Free Savage Need (Temple of Luna, #2) by Moira Rogers

Chapter One
    Â 
    He doesn't remember his name.
    He remembers blood, and the men who spilled it. Dozens, hundreds, a river of life flowing into death. He remembers the screams, hardened men with mangled limbs and the sure knowledge of their own mortality in their voices. He remembers guns and bombs and the ways men kill, cold metal tearing through flesh and machines crushing their bones.
    He remembers pain. He remembers death. But he doesn't remember his name.
    He doesn't remember her name, either. Words are jumbles of sounds that hurt his throat anyway, but her name... Her name would taste like peace. Would feel as good on his tongue as the pleasure that heats his body every time he catches her scent. Soft. Female. Familiar.
    Mine.

    Even if Balthasar hadn't been standing guard by the wall, Zahra would have known better than to go near the man in the corner. His eyes were more animal than anything else, and she shivered, remembering the intelligence that had once shone from their ice-blue depths. "Hello, Jarek."
    He didn't speak, but his gaze stayed fixed on her face as a flash of something flickered across his features.
    "It's been a long time." She moved slowly to sit in the chair in the center of the room. "That research elective, yes? With Dr. Bautista?"
    His lips parted. When he spoke, the words were hoarse. Gravelly. "I'm a medic."
    "Yes, Jarek." She leaned forward a little. "We went to school together. Do you remember me? My name is Zahra."
    He lunged so fast the stool he'd been seated on crashed against the far wall at the same time his hands curled around the back of her chair. Strong arms formed a cage, trapping her within a circle of masculine power and heat. She choked back the shriek that welled in her throat and steeled herself for an attack.
    But none came. He inhaled deeply, drawing in her scent. In a mere moment, Balthasar dragged him away. Then Jarek grew violent, twisting to attack with an angry snarl and a blow strong enough to send the guard reeling. He turned and backed toward her, putting his body squarely between her and the guard. " Mine. "
    Hot, possessive magic filled the space between them. He may not have remembered her, but something about her was familiar enough to draw him close, and she could use that to reach him.
    Zahra signaled to Balthasar to stand down, and eased up beside Jarek. Magic flared again, chafing her nerve endings and heating her skin. "Do you need me?" she asked quietly.
    She was the King's niece. It was the guard's duty to keep her safe, and he knew it. "Out of the question. He's feral, Zahra. If he needs relief, he needs a senior priestess."
    Jarek growled and edged to the side, placing his body in front of hers again. "Stay away."
    "He doesn't need a senior priestess." She raised one hand to his face. "You need a healer, don't you, Jarek?"
    He turned his head and caught the tip of one finger between his teeth, a gesture of dominance and claiming. On the other side of the room, Balthasar hissed out a curse and reached for the com unit clipped to his belt. "I'm calling the high priestess. Your uncle will snap my neck if I let you do this."
    "Call her," Zahra urged. "Will you wait, Jarek, if I promise to return soon?"
    "I don't want another woman." Jarek turned to face her, one hand coming up to trap her fingers against his cheek. There was no hint of recognition in those frozen eyes, nothing of the brilliant, civilized healer she'd known. He was as wild as any warrior and twice as hungry.
    And all his attention, all his magic , was focused on her. He'd take her, sate that wild hunger in the depths of her body. Zahra could barely breathe, and her cunt tingled in reaction. "No other woman," she swore, ignoring the guard's incoherent protest. "You have my vow as a priestess of Luna."
    "Priestess." He seemed to be testing the word. He shook his head. "What's your name?"
    "Zahra." Doubt almost made her falter. She couldn't lie to herself and think that he knew her deep down,