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king.’’
    Almost as if an observer, she heard herself saying, ‘‘Yes, Scott. I’ll go with you,’’ and wondered why she felt a sudden shiver of precognition, as if her entire destiny would hinge on this momentary decision.
     
Jared Bennett stared at the ceiling over his bed, marveling that his new wife lay sleeping in his arms. Not just any wife, either: Kelsey was his soulmate, the one he’d first met as a young man on the verge of his awakening, and then lost for more years than he cared to count. How long had it been since that time of their initial meeting? Fourteen years? Fourteen years of aching separation—all without even realizing it. The elders had stolen their memories of one another in an effort to protect their king, and only by a miracle had they ever come together again.
    Kelsey stirred beside him, the thick tumble of auburn hair winding about her bare shoulders. Jared’s breath literally hitched in his throat, and his entire body tightened in awareness of his mate.
    ‘‘Hello, your sleepiness,’’ he purred in her ear.
    She blinked back sleep, rolling onto her side toward him. ‘‘What time is it?’’ she asked with a yawn.
    ‘‘Not quite midnight.’’
    ‘‘You’re not getting up are you?’’ One auburn eyebrow shot upward in a question. The incompatibility of their sleep cycles had already proved annoying, especially for Jared, who wished to be bedding his new mate as many hours a day as humanly— and Refarianly—possible.
    ‘‘I’m expected down at Base Ten,’’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘‘I’ve been occupied with’’—he buried his head against her chest, nuzzling her—‘‘better things the past few days. And perhaps I may stay occupied a bit longer.’’ He laughed, drawing her right nipple within his mouth, suckling and nibbling it until she groaned in delight.
    ‘‘Ah, yes, I believe I may indeed stay occupied for quite a bit longer. At least until two A.M.,’’ he teased, then closed his lips around her nipple again.
    She groaned, tugging his head upward. ‘‘Jared, I just gotta have more than four hours of sleep a night.’’
    ‘‘You may nap later,’’ he suggested, cupping her other generous breast within his palm. Immediately both nipples grew puckered and alert; perhaps that meant he could rouse her as well. His groin tightened in sharp pleasure and his breathing grew much more rapid. Aching to see her better in the darkness, he allowed his vision to heighten, taking in every dip and curve of her very feminine body. He growled his pleasure at the sight of her again, and this, well, his wife seemed to like it a great deal, just as she always did.
    Almost as if reading his thoughts, she whispered, ‘‘I love your noises.’’
    His face instantly burned. ‘‘It . . . is not human, though, is it?’’ he asked uncertainly. ‘‘Human men do not make such sounds during mating?’’
    ‘‘Well’’—she leaned on one elbow, assessing him in the darkness—‘‘not exactly. But that’s part of what turns me on about it.’’ She brushed her fingertips through his short hair, regarding him.
    Inside, he felt a yelping cry of hunger, but wrestled to suppress it—this time. He swallowed hard. ‘‘My alienness arouses you?’’
    ‘‘Duh, Jared!’’ She laughed, cupping his face within the palm of her hand, feeling the prickling hairs of his new beard growth. ‘‘Don’t you think that’s obvious by now?’’
    ‘‘Yes, obvious. Perhaps.’’
    They had discussed the most intimate aspects of his biological nature: His mating cycles, his impending infertility, and although the conversations had caused him a great deal of shame and discomfort, she did seem at ease with their natural differences.
    ‘‘I love you, Jared,’’ she assured him. ‘‘I think I loved you from the first, all those years ago. And, frankly, your mating cycles . . . the idea of them, well, it really turns me on.’’
    ‘‘It does?’’ he