Manolito's eyes flew open and he looked warily around him. The voice held the same timbre as that of his youngest brother, Riordan, but it was distorted and slow, each word drawn out so that the voice, instead of resonating with familiarity, seemed demonic. Manolito shook his head and tried to rise. His body, usually graceful and powerful, felt awkward and foreign as he fell back to his knees, too weak to stand. His gut knotted and rolled. The burning spread through his system.

Riordan. I do not know what is happening to me. He used the path shared only by him and his youngest brother. He was careful to keep his energy from spilling from that path. If this was an elaborate trap, he would not draw Riordan into it. He loved his brother too much for that.

The thought made his heart go still.

Love.

He felt love for his brothers. Overwhelming. Real. So intense it took his breath away, as if the emotion had been gathering throughout the long centuries, building in strength behind a solid barrier where he couldn't access it. There was only one person in the world who could restore emotions to him. The one he'd waited centuries for.

His lifemate.

He pressed his hand tightly to his chest. There could be no doubt she was real. The ability to see color, to feel emotion: all the senses he'd lost in the first two hundred years of his life had been restored. Because of her.

So why couldn't he remember the most important woman of his life? Why couldn't he picture her? And why were they apart? Where was she?

You must go back to ground, Manolito. You cannot rise. You have journeyed long from the tree of souls. Your journey is not yet complete. You must give yourself more time.

Manolito withdrew immediately from his brother's touch. It was the right path. The voice would be the same if it wasn't playing in slow motion. But the words-the explanation was all wrong. It had to be. You couldn't go to the tree of souls unless you were dead. He wasn't dead. His heart was hammering loud-too loud. The pain in his body was real. He had been poisoned. He knew it was still burning through his system. And how