Fair warning here - this chapter and the next, in particular, are VERY graphic (but tastefully done, I hope). So, if that type of thing bothers you, please do not read, as I would never want to unintentionally offend anyone.

Chapter 17 – Clāmāre

The impenetrable metal door of what Gwion referred to as the 'holding area', gave way for me to exit and then closed behind me. The sound of the lock, snapping into place, reverberated ominously, sending a chill down my spine. My eyes dilated as I emerged, adjusting to the reduced light of the night sky. The sun had fled for the day, leaving behind a breathtaking landscape bathed in grey hues, reflecting flashes of silver in the moonlight.

I silently scanned the horizon, looking for Myrnin's form and found him about thirty yards away. He was pacing briskly; an already recognizable path visible, as he made the same circuit again and again. He looked like a captured jungle cat, circling inside of a cage, patiently calculating for the opportunity he knew would come. When it did, there would be no hesitation. Death would come quickly for his prey. My heartbeat seemed to shimmy up my chest and echo in my ears as I wondered what awaited me tonight. From his restless movements, I knew I wasn't the only one worried about the outcome.

The wind shifted. I shivered as the cool night air rippled across my skin, pulling the tiny hairs on my arms to attention. Myrnin turned toward me, his face a mixture of relief and concern. In one instant, he was standing nearly thirty yards away; in the next instant, faster than my brain could process, he was at my side. "Are you cold?" he murmured, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and wrapping it gently around my shoulders.

"A little," I sighed, gathering the fabric snuggly to my body. It smelled like him - spice and woods, wonder and brilliance all combined to create the perfect elixir for my senses. I breathed in deeply letting his familiarity calm my nerves.

We began the walk back to the guesthouse, both lapsing into uncomfortable silence, unsure where to begin. I twisted my palms together absent-mindedly, trying to release the pent up anxiety of the thousand questions running rampant through my brain, but not one of them made it to a coherent inquiry on my lips. The scientific side of me desperately wanted to jot down and analyze all of the data, confident that the process would lead me to only one logical solution. But I knew better. None of the challenges I faced in the next few days would be that easy to solve.

After a long moment, I heard Myrnin take an unnecessary deep breath next to me. I turned toward him, waiting for him to speak. He remained silent as though he decided against, what it was, he had planned to say. As I stared at him in the moonlight I was distracted by his broad shoulders, and watched the angular planes of his muscular chest, expand and contract with forced breaths. Adrenaline and nervousness shot through me. I ducked my head back down shyly, hoping he hadn't noticed the blush that began to spread across my cheeks.

I knew I was being ridiculous for reacting like that. I'd seen him shirtless many times. Hell, I'd even seen him pant-less. Myrnin wasn't overly concerned with society's expectations for proper decorum, and frequently ran around the lab in his boxers; I envied his freedom from inhibitions. But seeing him now was different. Knowing where we were headed and what we were about to do – well, what I assumed, but didn't really have any details on yet – was making my belly do backflips in suspense.

He finally filled the silence between us, murmuring, "You don't have to do this." Somehow the words came out laced with both tension and longing. I peeked up from under my lashes, to look at his face. He couldn't hide his true feelings from me as well anymore, and I watched him wrestle to get his desire back under control. Whatever it was, there was no doubt he very much wanted it.

"I know. But don't you think you should tell me exactly what this is, before I decide?" I quirked my head to the side, curious again by the range of emotions this topic brought out in him: lust, fear, guilt.

"It is intimate—"he began before trailing off into silence again, struggling with himself for a moment to find words.

I waited; my surprise growing directly parallel to the length of time it was taking him to utter his next sentence. Myrnin's vocabulary was stunning in and of itself, due to centuries of reading every form of literature known to mankind. An exceedingly-small number of occasions could ever render him speechless. As I waited, I took inventory of my memories; calculating the number of times he had been overwhelmed to the point of a loss for words. I was stunned to realize, he had never been quite like this, before. Trying to nudge him out of the one-sided conversation he was clearly having in his mind, I recapped what we had already discussed. "—and a connection."

Still no response.

"—and?" I gently prodded.

The secluded cottage, that Gwion provided, rose up to meet us, effectively delaying our conversation. Something about its subtle strength and warm glow peeking through the windows, reminded me the Glass House. I felt a twinge. Shane and I were no longer together. I hadn't thought far enough ahead to consider what that was going to mean to my living arrangements. I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. If I was going to get us home, I would need to focus all of my energy on the next few hours – and nothing else.

Myrnin held open the door, his eyes bright again, at what I guessed to be, his relief, at the small reprieve of our difficult conversation.

