Author's Note 11/9/19: Finally managed to get chapters 5-7 revised. It took way longer than I expected, but it'll be well worth your time to re-read these now that I've added new material and updated some of the original sections.

1/Terreille

Alex guessed he ought to check on Lilith. After their final game of Cradle yesterday, he'd been so annoyed with Lilith- and with himself- for losing that he'd had to get away from her for a while. He'd been sure that he'd win, and it had shaken him how badly disappointed he'd been when he hadn't. Well, whatever mood had been riding him then hadn't cleared yet, but Alex knew he ought to at least see how she was holding up.

Having spent the whole morning and the better part of the evening- not to mention the afternoon between- in his suite, he figured it had been almost a day and a half since Meredith had dosed her with the safframate. The worst should be over now that the drug's effects peaked and were beginning to taper off. Maybe he could stand being around her if he didn't have to see her in so much pain. Alex opened his bedroom door and listened cautiously for sounds in the main suite.

Deathly silence greeted him.

Uneasy that he didn't hear her pacing, Alex emerged into the hallway. Maybe Lilith had fallen asleep. For her sake, he hoped that was true. At least sleep could buy her a few hours' relief. He'd almost convinced himself that he'd worried over nothing as his footsteps carried him into the other room. But when he got there, Alex stopped dead. Lilith had collapsed to her knees, piles of shredded something lying scattered around her- some of them smeared with blood. He paled when he realized what they were.

Her dress. She's torn it completely apart.

He advanced slowly into the room. Lilith didn't notice, her eyes fixed on the window while her hands clasped what looked like a sleeve. He watched as her shoulders trembled with the effort of ripping apart the fabric. She lost her grip, and he realized where the blood had come from. The dress wasn't all she'd torn up.

Mother Night, what did she do to herself?

More to the point- what had he allowed her to do? Alex berated himself for having sulked in his room as long as he had. He was equally- or more- to blame for her current condition. He knew what the safframate was capable of doing. Now he could be too late to stop it. Cautiously, Alex knelt down in front of her.

Tears slid down her cheeks, but Lilith still didn't make a sound. Not good. Nor was her slightly unfocused, inward stare. Alex tried to ignore the knife-edge of fear in his gut, and reached for the ragged scrap of fabric in her hands. Lilith flinched away from him, but he still wasn't sure she actually knew he was there. He cleared the lump in his throat and tried to talk around it.

"Lilith, let go of the dress. You're hurt."

She shook her head, whispering hoarsely, "Everything hurts."

"I know, but this won't stop it."

When she tried to struggle to her feet, Alex held her in place. Doubtful she would have succeeded, but she was clearly in no condition to start pacing again. Lilith tugged out of his grasp and tunneled her fingers through her hair. They closed into fists as she began to pull them away from her head. Terrified that she'd try to rip it out by the roots, Alex reached for her hands and lowered them to her lap.

My fault. She's so close to breaking, and it'll be all my fault.

"Lilith, look at me," he insisted. "I know how bad it is, but you have to fight it. I promise I'll help."

"I…" her voice broke into a wracking sob. "I can't do this anymore!"

Lilith jerked like a puppet cut from its strings and collapsed into him. Alex could only sit there, stroking her hair as she cried. No words could fix this. Just as well, since he wasn't sure he was capable of speaking. His thoughts, however, had plenty to say.

He started by damning Meredith and her Black Widow bitch, Valinna. They'd played out this petty game and were responsible for everything Lilith had suffered these past two days. And then he damned himself for not having done a better job of taking care of her. This had not been much of a rescue, in his opinion. So he'd prevented Grael from raping her. What good was that victory if she still came out of this with a shattered mind?

Eventually, Lilith's tears dissolved into watery breaths. In time, even those steadied as she attempted to pack away whatever had broken loose. Alex wasn't sure what to say in the silence that stretched between them. When she pulled back again, he could see she was having a similar problem.

"Can we pretend that didn't happen," she asked finally.

