ETAN
He sat in the chair in the corner of his bedroom, no lights on, his breath heaving. He'd taken off his jacket, and then later his shirt as well. He felt on the edge of violence, and his body shook with it. Yet there was no reason for it. Unless the pressure was getting to him and he was losing his mind.
Then another wave of warmth and love came at him through the bond with Ayleth and almost stole his breath—how had she learned to do that? But as quickly as it touched him, it was gone. He wanted to send it back, but the moment he thought of trying, the flames inside him surged and wanted to travel the bond. He yanked all feeling back and raked both hands through his hair. He began a groan that turned into a growl. Then he was on his feet and pacing, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Something was wrong with him. What was wrong? Why was he feeling this way?
