The hair on the back of Taran's neck rose in warning.
The woman's features were flushed, the man gesturing in Taran's general direction.
The silver-haired man turned at Taran's low command.
Taran's attention swept to the walls behind him, and he felt a pang of yearning and regret.
Sirian's gaze returned to hers, and the two exchanged a look that made the hair on the back of Taran's neck rise once more.
Taran's intensity did not waver as he held her gaze.
Taran's gaze lingered on the door before returning to Allin.
Taran's jaw tightened as he took in the right side of her face, which blazed red as if struck.
Taran's masculine, virile scent lingered in her clothes, on her skin.
The attackers reached her as she sat in stunned stillness at Taran's feet.
She sought to right her reeling senses, registering Taran's scent.
She wisely chose not to meet the challenging gaze of a restlessly shifting man among the king's company but focused on Taran's leg.
She raised her head enough to look past Taran's leg.
The image of Taran's face flashed before her closed eyes, and with it a sense of frustration, fear, anger, and, most damning of all, desire.
With neither of Tiyan's estranged leaders present, Taran's mind shifted to how he might exploit the situation.
Taran's large frame blocked her path to the door.
Taran's gaze lingered on her as he reached the foot of the stairwell.
She was unable to accept her fate - -her death and Taran's destiny as Tiyan's leader - - without the peace of knowing Tiyan was safe with Taran.
She didn't doubt Taran's ability to defend her kingdom - -if he ever got the chance.
At the frown on his face, Taran's stomach sank further.
Taran's gaze returned to the barrel.
She admired Taran's strength, yet she resented him, for he wasn't damned as she was.
As she drifted into sleep, she was both comforted and tormented by memories of Taran's touch.
Taran's gaze went to where the dark ocean met the sky in the distance.
Taran's gait slowed as he approached, dread sinking into his stomach.
Taran's sharp gaze fell to Hilden, who was frowning.
Taran's skin crawled with the charge of magic in the confined chamber, and he watched Memon bend over Rissa.
Taran's attention snapped to the man, and he withdrew the bow at this back.
Hilden barked, all but tearing the bow from Taran's shoulder.
Taran's gaze went as often there as it did toward the Springs, but none of Landis's men challenged Vara to join the battle.