“Sort of,” he said. “My dad had sticks, and a kind of harness…”
“I have those, too. This is different. Sit down, and I’ll show you.”
Micah still had his book under his arm as he sat next to Viv on the bench. “Is it magic?”
“I don’t weave all my spells,” Viv said. “It’s nice to have another way, sometimes, to make something. Here, watch.”
Micah hunched over his lap, watching her move the shuttle and pull the threads through the pattern. “I know what you mean. I make things, too. At home. Toys and… I don’t know what to call them. Creations, I guess. They don’t do anything. They’re just there to be…”
“Appreciated?” Viv glanced at him sidelong, and Micah blushed. “There’s nothing wrong with making something that gives people joy.”
“But if it doesn’t have a purpose… maybe the fire was retribution. Maybe it means something.”
“Maybe it was an accident, and bad things happen without a reason.” Viv didn’t mean to snap, but the words came out harsh anyway, her dominance heavy in the air.
Micah raised his brows. “I know that. There wasn’t a reason for my parents to die when they did, either. I know things can just happen.”
Viv stopped weaving and turned to him. “I’m trying toencourageyou.”
“Oh.” Micah smiled, and his wan, surly expression shifted, making him look even younger. “You’re not very good at it.”
“No. Apparently.”
“Neither am I.”
Viv got back to work. “Then why don’t we just tell each other what we think instead of tiptoeing around it?”
“I can do that.”
“Good. I think you’re too skinny and you need to take better care of yourself.”
“And I think you’re trying to be rude to hide how nice you are.”
They looked at each other for a moment, and Micah’s face creased in another brilliant smile.
“Give me a few years, and I might like you, Micah,” Viv said.
“Yeah,” Micah said, blushing red as the sun. “Me, too.”
ChapterThree
There was a sound in the walls.
Sasha blinked, staring into the dark of his bedroom. Viv was asleep on top of him, as usual, using him for his body heat—which was just fine with him. She made a noise and pressed her face into his neck, much as Aksa had done to Micah.
The noise came again. It sounded like… something was scratching.
Frowning, he rubbed his hands up and down Viv’s back. She was wrapped up in the quilt and sleeping in one of his shirts, so he couldn’t touch her soft skin, but he loved how she felt on top of him even if she wasn’t naked. Smiling, he smoothed a hand over her hair and felt her warm breath as she shifted closer.
She always was cuddliest when she was sleeping, his Viv.
Sasha closed his eyes again, but he heard the noise almost immediately: scratch-scratch, a shuffle, like there were creatures trying to creep around very quietly.
Or.
Like a slight, twitchy dom was trying toleave.
Sasha gently moved Viv off him—she grumbled but rolled into the blanket Sasha had kicked off and eventually settled again—and got to his feet. He wasn’t quiet, or all that fast, but he had the advantage of knowing his house well enough to move around in the dark. He ducked against the wall to stay in the shadows, passed the bathing room and Viv’s lair, and saw a figure moving toward the door.
