Chapter Four WITCHING MOON

Chapter Four

WITCHING MOON

Week One, Day Ten

Year 3000

When Ash had told her that she would be training with Ulric and Elevia from now on, Zanya had expected grueling swordfights and bouts of hand-to-hand combat fierce enough to exhaust the nervous energy that coursed through her. Truth be told, she'd been eager for the chance to test herself against the dark, dangerous power that curled around the Wolf and the Huntress—power that spoke of over three thousand years of strength and training.

Instead, Ulric took her back to the Huntress's war table. The damage Ash had accidentally inflicted had been seamlessly repaired, as if it had never happened.

Elevia stood at the head of the table dressed in her usual leathers, her blonde hair braided tightly around her head. She propped her hands expectantly on her hips. "Have you come prepared, young one?"

Zanya flexed her fingers. "I don't know. Ash said you'd be training me, but ..." She gestured at the table. "I thought he meant swords, not tactics."

"Blades are superfluous, and you are not ready for tactics. Not yet."

Confusion rose, but Zanya found no relief in Ulric's stormy expression. She wet her lips nervously. "Is it about learning self-control? Because I killed the soldier?"

"Let's start with what you can do ," Elevia suggested. "You can transport yourself and others across distances. What are the parameters of this ability?"

At least she had an answer to this. "I can only travel to a place I've been before. Or to a person I have a connection to."

"What happens if you try to pinpoint an unknown place or person as your destination?"

She'd tried, once, in the dizzying aftermath of accepting her full powers. She'd stood with Ash and Sachi in her arms and tried to take them back to Dragon's Keep, to Ash's bedroom. "The shadows gather around me, but I can't ... step . Not until I think of a place I know."

Elevia pulled out a chair and gestured for Zanya to sit, remaining silent until she complied. "Does it have to be a place you've been, seen with your own eyes, or will comprehensive study of a location's layout and function suffice?"

"I . . . don't know."

"You can transport people. How many? Are some easier than others?" Elevia barely paused for breath. "What about objects? Other creatures? Does mass factor into this at all?"

"Or distance," Ulric rumbled. "You say you can travel to someone you've met. What about someone I've met? Can you travel to a place I've been if I'm with you? What happens if someone's standing right where you mean to come out? Could you travel to a moving boat? From a moving boat? Could you carry the boat with you?"

"And these are just the questions we can think of right now, about this particular thing." Elevia tilted her head. "What about the Terrors? Can you unmake any Terror, or only one you summoned into our realm yourself? Will they obey your commands? Will they defend you, fight for you? For Sachi?"

Zanya's stomach lurched. "No."

For a long moment, Elevia just looked at her. "No, they won't do these things," she asked softly. "Or no, you refuse to even think about this?"

"No, I won't use Terrors as a weapon." It was hard to hold Elevia's gaze, but she didn't let her own waver. "It's not an option. I won't try."

"Why?"

The memory fought to rise, and Zanya choked it down. Bits and pieces still trickled through—the helpless screams of villagers. The sound of rending flesh. Blood, the scent strong and metallic and not nearly as upsetting to her as it should have been.

Sachi's horrified sobs.

The Huntress's sharp gaze saw too much. Zanya broke and looked away. "Please."

Silence. Then, "Fair enough. What else can you do?" Elevia leaned over Zanya's chair. "When you know all these answers, then you'll be ready for swords and tactics. But not before."

Relief flooded her when she realized Elevia wouldn't push it. Childhood memory faded, taking the screams of agony and her own bitter shame with it. Ulric and Elevia weren't like her trainers in the capital. They weren't here to shape her into a tool fit for their hands and their purposes, and they wouldn't force her to learn against her will. Having the depth of her ignorance of her powers laid out before her like a banquet wasn't enjoyable ...

But they wanted her to learn everything she could be. And they'd help her get there. New anticipation buzzed along her nerves, and she lifted her chin. "I didn't come prepared," she told the Huntress, meeting her eyes squarely. "But I want to be."

