Page 35

He hesitated, rolling the words around carefully in his mouth.

“Wanting is powerful,” he finally said, voice low. He offered nothing more, and I couldn’t find the words to ask him a follow up question. Wolfe stood and towered over me. “Warm up. I will…wait for you down stairs.”

I nodded, lips cracked and dry. “Thank you,” I called.

He paused in the doorway, signet ring on his pinky winking in the light.

“No, Avery,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

I took my time drying off, trying to calm my racing heart.

He was so real. Whole. Warm.

Far more devastating than his portrait did him justice for.

Would it hold, this magic? Or would he be gone by sunrise?

Something told me that it was too good to be true. That when the sun rose, he’d go right along with it and this would all have been just a strange dream.

I ran a towel through my hair and shucked the rest of my wet clothes. I shivered as I changed, sliding on a pair of leggings and an over-sized sweatshirt. I found a pair of thick socks and rolled them on.

Somewhere below, a very masculine sigh filtered through the air.

Was something wrong?

Panicked, I walked quickly from my room and back down the stairs. My legs were still shaking and I nearly slipped again, clutching the banister with my bandaged hand to keep me upright.

When I entered the sitting room, I found Wolfe by the fire. He had his hands held out to it, watching the flames dance in the grate. At this angle, he was barely there. Nothing but filtered light and a wafting of smoke. I saw through him, and my stomach dropped to my toes.

“Is something wrong?”

He didn’t move, eyes still locked on the flames. “I couldn’t make tea,” he said, and he sounded almost ashamed. Embarrassed.

“What?”

“I couldn’t make tea,” he gritted out. “I almost dropped the kettle.”

Oh.

Oh.

“That’s—that’s all right.” I dared a step closer. “It’s your first night. There has to be…energy adjustments, right? If you spend too much too quickly…”

“I weaken,” he said bitterly.

“Hey.” I stepped closer. “You—you took care of me. Made sure I was okay.” I held up my hand. “It’s enough.”

“Hardly,” he grunted. “I should be able to do more.”

Those words came from a deep, vulnerable place. I knew because it lived inside me, too.

“You’re doing plenty. You got the fire going, didn’t you? I’m warm. I’m safe.” He nodded, jaw clenched tight. “You’re here,” I added, voice breaking. “We figure it out as we go.”

His nod was curt, clipped. “I suppose.”

He didn’t like that one bit. He flickered, a screen going in and out. One moment he was as vibrant as the sun, the next, I could barely see him.

“Do you feel…faint?” I asked hesitantly.