He felt his body harden in exquisite anticipation.
Bloody hell. She was warm and soft and she tasted of sweet ambrosia.
One hand slid under her silken curtain of hair, gripping her nape in a gesture that was pure male possession while being careful not to bruise her ivory skin. Holding her so close, it was impossible to miss the fragile delicacy of her bones or the fact she weighed next to nothing.
Once again he was struck by that overriding need to care for her . . . to make sure she was protected.
Even from himself.
He allowed their tongues to tangle, briefly pressing her against his aching erection before he was easing back and allowing her feet to touch the floor.
She tilted back her head, her satin hair spilling over his arm with the stunning hues of a summer sunrise. Cyn’s gaze skimmed over her flushed face, lingering on her lips that were still swollen from his kisses before meeting her stunned gaze.
“You’re full of surprises, princess,” he husked, his hands sliding up the slender curves to halt just below the gentle thrust of her breasts.
She shuddered, the scent of her arousal spicing the air before she was abruptly jerking out of his grasp, her expression guarded.
“May I have my nectar?”
Cyn battled back his instinctive compulsion to pull her back into his arms, glancing down at the bags he’d dropped when he’d been overwhelmed by the need to touch Fallon.
Bloody hell, he was in trouble.
Big-ass-scary kind of trouble.
Baffled at how his life had been turned upside down so quickly, Cyn was on the point of full retreat when the sound of tiny bells had him grasping the hilt of his dagger that was holstered at his lower back.
“What’s that?”
With obvious relief at the distraction, Fallon was turning to hurry into the room across the hall.
“My magic has activated,” she said, moving to study the dozen bowls that had been arranged on the Persian carpet in the center of the floor.
Cyn halted near the doorway, studying the bowls with open suspicion. “Activated what?”
She turned to study his rigid posture. “Are you afraid of magic?”
Of course he was afraid. Magic was every vampire’s worst nightmare. Okay, not his worst nightmare.
That would be looking like chicken shit in front of a beautiful woman.
Which was why he was squaring his shoulders and forcing his reluctant feet to carry him toward the bowls that flickered with eerie images that were as creepy as hell.
“I fear nothing.”
Fallon smiled, not fooled for a second. “Such a big, bad vampire.”
“Again with the big,” he muttered. “Would you like me to show you—”
“Good, it appears that Siljar has called the Commission into session.” She interrupted his peevish provocation, bending over a bowl closest to the stained-glass window.
Cyn frowned, forgetting his fear as he watched her tiny shiver. Dammit. He needed to find some way to keep the massive castle warm.
“Why is that good?”
“I can lock on them all at once.”
Even without much knowledge of magic, Cyn recognized the amount of sheer talent, not to mention strength, it must take to keep a lock on a dozen of the world’s most powerful demons.