"Good," Elevia murmured. "Then let's begin."

Sunset found Zanya up to her chin in hot water, soaking muscles that ached for reasons she could not begin to imagine.

But I want to be.

Had she spoken those words only this afternoon? She felt at least a dozen years older. How young and innocent she had been. How foolishly energetic. Groaning, Zanya sank beneath the surface as if the hot water might do its work on her aching skull.

Only if she stayed beneath it long enough to drown.

Zanya had naively thought that controlling her abilities would be the hardest part. Through ruthless, methodical experimentation, Ulric and Elevia had shown her the truth—mastering the magic that seethed inside her was a distant dream if she did not first understand it.

So they'd experimented. Over the course of an afternoon, Zanya had visited every corner of the Sheltered Lands. Distance seemed to make no difference in the difficulty, but what she brought with her did.

Objects were the simplest—she transported stacks of pillows as light as feathers and cartons of ingots meant for the blacksmith with equal ease. Physical contact seemed to be the limiting factor—if she could pick it up, she could move it.

Mortals proved equally uncomplicated. Though she'd had to grit her teeth to endure being locked in a circle of a dozen of Elevia's retainers, as long as she had physical contact with all of them, she could move them as far as she wanted with no strain.

The High Court themselves were the first stumbling block. She'd traveled with Ash and Sachi plenty of times and knew the feel of them—a heft , as if she had to lift them before she stepped. Nothing that could challenge her, but not so effortless as the mortals, either. But transporting Elevia was harder, as if the world resisted her attempt to carry the other woman into the Void. Ulric was even worse, and the first time she'd tried to carry them together, she'd felt the strain.

Elevia had leapt upon the variation, a huntress fixed on the target of a mystery, and so the experiments had continued. Zanya had carried them across the country to the Witchwood, where Inga had proved an eager passenger. Traveling with the Witch wasn't so bad—the Void seemed as intrigued by her as she was by it. But when the time came to transport the Lover ...

Forming shadows around Aleksi had felt like strapping a mountain to her back. Carrying him with her the single step it took to travel to his Villa felt so momentous, her arms physically shook when they stepped into the bright sunlight of his courtyard. So had his. She'd offered to leave him at his home to spare him the return trip, but he'd pointed out with a sigh that Elevia would never forgive him and held out his hand.

Carrying him back had been twice as bad somehow. He'd arrived at Dragon's Keep looking as ragged as Zanya felt and immediately begged off further trips.

He'd been granted a reprieve. So had all the animals, after her attempt to travel with a horse had resulted in a beast so panicked it had taken Ulric an age to calm the poor thing. He'd been the one to flatly forbid any more attempts with wild or tame creatures, and by that point Zanya was all too eager to comply.

The animals had been spared. Zanya had not.

She hadn't realized she could still be driven to limp-kneed exhaustion, but by the time Elevia and Ulric were satisfied with their experiments, she'd barely made it back to her quarters and into the tub. Their final words chased her there, cheerful approval that might as well have been a threat: "A good baseline. Now we can truly begin."

Staying underwater until she drowned sounded less exhausting than facing the whole thing again tomorrow. But Zanya had never been one to quit.

She surfaced to find a sympathetic Sachi hovering nearby with a towel draped over her arm. "Long day?"

Zanya fought the urge to whimper. Actually whimper . "The Huntress and the Wolf decided Ash was going too easy on me, and they intend to rectify the situation."

"Were they right?"

Of course they were. Zanya and Ash still balanced precariously on either side of Sachi, two people bound together by their shared devotion to their princess. Lust had been easy enough to kindle, but trust between predators was much harder. And Ash was so damn protective , as if he couldn't tolerate having the tiniest hurt befall anyone under his care.

And apparently, Zanya now fell under his care. The unnaturalness of it made her anxious in an entirely unfamiliar way. "They were too right. He coddles me when he should not."