Well, that was a good sign that maybe she wasn't quite as fragile as he thought. The question certainly sounded like something a sane person would ask. Well, maybe not entirely sane, but definitely not the question of someone lost in the Twisted Kingdom.

"You can pretend it didn't, but we both know it did."

"I mean not make a big deal out of it."

Alex turned her hands palms upward and created a ball of witchlight. The welts crisscrossing them were hideous, some still bleeding. Then he gestured to the remnants of her dress and told her, "Not a big deal, you say. I'd consider this a big deal."

"I just needed something to do as a way to distract from-"

"I know what you were doing," he cut her off. "If I hadn't come out here, do you have any idea what you would have turned on next? I can tell you it wouldn't have been another dress. You'd have turned on yourself, Lilith."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do."

"You can't possibly-"

"I do know because I've done it," he roared at her, too angry to keep a leash on his temper.

Lilith lapsed into startled silence. Alex futilely wished those words back again. Telling her that he'd been dosed with safframate was one thing, but admitting that he'd crossed that particular line was something better left unsaid. To anyone. He certainly didn't want to remember the nights Meredith drugged and caged him in his suite. Punishment for not submitting as they wanted, of course.

He'd paced, cried, and ripped the place apart. And when that didn't work, he'd used physical pain to numb himself to the drug. Thank the Darkness he'd known enough healing Craft to fix the damage, but it didn't erase the internal scars that still haunted him. Scars that were now apparent to Lilith.

"Well, I guess that about makes us even, then," she mused.

"Even?"

"I get to be embarrassed that I cried all over you, and you can feel uncomfortable that you said more than you'd care to admit about living in Draega. Even."

Feeling a little too raw to laugh, Alex could only shake his head in bemusement at her logic. "If you say so."

Of course, all levity faded when he saw her palms again. They needed attention soon or they'd become infected. Alex knew he could do it, but he wasn't sure he ought to test how closely Meredith was monitoring his Ring. She might expect and ignore certain kinds of Craft, but healing Craft would alert her that something wasn't going as she expected. Lilith wasn't in any shape to make an escape from here if their ruse were to be discovered now.

"Lilith, about your hands…"

She glanced down at them and grumbled, "Yeah, I suppose I ought to see to them."

"Can you fix it?"

"Yes." She glanced around the suite. "Do you have a bowl and some hot water?"

"I can get some."

2/Terreille

DeSade stood and left the room- presumably to find the things she'd asked for. While he was gone, Lilith vanished the dress and had called in a few vials. Special brews that she prepared in advance of coming to Terreille, but never ones she'd had to use on herself. At least not before tonight. Lilith was contemplating how she'd come to that particular crossroads when the Prince returned carrying a bowl of lukewarm water.

"I see you cleaned house while I was gone."

She shrugged as she focused her attention on the bowl he set before her, avoiding the question in his expression. Really, she didn't want to look at him at all, too embarrassed that DeSade had caught her at a particularly weak moment and she'd cried in front of him. Lilith couldn't remember the last time anyone had seen her cry, much less witnessed the kind of pain he'd likely seen.

Lilith took some comfort that she wasn't the only one to reveal a mortifying secret. She'd seen the look on DeSade's face when he'd realized what he'd shouted at her. His words painted an all too vivid picture of what kind of torture Meredith had put him through. Lilith was enduring it just this once; he'd endured it for centuries. She could only imagine the kind of soul pain that left in him. It had been very obvious that he'd wished he hadn't revealed even a part of it to her.

Move on and don't dwell on it. He won't want to discuss any of that any more than you want to discuss the scars you bear.

"I made the mess; I ought to get rid of it," she stated indifferently.

"I see."

Lilith poured one of the vials into the bowl and waited until the water had turned milky. As steam rose into the air, she poured in the second one. Knowing what was to come next, she sucked in a breath and immersed both hands in the solution. It was every bit as painful as she expected. That indrawn breath left Lilith somewhere halfway between a curse and a prayer. DeSade heard it, and felt the need to comment.