I stepped lightly over the threshold, and stopped abruptly, finally noticing the details I had missed before, in our rush. There was a classically understated L-shaped bisque couch in the center of the room, facing a herring bone tiled fireplace; a roaring fire throwing light and shadows playfully around the room.

Myrnin gently nudged me forward, with his hand against the small of my back. I felt a spark of electricity spread warmly through me, at his touch, and worked to relax my breathing.

I let my fingers trail along the hard lines, of the metal and wood, table as I passed by; the deep mahogany surface complimenting the neutral palette of the room perfectly. Twinkling lights danced from twin chandeliers, hung gracefully from the high ceiling. I let my senses soak in the elegance and beauty that whispered from every corner.

"Do you like it?" Myrnin asked, his voice low, as he watched my expression of pleasure. Without waiting for an answer, he gathered my hand and led me through the cozy living room toward large French doors. The evening was profound, and the reflection of the interior light against the glass, limited my ability to see any details past glimmering orbs of color in the darkness outside. He grasped one of the handles; his large hand twisting it slightly. The door released easily, unable to resist his strength.

"Oh," I breathed softly, as we stepped out into a perfectly manicured garden complete with stone architectural elements. In the center, I was captivated by the cool blue water of a large in-ground pool. I moved toward it, looking in wonder at the fine mist floating up from the surface. "Is that steam?" I inquired, nodding my head toward the wisps of water releasing from the surface and dissipating into the darkness.

"Yes. The pool is heated to 80 degrees," Myrnin confirmed. Then seeing the very slight twitch of my fingers, he nodded and encouraged me, "go ahead."

I reached my hand down, breaking the surface, drawn toward the liquid sensation. The water was warm and soothing, causing the tension to bleed from my bones. I inhaled deeply; the scent of chlorine mixed with a garden full of flowers, tickled my nose.

I stood back to my feet and found Myrnin's eyes in the half-light, captivated by the danger and mystery hidden in their depths. "It's beautiful," I whispered, afraid any noise louder than that would break the magical spell cast over the lovely house.

"Come, let's talk," his tone husky, as he took possession of my hand again and gently tugged me back toward the waiting open French doors.

A flicker of renewed nervousness wound through my belly as I followed him inside and to the couch. He sat down casually, leaning back against the corner of the sectional, with his arm propped over the back toward me. His relaxed posture did not conceal the anxiety I could still plainly see in his eyes. I settled onto a surprisingly comfortable cushion and tucked my legs up underneath me slightly, turning my body to face him.

"Tell me about the challenges," I requested softly, my brow furrowed; certain that I wouldn't like the answer, but figured before I could decide on the 'cure', I needed to fully understand the 'disease'.

"They will take place in your mind. He won't force your will, but he will deceive your senses into, seeing and hearing, things that are not real," Myrnin explained carefully.

"So, I just have to recognize the lie?" I looked at him inquisitively, turning over the possibilities in my mind.

"Yes," he replied quietly, watching me intently.

"And you don't think I can win," I murmured, reiterating his earlier comments.

"No," he answered darkly, his eyes tight. His hand that was draped over the back of the couch, clenched into a fist, as he tried to reign in the anger that flowed through him, at the thought of my failure.

I wrapped my hand around his tightly closed fingers, gently prying them open. He released his grip as he held my gaze. I slipped my fingers through his, linking them together. "Why not?" I whispered, afraid of the response this question would earn me.

"No human – or vampire – has ever beaten him," he stated matter-of-factly, his expression as cold as steel.

I sucked in a deep breath at this revelation, reconsidering my determination to accept Gwion's challenge. Myrnin felt my response; recognized my decision to continue on this seemingly foolish path, was wavering. He leaned toward me, his eyes fierce, trying to pull me all of the way to his side. "Please don't do this; you don't have to do this," he pleaded.

Something strong stirred inside of me. I wanted desperately to agree; to make him happy, to soothe his worry and fear. But another part knew I could never walk away and leave Shane and Michael locked up, at the mercy of Gwion. Instead of answering, I asked tentatively, "What advantage would I gain if we go through with the Clāmāre?"

Myrnin sighed heavily in resignation, before leaning back again and continuing, "I would share my abilities with you, enabling you to tap into and use my mental defenses. I will see the challenges but couldn't intercede on your behalf. You would have to do that all on your own."

"But, if no vampire has ever succeeded, how is there even a small chance that a human using a vampire's abilities might work?" I asked, still struggling to understand what mental defenses he was offering.

"—because I am different. Gwion created me and my mental skills are unique," his voice trailed off before continuing a bit reluctantly, not wanting to encourage me toward the challenges, "—and you are different. Your brain works faster than most humans. And you have survived me," he finished pointedly, guilt touching his eyes again.

