ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN

LYKOS' POV

I felt a sharp jab delivered to my rib, followed immediately by a soft whimper, something else like a low mumble. I became awake, waiting and listening for anything like it.

All of my predatory senses wide and receptive like a funnel, I caught Neilla's troubled breathing next to me even as she turned. Once more, she struck me hard as she fought with an invisible force.

The cool night breeze instantly became polluted by the choking smell of her fear -coupled with a strong sense of sadness.

Filled with dread, I sat up in a bid to rouse her from her troubled slumber.

"Neilla? Baby c'mon, look at me." My voice was not without the extra deep huskiness that accompanied the early morning rise.

She didn't hear me. She turned again, this time missed smashing my balls with her knees by a few inches.

I was still able to save myself at the last minute. Still, that was the least of my heartaches.

"Babe?" I tried again in a barely contained whisper. When it seemed like that didn't wo