"That's hurting you," he said. It wasn't a question.

"It's my own fault," she replied through her teeth. "It's a reminder not to do stupid things like this again that make me need to heal something this fast."

And fast it most certainly was. Lilith removed her hands from the bowl, turning them over to examine the results. They were whole- no sign of the welts from earlier. The injury was still healing beneath the surface, and would continue to do so over the next few weeks. But for now, the tissues were at least knit back together to prevent infection. She could tell from his incredulous stare that DeSade had never seen a healing like this done before.

"Amazing."

"Yeah, but it hurts like a wicked bitch, so I try not to need to use that method too often." She gestured to the bowl. "I'm through with that, if you wanted to dump the water out. Be very careful not to touch any of it and rinse out the sink."

"Why?"

"Let's just say that solution is not meant to touch healthy flesh and leave it at that."

He didn't question what must have sounded like an ominous statement. Lilith just hoped that the Prince would heed her warning as he disposed of the contents of the bowl. Judging by how gingerly he held it around the base, it looked as though he had taken her at her word. While he disappeared down the hallway again, Lilith got up from the floor to sit on the couch. She was poking at her hands when he returned to the main room.

DeSade sat next to her. He said nothing for a minute or two, seeming to debate against himself about where to take the conversation next. Lilith was afraid that she knew what he wanted to bring up. The safframate. Although the worst of it had passed, she wasn't out of danger. Far from it. Exhausted, and having already strayed too close to breaking once, another spasm might actually tip her over the edge.

If she was thinking along those lines, Lilith knew he would be, too. And no sooner had she completed that thought, his next words proved her right.

"Lilith, we need to talk. I think you really need to reconsider my offer."

"Your promise…"

"I'm breaking it. That was too close, and we both know that the safframate isn't done yet."

"There has to be some other choice," she hedged, not wanting to admit that her options were limited.

The Prince must have sensed the opportunity to change her mind. He pressed on with his argument.

"Think about it, Lilith. There are only two options to ride this out- violence or sex. You've already tried violence and I don't think you enjoyed it very much."

"What makes you think I'd enjoy sex any better," she muttered.

He did not answer her question. In fact, caught himself before giving one. Lilith wondered what he might have said, but just then, another spasm swept through her body. Involuntarily, her hands clenched the cushion with a fierce grip. DeSade didn't miss any of it.

"It's the safframate again- isn't it?"

Lilith's eyes closed in defeat. "Yes."

"Pacing and waiting it out isn't going to work. You know that, right?"

She did, but, "I just- can't."

"You heard me before, Lilith, and I meant it. I know things that would help but wouldn't cross that line."

Lilith didn't doubt that. Her mind conjured a vivid picture of what the Prince might do, and she had to fight the telltale flush in her cheeks. Mother Night, she couldn't let him convince her to go along with it. Had to find an alternative. Any alternative. But before she could offer one, DeSade had leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. A wholly unfair tactic, as he undoubtedly knew. The kiss only lasted a few minutes. Long enough, though, that when DeSade withdrew, Lilith knew the decision was a foregone one. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at him, expression haunted.

"You're not going to stop, are you? If I say no now, you'll be back again and again. Until I say yes."

He nodded. "I'll be back."

She closed her eyes and turned away. "I'm so tired. Tired of fighting me." She waved a hand in his direction. "Tired of fighting you. Tired of fighting this damned drug that's trying to rip me apart."

"You don't have to fight it. Let me help."

"Prince, I…"

"Alex," he interrupted her.

"What?"

"My name is Alex." He reached out to bring her gaze back to him. "You should use it."

Lilith opened her mouth as if to speak and then closed it again. Her brows knitted together with worry as she finally found enough of her voice to answer him.

"Alex…I'm not sure I can do this. Any of this."

"Trust me."

