Adrian's head lay on my belly, his fingers spread over me in blatant possession, sadness and regret covering us like a soft blanket of melancholy.

You're not going to die, I said firmly into his head, gently sweeping his hair off his brow. I know you are rattled by the things that Christian told us on the ride here, but it's no longer just you against Saer and his army, Adrian. I'm here, and Christian is willing to help us, too. He's not nearly as bad as I thought he was, and I have to admit he's got a lot of strength. I doubt that many other vamps could have stood you throttling them and not had a permanent kink in their necks.

His lips pressed a sweet kiss to my belly. I would have liked to see our children, Hasi.

Tears snaked down the sides of my face as his sorrow filled me. I slid down, pushing him on his back, angrily brushing away the tears as I crawled off the bed. "I refuse to give up, and you know what? I'm damned tired of you giving in so easily. We are Joined. We're a family—you, Damian, and me. And I do not let my family sacrifice themselves, so you can just stop telling yourself that the only way to save Damian and me is to hand yourself over to Saer."

He looked startled for a moment. Clearly he had thought his intentions were hidden from me, but in that, he'd underestimated me. "Hasi—"

"No!" I said, grabbing his duster, slipping into it and buttoning it down to my knees. "There is no excuse. We're going to see this through, all of us. And when it's finished, you're going to be apologizing for doubting me for a very, very long time." I marched to the door.

Adrian propped himself up on an elbow, the air filled with his mingled outrage and confusion. "Where are you going?"

"To see if Allie will lend me something. Stay right there. I'll be back in a minute."

"What—" he started to say, but I closed the door on his question. He read me better than I read him; he could just trust me.

Ten minutes later I returned with a warm bowl, a small pastry brush, and a renewed sense of purpose. Adrian was still lying on the bed, naked, his arms behind his head as he glared up at the ceiling.

"That was more than a minute," he pointed out as I shucked his duster. "That was exactly eleven and three-quarter minutes. What were you doing?"

"Dancing the cancan with the mummies and Christian." I nudged his hip with my knee. He gave me a sour look, but scooted over to the middle of the bed. I couldn't help noticing that he was no longer aroused. I smiled to myself. That wasn't going to be a problem.

"What do you have?" he asked, suspicion lightening his eyes until they were the color of a rain-washed morning sky. He sniffed. "Chocolate?"

"Yes, chocolate," I answered, stirring the melted chocolate with the brush. "Milk chocolate, to be exact, since I don't like semisweet."

His brows pulled together. "I do not like chocolate."

I swirled the brush around the silky brown confection. "Have you ever tried it?"

"You know I do not eat." I fought to keep from smiling at his petulant tone.

"If you haven't tried it, you can't say you don't like it." I lifted the brush and allowed it to drizzle a few drops of melted chocolate onto his belly. His breath sucked in as I lowered my head to lick up the chocolate, my tongue chasing all the little chocolate splatters. His muscles contracted with each dab of my tongue until he was stiff as a board.

Everywhere.

"See? You do like chocolate," I purred, stirring the brush in the chocolate again.

His eyes widened as I painted a chocolate protection ward over his heart. The ward, despite being drawn with melted chocolate and a pastry brush, glowed gold for a moment before fading into a lovely swirl of chocolate. Adrian twitched.

"Something the matter?" I asked as I leaned over his chest, my tongue flicking at the beginning of the ward.

"It… burns."

I sat back, concerned for a second that I'd inadvertently harmed him. Using the cloth that had cradled the warm bowl, I wiped off the chocolate ward, worried that what I had intended as an erotic experience might have turned pleasure into pain. With the chocolate gone, I could see a faint red mark where the ward had lain on his skin. As I watched, the redness faded to nothing. "I'm so sorry, Adrian. The chocolate isn't that hot. I tested it on my wrist first. I didn't think it was anything but pleasantly warm—"

"Do it again," he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes almost black.

"But if it's burning you—"

It's a good burn. Do it again, Hasi. Feel what I feel.

My worry dissipated at his command. Obediently I merged into his mind, feeling his reaction as I stirred the chocolate, painting another ward on his sternum. His body clenched as the warm chocolate touched his flesh, but it was the act of tracing the ward that left a little tingle on his skin. He was right. It was a good burn. It was just hot enough that it left his skin sensitive, but not so hot that it hurt. I smiled my most wicked smile, and lolled across him to retrace the ward with my tongue.

He bucked beneath me, an erotic pleasure skittering between us as the protection ward sizzled to life. Hasi, if you knew what you do to me…

What makes you think I don't know? I asked, painting another ward on his hipbone, sucking it off as soon as it glowed gold. Next to my head, his arousal was standing at attention, all hard unabashed maleness. I sucked the last bit of chocolate from his hip, turning my head to consider it. I'm thinking I need to ward Vlad the Impaler here.

His eyebrows rose as I got to my knees, stirring the brush in the cooling chocolate. It has never been at risk before. What exactly do you intend that you must draw a protection ward on that part of me?

I leaned forward and dragged my tongue along the sensitive underside. Adrian almost rose off the bed. Who said anything about a protection ward? Allie showed me something while the chocolate was melting. I'm going to ward this puppy for stamina.

Adrian groaned as I painted the strength symbols on his penis, his hands clutching the bedspread convulsively as the soft brush swirled around his shaft, curling around the head before swooping back down to the base. Admittedly, it was an overly elaborate version of a strength ward, but the rapturous anticipation that Adrian felt with each stroke of the brush made it worth a little extra effort.

"Is it burning?" I asked as I set the bowl and brush down, glancing up to his face.

His eyes had rolled back in his head.

"Yes," he said in a half groan, half gasp.

"Good." I nudged his knees aside and crawled between his legs, looking with no little pride at his chocolate-covered arousal. Warded as it was, it could probably bring down a few trees should Adrian wish to put it to that use.

I, however, had other plans for him.

His hips shot up as my tongue began to trace the ward, his fingers tangling in my hair as I moved up and down, around and around, retracing the ward's elaborately detailed design. By the time I reached the end of the ward, his body was as tightly strung as I had been in the museum, his jaw clenched with strain. I dipped into his mind and felt the enormous restraint he'd clamped down on the surge of need and want and desire that filled him, just so that I'd be able to complete my love play. His body and mind told me what I'd suspected—the flicks of my tongue had fired him to the point of spontaneous combustion, but it hadn't satisfied his true need.

"Dessert was fun, but now I'm hungry for the main course," I whispered as I straddled his hips, guiding his now slick length to where my body was crying for him, mentally querying him as to whether he was ready.

"Christus, Hasi, yes! Take me inside you now!"