Page 32 of The Banshee and the Warlock

"Why not?" I resist the urge to repeat the action, though it's harder than I expect it to be.

"Because I will have to kiss you if you continue."

"Why would that be bad? We've already kissed. Several times," I point out.

"This is different," he says.

"So we can't do this?" I lean forward and briefly press my lips against his, pulling back ever so slightly to wait for how he'll respond.

He reaches forward and pulls me to him, crushing his lips against mine with barely restrained passion.

I press myself against him, barely aware of the classroom around us, or the lingering effects of my dream. None of it matters, the only thing I'm aware of is how good it feels to have Cethin's lips against mine.

His hand rests on my lower back, pulling me even tighter to him. I smooth my fingers over his shirt, wanting to feel his skin more than I ever have before.

He pulls back. "We should stop."

"Why?" I murmur. "If we want this, then why stop?"

He groans. "Anja..."

"I'm serious."

"I know you are. But we shouldn't. We're in the middle of a classroom."

"No one knows we're here. And we'll already get in trouble if they find us here," I point out, my fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as I do.

"No, we can't." The way he says the words makes it seem as if it's paining him. "You've only just found out that you're my mate, and your dream. Don't ask me to do this."

"Because you will?"

He groans. "My restraint is holding on by a thread. Please don't test it."

A small part of me is tempted to. Especially because of what he's implying will happen if I push him further. But I shouldn't do that to him. It isn't fair when he's said he doesn't want to, and while I'm disappointed by that, I have to respect his choice. If what he's saying about us being meant for each other is true, then there'll be plenty of time to explore what I want.

"Tell me about your dream," he says.

I sigh and lean my head against his shoulder.

Thistle hops down from where she's watching from one of the benches and comes to sit by me, clearly called by my magic. Cethin must be right about her being my familiar, she's responding far too often when I've had my dreams for there to be another explanation.

"The woman from the river talked to me," I say. "It's the first time that's happened."

"What did she say?"

"A load of cryptic stuff about me having to accept what I can do before I can stop the dreams. Which I get, but at the same time, I have no idea what I can do. If I could accept it, then I would."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"It's just that there must be more clues than that. You said she looked like you?"

"Yes. Long silver-white hair, deathly pale skin, sometimes she looks really old, other times she looks my age. She washes things in the river in some of the dreams. Oh, and the wailing was different this time. It sounded like it was coming from more than one place. I don't know, it all seems as if it's raised more questions than it's answered."

He frowns. "Maybe. But it's also given us a lot of information to work with." He leans in and kisses the top of my head. "We'll work it out."

I sigh and lean into him. "I hope so." Because I really can't keep waking up in the middle of the night screaming, even if I no longer have to shoulder the knowledge of that alone.