The words were spoken earnestly. Lilith wondered if he'd ever asked a witch to trust him before, and suspected not. A few seconds passed between them before Alex must have realized the significance of having uttered them. She thought she might have seen a flash of apprehension in his eyes. A different sort of apprehension coursed through Lilith. And yet it didn't stop her from nodding her assent. Alex didn't question it, putting her hand in his and leading her to his bedroom.

What have you done?

This wasn't supposed to happen, and she'd done everything she could to try to prevent it. Lilith never wanted him to feel like he had to do this- to do the 'right thing' when she knew he'd rather not. Who could blame him? He'd been brutally tortured by witches his whole life. Reason enough that he'd never want to take a witch to bed; reason enough not to make that demand of him.

Reason enough to almost break your mind and end up in the Twisted Kingdom?

I knew what I was doing.

Lilith knew several opinionated males back home who would not have agreed, and was grateful to have been spared their lectures if she had lost control. On the other hand, she wasn't exactly looking forward to admitting that she'd unnecessarily contributed to the damage already inflicted on Alex, either. It was a no-win situation, no matter what she did.

I know what I'm not going to do, she swore to herself. We're not going to have sex. I won't have that on my conscience.

As it was, she had enough weighing on it. Just by being here and agreeing to do this, she was breaking long-standing oaths. Serious oaths. Ones she'd made to avoid repeating past mistakes and keep herself- not to mention the rest of the Blood- protected. And while she might not be walking the same path as she had then, the wrong move could prove far more catastrophic.

Lilith considered the risks of making an escape. It had been too dangerous before when the strength of the drug was waxing, but now that it had lessened, maybe she could survive out there. But something told her that if she ran now, the opportunity to finish what she came to Draega to do would be lost. Forever.

She was trapped. Hopelessly trapped.

3/Terreille

Bethaeny hadn't left her suite since Meredith's 'demonstration' to the coven. She'd even avoided going to the dining room for meals having those served here instead. Aside from the servants who'd brought them to her door, the only other person she'd seen in in the last day had been Ettia. Her cousin had come back to check on her around noon. But as for the rest of the coven, she hadn't heard from any of them. Not even Chenoa or Kirsten.

After what happened yesterday, can you really blame them?

No, she didn't. She couldn't blame any of them for choosing a path of self-preservation. Leaving their rooms came with it the risk of encountering a warlord, who may or may not be subdued by a controlling ring. Few would be likely to take that chance. And even if they were, they certainly weren't going to risk becoming Meredith's next target on her account. Not when they all knew she was on borrowed time with the Queen.

More like it's already run out.

Bethaeny sighed heavily and flopped over onto her stomach, tucking an oversized pillow under her chin. Ettia would lecture her for not acting like an adult. Always so prim and proper- even when they were young. But Ettia wasn't here, so she could do as she pleased.

What's so great about acting like an adult, anyway?

In the century since Bethaeny had made her Offering, she hadn't been overly impressed with this thing called 'adulthood'. Especially when it came to the responsibilities and expectations that came with it. Not just from her cousin, but Meredith and Valinna- even her own mother. Her family obligations were annoying at times, but she could handle them; pressures from the Queen, though, were another matter.

Meredith frightened her. Always had. She'd been nothing like the Queen who ruled her home village. Her mother had tried to tell her that things would be different in Draega, but Bethaeny hadn't been quite prepared for how much different. Nothing could have prepared her against the shock of those first few weeks, when she'd been given an introduction to ideas and behaviors promoted within Meredith's court. Those had scared Bethaeny most of all.

Yesterday, for example. That whole business with the kitchen maid left Bethaeny horrified. Just as she'd been horrified to watch the Queen send other servant witches into Grael's clutches over petty offenses. True, this one had been caught stealing Rings, but allowing the Warlord to rape a witch struck her as an unjust punishment. Especially with the added torture of dosing her with safframate first. Why didn't Meredith just execute her? It was all the same in the end.

Is it, though?

The thief would be dead. A just punishment for the crime she committed. There was no need to take it that far.