I held my breath for a moment, trying to calm the flutters in my belly, knowing I was coming to the most important question. How? How was this connection created? I had never seen him want something more than he appeared to want this, so why was he pleading with me to refuse him? My curiosity burned through my reservations and I asked shyly, "How is it done?"

The muscles in his chest coiled in tension. At the same time, his eyes blazed black with desire. Immediately, I felt heat burst through me. It was still new – him, looking at me with unguarded craving; as though he were imaging all of the many ways he wanted to pleasure me. I worked to pull my thoughts back into cognitive order as he explained.

"Everyone has a natural mental barrier. Those of us, who can compel, can get past that barrier, but only in one sense. If I compel you, I remain in control. However, for me to give you control of my gifts, you first have to willingly and absolutely remove that natural barrier from me. Once it is gone, I can transfer those abilities into your mind, for you to use. I won't be able to force this connection on you. You have to relinquish your will completely and submit to mine, for me to complete the process."

"How?" I breathed, blushing slightly, already suspecting where this conversation was going.

"Claire, some of the steps are specific, meant to mirror purposeful acts of submission. Others will be spontaneous, dependent on my reactions. The entire process is going to be intimate on a level I am not sure you are ready for." I could tell he was choosing his words carefully, delicately, but he was creating quite a powerful mental picture anyway.

"Intimate…as in, sex?" I tried to keep my tone calm as random images of making love to him, kept popping in my mind.

"More than sex," he answered, stressing the word 'more' as he carefully studied my response. I knew he might completely refuse the process if I reacted in fear, so I purposefully kept my face smooth. My heartbeat and pulse were another matter altogether. They raced faster, imaging all of the things the word 'more' could involve.

"Okay," I spoke carefully, trying to organize my quickly straying thoughts. "Why don't you start by telling me the steps that are specific?"

"The first is fairly easy," he began and I waited in suspense, wondering what his definition of easy was going to be. "You would need to remove all physical barriers – clothing – from your body, versus me taking them from you."

Take off my clothes? That didn't sound difficult. "I can do that," I whispered, and waited for the steps he didn't think would be easy.

"You would be bound," his voice trailed off, letting me absorb the full impact of his words.

Bound? Okay, definitely not as easy as undressing myself. Just to be sure I completely understood, I asked softly, "Figuratively or literally?"

"Literally," he replied, his eyes burning into mine.

I swallowed slowly and focused again on regulating my breathing to a normal pace. It felt a bit surreal that we had only kissed once and now we were casually plotting out how we were going to have sex for the first time – with some form of bondage, nonetheless. But strangely, I didn't feel afraid. Out-of-my-mind nervous, yes, but not fearful.

I reached my hand to his cheek as I stared into his unfathomable gaze, his expression filled with concern. I closed my eyes and let my imagination picture it: him tying me up and making love to me, in every way he wanted, without any reservation. Shockingly, I felt desire crash over me, hard and strong. I opened my eyes slowly and responded, my voice thick with anticipation, "I can do that."

A low growl reverberated from his chest and his pupils dilated at my response, further sending my senses into a slow burning frenzy. I slid myself closer to him. "What else?" I murmured.

He pulled back from my advance, as if trying to slow down a fire simmering just below the surface; his eyes panicked slightly, now that he realized the very real possibility we were going to go through with it.

I watched his internal struggle and brought my other hand up to capture his face between them; trying to convince him of something I was becoming surer of every moment. "You won't hurt me," I whispered.

His voice was tight. "Not intentionally; but this process would excite and ignite a much deeper feral side of me. It won't work unless it's real. You are going to have to want everything that happens to you. If I go too far, if I hurt you, the connection will not happen."

His hands slid up my arms to grip my wrists tightly, keeping me in place, locked in his gaze. His eyes piercing as he explicitly drew me a mental image, "Claire, I have imagined taking you in every way possible," his voice dropped huskily as the memories of his fantasies continued to fuel the fire inside of him. "I don't know…which…of those desires will surface…"

I'm not sure what response he expected me to have to his words, or even what response I expected from myself, but instantly, searing heat flashed over my skin. The sudden onslaught of desire forced blood and oxygen, to coil through my veins; my chest heaving to keep up.

His eyes flashed black with lust at my response, his reserve beginning to break. He brought his forehead down to mine and groaned, "The scent of your arousal is stunning."

A small whine escaped the back of my throat as I tried to push against his hands, which were restricting mine, and move closer to him. Immediately, his grip tightened almost painfully. I snapped my head back, my gaze searching his face in surprise.

His charcoal eyes were wild, as he desperately tried to stay in control. He whispered in agony, "I would never forgive myself if I hurt you…or worse…"

"—or worse?" I tried to understand where he was going.