"Why should he not?" A trace of indignation colored Sachi's voice as she unfurled the towel and held it up. "He loves you."

"No, he loves you ," Zanya countered, rising. "What he and I have is far more complicated."

She reached for the towel—which had been warmed—but Sachi clung to it stubbornly, wrapping it around Zanya's wet body herself. Then she held out a hand, steadying her as she stepped from the bath.

Finally, she spoke. "Love can be complicated, and it can look different for everyone. My feelings for Ash are not the same ones I carry for you, but that's all right. They both sing like love to me."

"Because you have a generous heart." Zanya cupped Sachi's cheek and stroked a thumb over the soft fullness of her lower lip. "You love so openly. It takes me more time. I suspect it usually takes him more time, too, but who could resist you?"

"I would have thought you too tired for flattery tonight." But Sachi blushed as she rubbed the towel over Zanya's skin. Then she retrieved a similarly warmed robe of sumptuous black silk and eased it up Zanya's arms. "Come. I've set a chair in front of the fire. I'll brush your hair."

It was a complete reversal of the roles they'd been locked into by their trainers in the capital. And truth be told, Zanya had never minded this part. Tending to Sachi, pampering her ... There'd been pleasure in that. She loved taking care of her.

But there was pleasure in being tended to, as well. Especially when that sweet flush stole over Sachi's cheeks and she lowered her lashes. Demure yet eager, the way she looked sometimes when she sank to her knees and offered to please Zanya.

So she followed Sachi to the chair. She dropped into it, the tired ache in her muscles a fading memory as warmed silk slid over her skin and Sachi's gentle fingers stroked through her hair. "Have you decided to be sweet to me tonight?"

"Whenever am I not?"

"When you want to be bad." Zanya closed her eyes, the pleasure of Sachi's touch sinking into her. "I've noticed how eagerly Ash rewards your misbehavior."

A musical laugh floated up as Sachi dragged her fingers slowly through Zanya's wet hair, carefully detangling the strands. "I couldn't deprive him of his fun. Besides, you know how novel it is for him, the fact that I'm not scared or nervous. I would never take that away."

Zanya supposed that made sense. It certainly explained how her sparring matches with Ash tended to spiral out of control, as if the danger she represented were the finest aphrodisiac. The first time she'd felt him hard and aroused beneath her had been with her knife at his throat.

And the last time she'd felt him hard beneath her had been the night she'd almost killed him.

Her heart skipped a beat. Zanya focused on the familiar touch of Sachi's fingers to ground herself. "Have you ... since we came back to Dragon's Keep? With him?"

It took Sachi a moment to answer. "No. But you'd know that already, if you ever stayed in bed instead of getting up to pace the castle grounds all night."

"Night isn't the only time you can have sex," Zanya countered. "And I wouldn't be angry, if that's what you think."

"I know you better than that, Zan."

"I just don't want ..." She tilted her head back and stared up into Sachi's beautiful eyes. "I'm the one having problems. I don't want to get in the way."

"You aren't. You couldn't ." Sachi smiled, then sighed. "What are you really trying to say, love?"

Zanya lifted her head and gazed into the fire. Was it her imagination that the flames seemed to dance, even without the Dragon here? Did they rise and fall to please the woman Ash loved? "You have a place here. Maybe we never expected you to actually fill it, but you do . You're the Dragon's consort. This is your tower. You have duties and responsibilities. I don't know how I fit in."

This time, Sachi's laugh was more rueful. "Where do you fit in? You're the Endless Void, Zanya. Part of their court. Demand your own tower on their Godwalk, if you please." Her voice softened. "Or you could simply stay where you have always belonged. With me."

Zanya had spent the entire day in brutal training, trying to learn how to handle the responsibilities of her new powers, but the idea of demanding her own castle among the High Court's estates still felt untethered from reality. Even sitting here, while Sachi tended to her , felt wrong.

