of burning hair t

ough the crack. My mother looked so small, a fragile slip of grey linen against the stake. The H

r lips moving in a silent, desperate command: Hide,

wore the black robes of the Inquisition, a silver cross catching the firelight. He turned

us

thmic, deathly clink against the cobblestones. "Found you, little witch," he w

O-

air, but my lungs felt like they were filled with hot ash. I was drenched i

olten lead, surging through my veins with a pressure that threa

he difference between the dream and the room. I felt the collar tightening, a band of ice trying to choke a fire that wouldn't die.

please, don'

A

dark silhouette surged into

night like a different kind of battlefield. He saw me huddled in the corner of th

nd, pinning them against the sheets w

on was a smear of red and black. "Don't

slammed into his ribs, but he didn't even grunt. He was a mountain of solid muscle

crushing s

forcing the air out of my lungs. The contrast was a violent shock

ommanding rumble that cut through the panic. "There is no fir

akened, my breath coming in ragged, sobbing hitches. My pupils final

h. Only

my voice was a

's

his thighs locking mine in place. I could feel the

he fire in my blood stil

s bare, icy palm against my forehead. Biting, glorious ice. I chased the sensation instinct

the lapel of his silk robe, my knuckles

tood still, his hand anchored to my face. For a long, silent

whispered. His voice was so

and pulling me-duvet and all-into t

e was a steady drain, siphoning the fever from my marrow. I curled into him, my nose pressed

f the overload finally faded, l

in. My leg hooked over his waist, and my hand slid beneath the hem o

ined breath. His entire body tu

.Fu

e shadows of sleep to care about his dignity, or mine. I just hel