"Claire, it isn't just your body that you have to surrender to me," his words were thick with his craving to have me, but his tone pleaded with me to deny him.

"My blood"—of course, how did I not see that coming? Now I understood his guilt.

"Yes," his expression was tortured as he tried to make me understand the potential for danger. But he had been drinking my blood for weeks now. Of course, not fresh from the source, but my blood had sustained him, while we still didn't know the extent of the threat in Morganville. That had to mean something.

I looked at him carefully, feeling the answer to one teeny tiny question would help me decide just how capable he would be, subconsciously, of hurting or possibly even killing me. I looked down, my cheeks flaming, not sure how to ask what I needed to know. Such a simple question, but impossible to say.

He noticed my hesitation and my embarrassment. "What is it?" the intensity in his voice curled around his words seductively, finding a reaction in my lower abdomen.

I sucked in a deep breath and just said it. "Do…do you…love me?" And then cringed as soon as the words came out. "Never mind…don't answer that," I mumbled, wishing I could pull them back so that they had never been uttered outside of the ridiculous ramblings in my head. Talk about accelerating our relationship. We had only shared one kiss and already I was demanding he declare himself. If I kept up this pace, I should have us married and settled by the end of the week.

"Cariad, look at me," his voice was husky, almost a growl. I wanted to do just the opposite. I wanted to bury my head in his chest and never look at him again, but his tone left no room for disagreement. I raised my eyes slowly. He waited until I was utterly lost in his eternal gaze before he answered, "Yes."

His reply shot a warm shiver down my spine. I shouldn't have worried; he knew exactly why I needed to know the answer to that question, and I could not find a trace of insincerity in his response.

With renewed determination, I pulled against his hold on my wrists again. The conflict did not escape his eyes; his shoulders remained tight as he warred within himself, but this time, he released me. My pulse thrummed loudly in my head as I slid my arms out of his borrowed shirt; and then removed my top gently over my head.

He made no move to stop me, his gaze transfixed on the flesh I was slowly revealing.

My fingers trailed down to the zipper on my shorts, undoing it easily, in spite of my faint trembling. I lifted my hips a little, so that I could wiggle the shorts down over my legs, leaving me in just my panties and bra.

Myrnin was completely still, watching my every movement. The struggle was gone from his vision now, replaced by intense desire glowing in his black irises. I blushed under the intensity of his gaze. His hand twitched a few times. A small smiled tugged at my lips; I wondered how hard it was for him to refrain from simply tearing my clothes from me.

I slid the straps of my bra down and reached to my back to release the clasp. A low growl came from his chest as I let it drop to the ground. My breath caught in my throat when he licked his lips, his eyes moving along the curves of my body in undeniable appreciation.

His hand that had twitched when I peeled off my top and shorts, now clenched into a fist, as I reached for my underwear. My smile widened. I knew I would have to relinquish control, but for now, I was thoroughly enjoying the struggle he was having in waiting on me to completely remove the physical barriers between us.

Curling my thumbs into the waist band, I lifted my hips again and slowly slid my underwear down and off of my legs, causing his hard-on to become very prominent. He shifted slightly. From his expression, I couldn't tell if his change in position was meant to make his arousal more comfortable, or if he was trying to hold himself back from taking me right then. I think I might have been okay with that; my eyes were so hot for him now, I could barely see straight.

I eagerly crawled into his lap, straddling him. Immediately, his arms came around me in an iron grip. He grasped my hips, pushing me down on him, while rocking upward, grinding against me.

I gasped, stunned by the amazing friction of feeling him hard between my legs. "Am I allowed to respond to you?" I asked, another deep blush warming my cheeks. Just his eyes - staring into mine with more longing and desire than I had ever seen - made me squirm in anticipation. There was no way I could simply sit quietly while he took my body for his own.

"Yes. I would like that very much," he murmured in a throaty growl that sent shivers of desire crashing down my spine. One hand splayed at the lowest part of my spine kept me pressed into him, while his other hand slid up my back until it reached my neck and tangled into my hair. With an expert twist of his wrist, he gently rotated my head to the side and back, opening up the flesh along my jawline. His mouth moved effortlessly, his tongue gliding along my neck, causing heat to erupt everywhere he touched.

Surprised at my own daring, I pressed, reminding him of his words back at the hotel bar. "—and what of your promise to touch me in ways that will make me scream your name?" I whispered; eagerness causing the muscles in my pelvis to clench tightly.

He pulled my head back carefully, so that he could look at me when he answered. His lips turned into a wicked smile as he stared with molten eyes; his hypnotic voice intoxicating my senses.

"Oh, yes," he murmured as he picked up my naked body, wrapped my legs around his waist and carried me to the bedroom.

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