"A single moon ago, everyone agreed that I belonged in whatever closet was assigned to house your maid." Zanya closed her eyes as she bared the full depth of her insecurity. "At least they trained you to be someone . I'm barely literate, Sachi. Ignorant of everything but violence. How am I meant to sit at a table alongside gods as if I'm one of them?"

"Because you are ." Gentle arms slid around her neck, and Sachi's next words stirred her damp hair. "And because you're the bravest, most determined person I've ever met. You're smarter than your trainers ever realized, and I love you ."

The words worked their usual magic. No matter how desperate their circumstances, no matter how bleak their chances, Sachi's touch had a way of lifting any burden. As if hopelessness simply could not exist in a world where a creature as bright as Sachielle lived and breathed and adored you.

It must be partly her nature. Some innate magic tied to what she was, the literal essence of dreams. Zanya should ask Ash if he felt the same way when Sachi stroked light fingers over his skin and whispered his name in that breathless voice. If it eased one darkness inside him while stoking another—a hunger to wrap that brightness in protective arms and guard her from a world that would dim her light.

That was the darkness that wound through Zanya now, languid and dangerous. "Sachi?"

"Yes, love?"

"Come here."

Sachi laid the hairbrush on the dressing table with a soft click, then slowly walked around Zanya to stand before her. "How may I serve you?"

She looked ethereal, her simple white shift translucent where Zanya's wet body had pressed against hers. The blaze of the fire behind her outlined her curves and gave the wild spill of her golden hair its own molten highlights. The hunger inside Zanya that never truly slept exploded into a craving so deep, it took all her self-control not to lunge for Sachi and drag her to the ground.

Her fingers flexed on the arms of the chair—and the wood cracked beneath her grip. Panic jolted through her, followed by the first kiss of shadows rippling around her legs and up her body. If she hadn't been so tired , they probably already would have taken her away, but she caught herself and forced them to dissipate.

Sachi slid to the floor, her hands on Zanya's knees. "Stay with me."

"I'm afraid to touch you," Zanya whispered hoarsely. "I'll hurt you."

Sachi shook her head, her fingers already edging beneath silk. "I'm not afraid."

Of course she wasn't. Zanya loosened her grip on the damaged chair, but she couldn't bring herself to touch Sachi. Not yet. "I threw one of the Raven Guard through the fence surrounding the practice grounds this morning and fractured the keep walls. How can you trust me when I don't even know my own strength?"

"Because you're just like Ash. You don't want to hurt me." She lowered her head and licked the inside of Zanya's knee, sparking a shiver of anticipation. "You'd die first."

"I'd never do it on purpose," she agreed, breathless as the robe gave way under Sachi's clever fingers. Silk slid over her skin, caressing her breasts and her aching nipples. Warm breath feathered higher on her inner thigh as Sachi edged her knees wider. She wanted to sink her fingers deep in that golden hair and twist tight. "But you're so good at making me lose control."

"Don't think of it that way," Sachi urged. "Think of it as letting go."

Zanya dared a single touch—a fingertip she traced over Sachi's flushed cheek and down to the adorable point of her chin. Gently, so gently, she used that fingertip to lift Sachi's gaze to hers. "Is that what you want? Do you want to make me let go?"

"I want you to stop thinking so much," she answered in a yearning whisper. "You don't have to give up your control, just ... stop clinging to it so damn hard for a little while."

Zanya could deny Sachi nothing when she turned those wistful blue eyes on her. The arms of the chair might be dented and wobbling now, but the back was as plush as the seat. Zanya relaxed into it and scraped her fingernails lightly over Sachi's scalp. "You know what pleases me, love. Be sweet for me."

Her reward was a brilliant smile as Sachi surged up to kiss her. For an endless moment, that was enough—the joy of getting to simply kiss Sachi openly and without fear. She could take her time enjoying the taste of her, including the hints of ginger and lemon from her tea, and the soft noises she made when Zanya licked past her lips to tangle their tongues.