Except that kind of thinking only worked in a world where rulers were truly cared about justice. Bethaeny knew from decades of experience that particular concept fell very low on Meredith's list of priorities. If it appeared at all. The 'demonstration' had more to do with instilling terror and obedience from the rest of the coven. Why else would she have brought them all in to watch?

And when the next witch annoys her, Meredith will call us all in again to watch the scene repeat itself. A dismal, but undeniable reality. Bethaeny just hoped when that next time came along, she would still be among the bystanders instead of the main attraction. That thought only added to her depressed mood. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

When she'd been young, she'd always heard that life in the courts of Draega was fun. Witches vising their village had talked about parties and entertainment to be found in the territory capital. They made it sound so glamorous. Far more enticing than life in a predominantly farming community. They might have two or three social events throughout the course of a single year. From the way the witches talked, they attended that many every week.

Lies, she thought resentfully. I had more of a social life back home than I do here.

Of course, parties had only been the half of it. In those tales, the witches gave lurid accounts of their adventures in the bedroom. Night after night of phenomenal sex with a variety of good-looking males who were all available for the taking. Whenever they wanted. Titillating stories that grabbed the attention of a witch who'd only begun yearning for her own Virgin Night.

Bethaeny had listened to them for hours on end, despite her mother's clear disapproval. Many nights, she'd lain awake in bed, fantasizing about all the pleasures she could expect when she finally got her chance to serve the Queen. She'd envisioned herself surrounded by handsome males all vying to be her bed partner, each promising her untold delight if she'd only pick him over the others. To hear them say she was beautiful and desired.

Hasn't quite been what you hoped it'd be, has it?

No. Not at all.

Oh the witches hadn't been completely dishonest. Meredith kept no less than a dozen blood males- sometimes more- at the hall. All of them for the taking whenever the coven wanted. Only none of the stories she'd heard had mentioned Rings of Obedience or safframate. Bethaeny had assumed the blood males wanted to serve; she hadn't found it all that pleasant to discover that they had to be forced. An opinion that she learned to hide very quickly.

Not just hide- suppress.

She'd had to learn how to use the tools and pretend it didn't bother her to see the pain and resentment they caused. After a few decades, Bethaeny really hadn't thought about whether or not it was wrong to dose a Warlord with safframate. Or whether or not she'd been justified in using a Ring to punish one who refused to obey her command. When she was sent out to villages like hers to recruit new members for the coven, she'd told ribald stories of her exploits to young, impressionable witches. Selling them the same illusion that she'd been sold so long ago. She'd learned not to let it bother her.

Until yesterday.

The 'demonstration' had dredged up all the questions Bethaeny had thought she'd killed well over a half century ago. She'd been up most of last night, thinking about what she'd been doing since arriving in Draega. Wondering what kind of witch she'd become in order to survive in Meredith's court. After nearly a day of thinking about it, she felt dissatisfied and somewhat disgusted with herself.

There's not much I can do about it. At least not if I want to keep surviving in this place.

And as Ettia so bluntly put it last night, time was against her in that regard. Just when she thought she'd finally made progress in impressing Meredith, it turned out she'd done the complete opposite. Committed the biggest blunder at the worst possible time. Bad enough that she'd been too stupid to see the Queen's offer for what it really was. Her ill-thought remark about the Prince left her feeling that much worse.

Ten to one she sends me to DeSade the minute he's finished with the servant witch. A prospect that no longer filled her with giddy anticipation. Just fear and dread. Feelings that were perfectly natural. After what happened to Candace, any witch should have had second thoughts about bedding the Prince. So why wasn't I wary when Meredith offered him to me?

Bethaeny knew what Ettia would say. She- and the rest of the coven- would chalk it up to naïveté. That she grew up in a farming community and was too dumb to figure out that Meredith was using her. Maybe she was. But then she thought back on what happened, looking for another explanation.

The meeting took place three days ago. Unusual that Meredith had summoned her to talk in private, but she didn't dare disobey. When she arrived at the salon, she'd only been half-surprised to see Valinna standing next to the Queen. Rarely did anyone see one without the other, and so she didn't think much of it at the time. Now Bethaeny wondered if Valinna had something to do with why she'd been so eager to accept loan of DeSade for an evening.

