Becoming Bad (The Becoming Novels) by Jess Raven, Paula Black Page B

breath, intensely aware of her reactions.
    Heart rate elevated, breaths panicked, skin coated in a fine sheen of sweat and Ash knew she probably looked as freaked as she was trying not to feel. She was being provoked.
Just breathe, Ash. Maybe he knows what he’s doing … hopefully he knows what he’s doing.
    Cloth dabbed at her forehead, snapping her thoughts front and centre.
    ‘Your beast strengthens by the hour, Ashling. I can feel your quickening in my own blood. You must contain it.’
    Terror roared over her careful control. ‘But how?’
    His face was so sympathetic, it hurt to look at it. She didn’t trust his concern. ‘For this to work, you need to relax. Breathe deep.’
    Ash complied shakily.
    ‘Taste the smoke in your lungs, it will calm you.’ He took up pacing around her once more, his eyes searing where they lingered.
    A warning rolled from her throat.
    He cast her an admonishing look but continued. ‘From childhood, we were sent to the Thegn Masters for instruction. They taught us to transcend emotions, to diffuse our triggers, by diverting their energy.’
    ‘Triggers?’
    ‘Negative stimuli: fear, pain, anger, grief … lust.’ He prowled around her and even the words bristled something primal in her. ‘Jealousy, I believe we have established.’
    From behind her, Mac’s voice was low with amusement. She could sense the damn smirk. ‘You must learn to cool the rage in your blood, control it, before it consumes you.’
    When he next came into view, he was playing something through his fingers. It was a goddamn whip. Fear flooded her blood with adrenaline and flipped her switch from warily compliant to frantic. She reared away from him. Her curled lip was a nod to the leather he stroked tenderly over his palm.
    ‘Back up there, Wolf-Boy. I signed up for your creepy meditation, not flagellation. You are not BDSM-ing me with that.’
    He snapped it out and she flinched back on a snarl as the thin, singular fall cracked the ground beside her. Mac was baiting her, and it was working. Ash’s hackles were up.
    ‘You see? I haven’t even touched you, and already you’re set to detonate. You wield power you are not equipped to handle, Ashling, like an assault rifle in the hands of a child. If you cannot rein it in, you will be disarmed.’
    She caught the threat but bit back the growl. He was right.
    Mac secured the snake whip under his arm and dipped to catch her eyes with his. There was a promise there, a warning, and as he drew a strip of silk from his pocket, Ash knew he was giving her the opportunity to fight against it.
    She met his eyes, throat bobbing in a nervous swallow, but she didn’t resist. He couldn’t help her if she wouldn’t let him.
    The smile that curved his lips was admiration and, with a wink that shot heat between her thighs, Mac knotted the fabric at the back of her head, blotting her vision to black. Fingertips brushed her cheek.
    ‘Breathe … relinquish your fear … in order to attain control, you must first let go.’
    Tears knotted her words and she was grateful for the silk catching the few that escaped. ‘I’m afraid.’ Her control was rarely relinquished. It kept her together. It had protected her for so long, she found it difficult to hand it over.
    ‘Reach inside yourself, Ashling. Find your place, your serenity.’
    ‘My place? I don’t ...’ Honestly, there wasn’t a place she could think of that was serene for her. Her life had been lonely, or nightmarish, or hectic with overwhelming passion, and she couldn’t think. The smoke was making her drunk, a fog in her head that barely took the edge off the unnerving sensory deprivation he’d wrapped her up in. He didn’t speak but she could feel him on the peripheral of her senses. She focussed on that as her anchor, while the rest of her body floated.
     

SANCTUARY

    Breathe, don’t think, relax.
Her eyes closed behind the blindfold and she exhaled, blowing away the fog in her head and finding a