Sachi was the one who broke away first, sinking back down to her knees. Her fingertips trailed up Zanya's calf, followed by the soft brush of her hair. Then more kisses—Sachi's open lips pressing to the sensitive spot just inside her knee. A graze of teeth. Her tongue, teasing its way up Zanya's inner thigh as Sachi's fingers stroked her hips, the curve of her waist, her outer thigh, her knee ...

A slow burn so exquisite, Zanya felt her head tip back. She wished she could thread her fingers back into Sachi's golden hair, but the only things she dared to grip were the much-abused wooden arms of the chair. "Is this what you call sweet? I would call this teasing me."

Sachi only glanced up at her, a wicked gleam in those blue eyes, and licked higher. Familiar fingers danced their way over her hip, moving lower. Zanya's breath sped, her body tense with anticipation as the two meandering paths converged on a single target.

When they reached it, Zanya gasped. Knowing fingertips stroked her. Parted her. Left her exposed for the hot touch of Sachi's tongue. The pleasure of it bloomed bright and so hot her hips jerked up in spite of her attempts to stay still. Sachi only hummed in satisfaction and pressed her against the chair before licking her again and again, each knowing stroke a silent demand that Zanya's body answered eagerly.

Heat flooded her limbs. Tension braided itself tighter within her, until even Sachi's firm touch couldn't still the restless movement of her hips searching for the pressure that would release the gathered need and let her soar.

But Sachi didn't give it to her. Instead, she slowed her caresses. Her mouth drifted lower, licking through her folds, her tongue driving deep, as if to savor the arousal she'd sparked. Zanya groaned her frustration—a groan that twisted into a sharp cry when Sachi stroked her free hand up to pinch one tight nipple.

The nip of almost-pain shot straight to her core, tangling with the languid pleasure there. Her fingers spasmed, and another sharp crack came from the left arm of the chair as it started to list sideways. "Sachi—"

"Let go," came the soft plea, and Zanya squeezed her eyes shut and shoved her fingers into her own hair, gripping it as clever fingers found her other nipple, and the harsh jolt left her squirming helplessly.

It shouldn't have been like this—so intense, so close to madness from just a few touches and the caress of Sachi's tongue. But when Zanya dared open her eyes, the sight was what shattered her.

Sachi, golden and glowing, backlit by the firelight in her barely there gown. Her cheeks were flushed with the pleasure of pleasing Zanya, her blue eyes bright with love. She captured Zanya's gaze and refused to let it go as she fucked two fingers slowly into her, the sound utterly obscene in the quiet, otherwise broken only by the crackle of the fire and Zanya's hoarse breaths. She was so wet the glide of them only taunted her with what she needed—more.

Of course Sachi knew. Her tongue swept out again, rough and swift over Zanya's clit. And then there were three fingers filling her, and it was too late for slow. Sachi fucked her, twisting deep, timing each advance to coincide with a flutter of her tongue that had Zanya's pulse racing out of control.

This time, she didn't slow. That braided tension twined tighter and tighter until Zanya thought she'd die of it. Her right hand clenched tight. Wood cracked in the distance. She didn't know what it was. Only that Sachi's golden hair was finally, finally beneath her fingertips. She wrapped her fingers in that silken glory and savored Sachi's moan as pleasure twirled higher and higher, as her fingers curled tighter and tighter—

Sense came to her at the same time as release, her orgasm riding a wave of bright, terrible panic. Shadows exploded with the force of her body's tremors, wrapping her in their embrace, and she had no conscious thought left except one.

Protect Sachi. Protect—

Zanya landed naked on cold stone, the shock of it overwhelming with her body still shuddering through release. Disoriented and reeling, she forced her trembling limbs to obey her, rolling onto her side and then her knees as her gaze swept the unfamiliar surroundings.

A burning hearth. Rough-hewn walls. Vast darkness. A comfortable-looking leather chair large enough to seat two people ...

. . . or one dragon god.

Ash started to his feet, tossing aside his book as panic filled his eyes. "What is it? Is Sachi—?"