Wouldn't have been hard for her to use a compulsion spell.

Coming to that realization should have made her feel better, but it didn't. Her own mother was a Black Widow. She'd coached Bethaeny time and again about recognizing a compulsion spell before sending her to Draega. She should have sensed it.

To what end? It's not like you could have refused.

Good point. Just like Bethaeny couldn't refuse if the offer was made a second time- with or without the help of a compulsion spell. She hugged the pillow tightly and curled onto her side, trying not to cry. After all, she had no business feeling sorry for herself.

I'm only getting what I deserve.

4/Terreille

The trip down the hallway was over before she knew it. One step further and she found herself passing through the doorway to enter Alex's bedroom. It was dark, so he lit a few tapers of witchlight. The added light only made Lilith that much more aware of where she was. She cast a worried look around- particularly towards the bed. Alex turned her to face him and settled his hands at her waist.

"It'll be okay, Lilith. I told you- we're not going to cross any lines you can't handle. Believe me that I have experience enough to know what I'm doing."

Experience. You know how he got that experience, don't you?

Yes, Lilith answered with an involuntary flinch. You don't have to remind me.

"Lilith- what's the matter?"

Alex's puzzled expression drew her back into the present. He must have seen her reaction, and was now looking for an explanation. Unwilling to bring up what she expected would be a painful subject for him, Lilith tried to brush it off.

"Nothing."

"That's a lie and we both know it. Just tell me- whatever it is, I'm sure I can help."

"I appreciate the offer, Prince, but-"

"Alex," he reminded her.

She colored and took a breath. "That is going to be difficult to manage."

"In this room, I'm Alex. Out there," he gestured to the room beyond the door, "I'm Prince DeSade. But not in here, and definitely not tonight."

His declaration served only to emphasize the reason why they'd come in here, and Lilith's self-conscious flush deepened. She hadn't wanted to do this, but now that they were here, she hoped to get it over with before she died of embarrassment. Or before the safframate robbed her of any coherent thought and she let this go further than she'd already agreed. Another spasm danced along every nerve in her body. Her vision blurred from trying to concentrate on breathing.

"It's got you again, hasn't it," she heard him ask.

"Yeah, it does."

His hands returned to her waist as he leaned in to kiss her. Lilith felt awkward and shy, not really knowing what she was supposed to do. Didn't seem to stop him. Alex played his lips over hers like an expert musician at an instrument, encouraging her to follow his lead. No sooner had she let him tease her lips apart, Lilith gasped at the possessive sweep of his tongue over hers. And he wasn't done there, coaxing her into making forays of her own.

The kiss intensified. So much that a growl rumbled at the base of Lilith's throat. How'd she do that? A fleeting thought that came and went as another, more important question dawned on her: When had her shirt come undone? She had been so thoroughly distracted by the kiss that she hadn't noticed Alex working the row of ivory buttons holding it together. Now it hung partly open in front.

Mother Night, she wasn't wearing anything beneath it. Safframate or not, the thought that Alex could see her was unsettling. Lilith's hand immediately clutched at the edges to draw it closed again. She broke the kiss and tried to escape; Alex wouldn't let her.

"Lilith, you don't have to run."

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one standing here half naked."

Something flashed in his eyes, but was gone too quickly for her to know what it was. He raised an eyebrow at her while suggesting in a seductive whisper, "That could be arranged if you want."

Panic-driven adrenaline gave her the strength to break free of his embrace. Lilith's throat closed up with a nervous squeak and she resumed pacing. This was a mistake. She couldn't do this. It was madness to even think she could try.

"No, that's not what I had in mind!"

He didn't attempt to reach for her again, studying Lilith with a somewhat perplexed expression. As if at a loss how things had gone awry. She supposed it must be unusual for Alex. Women didn't typically refuse an invitation to see him strip naked. At length, he voiced his obvious bemusement at the predicament.

