Warriors of Poseidon 05 - Atlantis Redeemed

his soul. Thousands of years of enforced solitude shattered around him, and his barren and desperate heart lurched like a hideous creature, squinting, into the light.
    “Mine,” he snarled. “You will never, ever leave me again.” Tearing at the cloth that dared block her from his touch. Burying his face in the warmth between her lovely round breasts, marveling at the contrast of his sun-darkened hand against her creamy skin.
    “Lonely,” he managed, wondering why the lace covering her from his sight was darkening with wetness, why his mind had gone hot and black. “Help me.”
    She made a sound, said more words, but though the meaning of the words was lost to him, the meaning of the sound was clear. Pain. Fear.
    He was scaring her. Maybe hurting her.
    The realization cut through the fog of madness as nothing else could have done. No. He would never hurt her. Oh, by all the gods, what had he done?
    What was he still doing?
    He threw himself back and away from her, forcing himself to find a semblance of calm. Forcing himself to hear and understand what she was saying.
    Atlantis Redeemed – Warriors of Poseidon 05
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    “Please don’t hurt me,” she said, her face so white he thought she would surely faint from shock or terror at any moment. “Brennan. Brennan, we’re supposed to be allies. What happened? Did the vamps get to you, too?”
    She thought he was enthralled? But . . . he needed to tell her. He needed to explain.
    “So long,” he began, the words nearly choking him. “So long, and the curse. So lonely.” A burst of wild laughter surged up from his chest, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. How to explain an ancient curse to a modern journalist? She’d think him a liar or, worse, insane. He probably was insane.
    But he had to try. He slowly stood and backed farther away until he was standing against the window of the small room. “Tiernan. I—Oh, gods, it hurts.” He doubled over for an instant, then forced himself upright again. “I cannot . . . cannot begin to apologize enough for my . . . my behavior. I can only beg your forgiveness and hope you will give me the chance to explain.”
    She jumped to her feet and ran to the door, never stopping until her hand was on the handle.
    “Are you nuts? After that? I’m going to call the police and . . .”
    As her words trailed off, he fought for some measure of rational thought and managed to realize what she must be thinking. “A few moments, please,” he whispered, but she seemed to hear him. An eternity passed as she considered his words, but finally she nodded, and he bent over and inhaled long, slow, deep breaths, practicing the calming exercises he had not used since he was a novice warrior. At first he thought it was in vain; that the simple act of drawing breath could not begin to conquer the madness of so many years of returning feelings.
    In. Out. In. Out. Finally, tens or hundreds of breaths later, he achieved what he hoped was at least a temporary leash on the raging emotions, and he was able to recall the reason behind their presence.
    “If you call the police, our mission here will be ruined,” he said quietly. “We cannot afford to draw that kind of attention to ourselves if we wish to discover the truth behind these scientific experiments on shifter and human brains. I can never apologize enough for what happened, but I can attempt to explain.”
    She hesitated, and then nodded.
    A bolt of hope shot through him, threatening to take him to his knees, but he ruthlessly stamped it down. “You are now afraid to remain anywhere near me, however, and with very good reason.”
    She nodded again, narrowing her beautiful dark eyes but still remaining silent.
    “Then perhaps you will do me the very undeserved honor of listening to me for a short time, while I tell you a tale from long ago. All I ask, though it will be almost impossible, is that you try to believe that I am telling you the absolute truth.”
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    She considered that for several long moments in silence, her hand still on the door handle and her body still poised for flight. Finally she apparently came to a decision, because she gave a brief nod. “All right. I’ll listen to you. For Susannah. But remember what you said about truth.
    Trust me, I will know the difference.”
    Darkness shuttered her expression, almost as if the burden of truth somehow pained her.
    Brennan shook off