He cut off with a sharp inhalation, and humiliation burned through Zanya when he abruptly turned away. She already knew how sharply he could smell Sachi's arousal. With the last shivers of orgasm still rocking through her, Zanya must have reeked of sex and need. No doubt her full flush and disheveled hair told the entire story.

She'd never been self-conscious about her body before, but this sort of nakedness was enough to make her wish for oblivion.

A warm weight fell over her back. A robe, the soft fabric smelling strongly of Ash, and she scrambled to shove her arms into the sleeves and fasten it around her. Only then could she force herself to take slow breaths as she climbed to her feet.

Facing him made her face burn all over again. But there was only gentle concern in his gaze as he perched on the arm of the chair. "Is everything all right?"

She didn't know how to answer. Now, instead of dying of humiliation, she felt as if she'd been caught doing something illicit. They'd never really discussed the boundaries of ... whatever this thing was. His assurances that he would not be threatened by Zanya's prior claim might hold when he was enjoying the intimacy of his consort's bed ...

But no one had been getting much intimacy lately, mostly because of Zanya. "I'm sorry," she whispered awkwardly. "I wasn't—I wasn't trying to leave you out."

"I didn't imagine you were." He rose and took a step toward her, but froze when Zanya stumbled back. Retreat was against everything in her nature, but she felt too off-balance, too raw to push a challenge like this. His robe might cover her from chin to ankles, but she still felt naked.

Ash sighed softly. "She is your lover, Zanya. You do not need my permission to enjoy each other. My only concern is if ..."

Zanya wet her lips. "If?"

He shook his head. "You look exhausted. And Sachi must be worried. Go back to her, and we'll discuss it another time."

Pulling the robe more tightly around her body, Zanya shook her head. "Sometimes I don't understand you at all."

A tiny smile quirked his lips. "I find you equally perplexing. That is why we'll talk. Later. I'll sleep in my bed tonight."

"No."

"No?"

Zanya found her pride and stepped forward, staring up into his face. "Sachi sleeps better when you're near. Give me a moment to talk to her, but come to bed with us. Please."

The Dragon watched her with those ancient brown eyes for a long time before lifting one hand. He moved slowly, as if afraid she'd shy away. When she didn't, he used one fingertip to catch a stray lock of hair that had tangled in the collar of the robe and smoothed it back behind her ear. "As you wish, Zanya."

Her body was still too sensitive to tolerate the touch. It prickled over her skin in dangerous temptation. She could have simply turned and left his quarters and endured the walk back across the stone bridge to Sachi's tower, but she wanted to be gone . The shadows twirled around her, and she took the step into the Void, pausing there a moment in the peaceful, floating darkness, where no one could see her cheeks flame.

With mortification? With desire? She still wasn't sure. But a few deep breaths in the familiar emptiness restored her equilibrium enough for her to step back into Sachi's quarters with her expression under control.

She found Sachi curled up in her massive bed, a lamp still shining on the bedside table and a large book open in her lap. Just like Ash, another thing the two shared in common. Insecurity tried to rear its head again, but Zanya stamped it down and offered Sachi a nervous smile. "I'm sorry? But I'm back."

Sachi's answering smile was gentle, soothing. "Where did you go this time?"

In response, Zanya gestured to the robe. She was a tall woman, but it had been tailored for Ash and was correspondingly massive. The sleeves covered her fingertips, and the hem almost dragged the floor. "Ash was reading, too. I startled him."

"I imagine so." Sachi tugged the heavy covers back and nodded to the middle of the massive bed. "Do you want to talk about it or get some sleep?" The corner of her mouth kicked up in a sudden, wicked grin. "Or try again?"

"With my luck, if we try again I'll end up in the middle of the market square. Or in Castle Roquebarre's throne room." Her usual nighttime attire was laid out on a padded bench near the bed, no doubt left there by quietly competent maids attending all the tasks Zanya used to do.