"Okay…obviously that was a bad idea."

"Is any of this a good idea? I don't think-"

"Just relax. You were doing fine a minute ago."

"Minute's over," she retorted sharply.

He finger-combed his hair and sighed, admitting, "I hadn't expected it to be so difficult- for either of us."

Difficult. A word that doused her like a bucket of cold water. Alex wasn't looking forward to performing this service for her, and here she was, making it even more difficult than it had to be. She clutched the shirt tighter and tried to avoid eye contact. Should have just stuck to the original plan and refused.

"Maybe we just forget the whole thing."

Alex said nothing that might indicate he disagreed with her. Suppressing feelings of humiliation, Lilith headed for the door in silence. She fumbled with the buttons that had come undone, not looking up. Which was how she nearly ran into Alex, who was blocking her escape to the hallway. Apparently, she'd assumed wrong. He hadn't changed his mind about doing this.

Lilith's fingers had stilled mid-button; Alex clasped her hands in his and drew them away gently. The edges of the shirt hung free once more, spreading ever so slightly with each breath she took. Heat flooded her cheeks and blood pounded in her ears. When one of his hands slipped inside to her waist, Lilith fought the instinct to back away.

Alex lifted his other hand to brush her hair over her shoulder. She watched, mesmerized, as he bent his head to kiss her neck. Lilith inhaled slowly through her nose as he lingered for several minutes in the hollow where her throat met her right collarbone. Fingertips traced her left cheek and then down to her shoulder. Lulled by the whispering caresses against her skin, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back.

The shirt had slipped low across her back, though she couldn't say when. Alex smoothed his hands over skin now laid bare. Every nuance of his touch was intoxicating, designed to melt her resistance. It worked so well that she almost didn't notice that the shirt was now a pool of silk at her feet. Almost.

Mother Night, I'm naked.

He was looking at her and she was naked. She blushed from the soles of her feet to the tips of her ears. And since Lilith couldn't bring herself to look at him, she looked past him at the wall and prayed that she really could die of embarrassment. A thought that must have been plain.

"Don't be self-conscious," he whispered close to her ear. "You don't have to worry about impressing me."

Meaning that he wasn't impressed. Lilith was sure he'd seen plenty of witches who would have, even if they were just using him. After all, she'd seen the witches in Meredith's coven. They might be cold-blooded bitches, but they were all very beautiful women. Lilith wasn't going to pretend that she could compete with them. Just be grateful that Alex didn't make a big deal about it. She closed her eyes to hide her thoughts and tried to keep her tone even.

"What should I worry about?"

He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek.

"Nothing."

One word shouldn't have the power to send a woman's pulse racing. But spoken in that deep, cultured voice, even that one seemingly innocent word was imbued with sexual undertones. She needed something to fight back. Needed to stay in control. A scathing retort hovered on the tip of her tongue, offering her a chance to regain her mental balance. Before she could let it loose, Alex stole it away again by kissing her.

His hand, meanwhile, trailed downward until it stroked the swell of her breast. A firestorm of sensation blossomed beneath his questing fingertips. Lilith shuddered with a mix of pain and pleasure and her knees nearly buckled, suddenly weak. She could blame all the standing and pacing, but she knew what was really responsible. A moot point, really.

If you don't do something soon, you're going to collapse. Lilith could think of only one option, though she was reluctant to take it. She didn't have much of a choice. And so she raised her arms with the intent to reach out to Alex for support. Halfway there, she hesitated. I can't.

Alex paused, breaking the kiss.

"Lilith?"

"Uh huh?"

"It's all right to touch me. I promise you'll be just fine."

Of course she'd be fine. What about him? How many other witches had touched him? Lilith really didn't want to add her name to the list of women Alex had to endure; it was bad enough she was making him touch her. She was still lecturing herself on all the reasons why she couldn't when Alex took her hands and placed them on his shoulders.

"There- nothing terrible happened. The world didn't end."

I guess not.