracted. “We need to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

Her hand lifted in a vague wave. “East.”

A chill inched down his spine. He hadn’t saved this female’s life only to have her toss it aside on a whim.

“No way. Until I figure out how to keep hidden the fact you’re a prophet, you’re staying here.”

She shook her head, her hand unconsciously pressing against her stomach.

Caine’s heart twisted at the memory of the small mark of the demon lord that marred the satin skin just below her belly button. The shimmering tattoo made him long to howl in fury.

Cassandra belonged to him.

No one else could have her.

“I have to …”

Crossing the carpet, he took her shoulders in a gentle grasp. “To what?”

Without warning she headed toward the door. “Come with me.”

Caine paused long enough to pull on his T-shirt. Usually he made it a rule never to keep a woman waiting, but he already knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming.

Stepping into the hall he padded down the hardwood floor and entered the master bedroom, not at all surprised his guest had taken command of the finest room in the house. She might have been a prisoner for the past several years, but she was all woman.

She skirted past the heavy, walnut bed that had been carved by wood sprites and pointed at the wall painted a soft shade of ivory.

“Look,” she commanded.

Caine swore at the sight of the shimmering hieroglyphic that swirled just above the surface of the wall.

He didn’t know a damned thing about prophecies, but he had seen the peculiar symbols lining the walls of Cassandra’s cave. They were visions of the future.

Visions that powerful demons would commit wholesale slaughter to get their greedy hands on.

“Already? You couldn’t take a few days off?”

Her lips tightened at his impulsive words. “It’s not a faucet. I can’t turn it on and off.”

He bit back a sigh. Of course she couldn’t.

No more than he could head for the front door and run as far as possible from this woman who was destined to lead him straight to disaster.

Hell, he’d already died.

What could be worse?

Shutting his mind to the numerous, unpleasant answers to his question, Caine reached out to touch the swirling symbol.

“What is it?”

Cassie shifted closer, as if unconsciously seeking his comfort. Without hesitation he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tucked her against him.

“Gemini,” she whispered.

“The zodiac sign?”

“The alpha and the omega.”

“Still too vague.”

She shivered. “A child.”

“Yeah, that would’ve been my next guess.” He brushed a reassuring kiss over the top of her head, the tender gesture disturbingly natural. “What does it mean?”

“A warning.” The stunning green eyes held a fear that twisted Caine’s gut. “The child must be protected.”

“Protected from what?”

“The darkness.” She shuddered. “Evil.”