She shrugged out of Ash's robe and pulled on the loose pants and sleeveless top. Then she climbed into the bed and knelt facing Sachi. "We do need to talk."

"All right." Sachi closed her book and set it aside.

"I'm learning," Zanya said haltingly. "Ulric and Elevia aren't going to go easy on me, but maybe that's what I need. I used to know my body and my strength. I trusted myself. I need to learn how to trust myself again."

"So you'd like to be celibate for the time being?"

"No, it's not—" She cut off the panicked denial and forced herself to take a breath. There was no judgment in Sachi's loving expression. No disappointment. It made it easier to whisper the vulnerable truth. "I want to try, but I need for it to be okay if it takes time. If I keep messing up."

"Take as long as you need." Sachi grasped her hand, squeezed it. "Ash and I can wait."

Anxiety squeezed her chest tighter. "No, that's what I don't want. It's too much pressure, Sachi. If you want to bed him, you should. You don't have to wait for me."

For what seemed an eternity, Sachi just looked at her, her searching blue gaze roving over Zanya's face. Then, finally, "All right. I understand."

Relief eased the pressure inside her, and Zanya managed a shaky smile. "I would ask if I should do the same if the situation arose, but I'm not brave enough to face the Dragon on my own."

"He would gladly take you." Sachi's voice was tender and serious, skating right past the half-joke. "And I would be glad to know that you felt cherished and safe, as I do."

The words stirred a different sort of ache, a quiet yearning that had nothing to do with feeling cherished and everything with knowing that the violence inside her could meet its match in the Dragon. With him, she didn't want to feel safe. She didn't need to—because the Dragon could handle it if she let go of everything .

Of course, she'd have a hard time fucking him if she kept vanishing every time he touched her.

"We'll see." Zanya relaxed back onto the bed and pulled Sachi with her. "I may be worrying for nothing. A solid week of Elevia and Ulric making me transport people and supplies and gods and horses back and forth across the Sheltered Lands, and I'll either have perfect control of my powers or I'll be too tired to vanish and you can have your wicked way with me regardless."

Sachi giggled. "Scandalous."

"Not unless I bring you with me the next time I'm coming on your tongue." Zanya buried her laugh in Sachi's golden hair. "Imagine all the places we could have arrived. Though given the unpleasant day Aleksi had while traveling with me, appearing in his courtyard might have given him a treat."

"Or we could have wound up on Camlia's desk, crushing all her very important correspondence."

"While I'm sure she would take it in stride," Ash's voice rumbled from the balcony, "she would certainly find a way to blame me for upsetting the order of her castle."

Sachi sighed. "Entering the room without explicit permission is far less rude than eavesdropping, my lord. Please do come in ."

Zanya turned to find Ash strolling into the room. He closed the door and pulled the thick curtains that kept out the late-winter chill before crossing to the bed. His gaze caught Zanya's, one brow raised in silent question.

She was in Sachi's normal spot in the middle of the bed. Usually they curled up on either side of her, two protective monsters guarding their love—but if she moved now, it would feel too much like a rejection. So she tugged the blankets back on her side in equally silent response.

The mattress dipped under his weight. Ash propped himself up on one arm and leaned over Zanya to brush a kiss to Sachi's lips before lying down, his body a line of fire not quite touching Zanya.

Sachi lowered the lamp. The fire was still blazing merrily, and she settled down in the sharp shadows cast by its flames, a contented smile curving her lips. "Good night."

"Good night," Ash murmured from her other side, and the solid weight of his arm settled across Zanya's body. In the soft firelight she could see his fingers splayed possessively over Sachi's hip. She heard Sachi's soft sigh of contentment. Their warmth cradled her, contained her ... surrounded her.

But they were still three pieces that didn't quite fit. How could they? Zanya herself was in pieces, and she hadn't quite figured out how to put all her sharp edges back together yet. She could only hope that training with Ulric and Elevia would help.

Zanya might not have much practice in dreaming for the future, but she knew this was where she wanted to belong.