"Thank you," she managed. "For coming with me today." His warm breath on her neck made her shiver, and she instinctively tilted her head. His grip tightened around her, but he didn't bite her.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked in a husky tone. "About thanking you? Yes," she said.

"You know that's not what I mean," he growled. "In your dream, you said-- "

"I don't know, Rhyn. I've got a lot to figure out." "Fine. Then tell me you don't."

She sighed. She belonged here in his arms, and yet she feared what that meant. She'd lose her sister, her only family, and Rhyn hadn't yet proven he could keep her safe.

"You can't say it," he said, satisfaction in his voice. He turned her to face him, and she gazed up at him, once again awed by his size, heat, and intensity. His silver eyes were molten, his rugged jaw line shaded by two days' growth. His hands were hot on her hips and his body blocked the cold wind whipping up the cliff.

"Can you?" she challenged. "Don't need to."

"Rhyn-- "

"I've done almost everything you asked me to the past few weeks. I need a reward, before the demons in the forest attack us."

"Demons?" she echoed. Any fear she might have felt disappeared when he rested his hand on her neck and brushed her cheek, then her lips, with his thumb. Her blood was already on fire from their bodies being pressed together, and heat pooled in the base of her belly.

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"I watch them watch you," he said. "You draw them out on your runs, and I kill them. We're a good team."

"Until the day you're not there." Her words escaped before she thought to filter them. The sense of loss returned. Warmth passed through his gaze, and the skin around his eyes softened as he took in her expression.

"I win," he said. He withdrew, and the cold wind swept over her. She started after him, senses scattered.

"You didn't get your kiss," she objected, her blood humming with need and frustration. She followed him back to the trail. Her eyes swept over his muscular form, from his shapely shoulders and wide back to the thick thighs outlined by the sweats. He whipped out a curved knife from the small of his back and tossed it in the air, catching it easily.




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