“Lives are at stake.”

“What’s the point of living without feeling? I feel for you. You stir something in me. Yes, it’s difficult, and it’s distracting. But it tells me I’m here, and that being afraid isn’t all there is. I need that, Hoyt. I need to feel more than afraid.”

He lifted a hand to brush his fingers over her cheek. “I can’t promise to protect you, but only to try.”

“I’m not asking you to protect me. I’m not asking you for anything—yet—more than truth.”

He kept his hand on her face, bringing his other up to join it in framing her as he lowered his lips. Hers parted for him, offering. So he took, needing as she did, to feel and to know.

To be human.

It was a slow simmering in the blood, a lazy tightening of muscle, a flutter of pulse—hers and his.

So easy, he thought, so easy to sink into the warm and the soft. To be surrounded by her in the dark and let himself forget, for a moment, for an hour, all that lay before them.

Her arms slid around him, linking his waist as she shifted up on her toes to meet his mouth more truly. He tasted her lips and her tongue, and the promise of them. This could be his. And he wanted to believe it more than he’d ever believed anything.

Her lips moved on his, forming his name—once, then twice. A sudden spark flared, simmer to sizzle. The heat of it rippled over his skin, burned into his heart.

Behind them, the fire that had gone to embers flared up like a dozen torches.

He drew her back, but his hands still lingered on her cheeks. He could see the fire dance in her eyes.

“There’s truth in that,” he whispered. “But I don’t know what it is.”

“Neither do I. But I feel better for it. Stronger.” She looked toward the fire. “We’re stronger together. That means something.”

She stepped back. “I’m going to bring my things up here, and we’ll work together and find out what it means.”

“You think lying together is the answer?”

“It may be, or may be one of them. But I’m not ready to lie with you yet. My body is,” she admitted. “But my mind isn’t. When I give myself to someone, it’s a commitment for me. A big one. Both of us have committed quite a bit already. We’ll both have to be sure we’re ready to give more.”

“Then what was this?”

“Contact,” she said quietly. “Comfort.” She reached a hand for his. “Connection. We’re going to make magic together, Hoyt, serious magic. That’s as intimate to me as sex. I’m going to get what I need, bring it up.”

Women, he thought, were powerful and mystical creatures even without witchcraft. Add that dose of power and a man was at a serious sort of disadvantage.

Wasn’t her scent still wrapped around him, and the taste of her still on his lips? Women’s weapons, he decided. Just as slipping away was a kind of weapon.

He’d do well to arm himself against that sort of thing.

She intended to work here in his tower, alongside him. There was good, strong sense in that. But how was a man supposed to work when his thoughts kept drifting to a woman’s mouth, or her skin, her hair, her voice?

Perhaps he’d be wise to make use of a barrier, at least temporarily. He moved to his worktable and prepared to do just that.

“Your potions and spells will have to wait,” Cian said from the doorway. “And so will romance.”

“I don’t follow your meaning.” Hoyt continued to work.

“I passed Glenna on the stairs. I know when a woman’s had a man’s hands on her. I could smell you on her. Not that I blame you,” Cian added lazily as he strolled into and around the room. “That’s a very sexy witch you have there. Desirable,” he added at his brother’s stony look. “Alluring. Bed her if you like, but later.”

“Who I bed, and when, is nothing to you.”

“Who, certainly not, but when’s another matter. We’ll use the great hall for combat training. King and I have already begun to set up. I don’t intend to end up with a stake through my heart because you and the redhead are too busy to train.”

“It won’t be a problem.”

“I don’t intend to let it be. The newcomers are unknown entities. The man fights well enough with a sword, but he’s protective of his cousin. If she can’t stand up in battle, we need to find another use for her.”

“It’s your job to see that she can, and will, stand up in battle.”

“I’ll work her,” Cian promised. “And the rest of you. But we’ll need more than swords and stakes, more than muscle.”

“We’ll have it. Leave that to me. Cian,” he said before his brother could leave the room. “Did you ever see them again? Do you know how they fared, what became of them?”

He didn’t have to be told his brother spoke of their family. “They lived and they died, as humans will.”

“Is that all they are to you?”

“Shadows are what they are.”

“You loved them once.”

“My heart beat once as well.”

“Is that the measure of love? A heartbeat?”

“We can love, even we can love. But to love a human?” Cian shook his head. “Only misery and tragedy could follow. Your parents sired what I was. Lilith made what I am.”

“And do you have love for her?”

“For Lilith.” His smile was slow, thoughtful. And humorless. “In my fashion. But don’t worry. It won’t stop me from destroying her. Come down, and we’ll see what you’re made of.”

“Two hours’ hand-to-hand, every day,” Cian announced when they were gathered. “Two hours’ weapons training, every day. Two hours’ endurance, and two on martial arts. I’ll work you here at night. King will take over in the daylight when you can train outdoors.”

“We need time for study and strategy as well,” Moira pointed out.

“Then make it. They’re stronger than you, and more vicious than you can imagine.”

“I know what they are.”

Cian merely looked at her. “You think you do.”

“Had you ever killed one before tonight?” she demanded.

“I have, more than one.”