Page 59 of Bitten & Burned

“Dance?” I squeaked.

“Yes, dance. It’s part of being courtly.”

“I know, but you? Dancing?”

“Rowena… later. Right now? Get in the water. You’re…” He glanced down my frame and back up to my eyes. “Naked.”

“Quil, please. Will you get in with me?”

He frowned, glancing between the spring, me, and back to the spring again. “Just… what? Undress and get in the water with you?”

“Yes, after you help me sit down because my joints and muscles ache. Please come sit with me. Sit close so I know you’re there.”

“You can see me from there. You’ll know I’m still with you.”

“Quil, please…” I poked out my bottom lip.

He sighed heavily, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and yanked it over his head.

“Really? That worked?”

“Apparently.”

“Hmm. Seems like I could do some damage with only my bottom lip.”

“You could do damage with only your pinky,” Quil said.

I averted my gaze when he got to his trousers. If he could be a gentleman, I could be a lady. No matter how much I wanted to run my hands over his chest. Arms. Stomach. Everywhere.

I might be hurting, but I wasn’t dead.

He stepped up behind me, taking my hands to help me into the spring. Then he waded in after me, and together we sank into the water.

“Gods,” I moaned. “This is perfect.” I sank down to my neck, letting the warmth embrace me. It felt like a just hot enough cup of tea on a cold morning.

“Not too hot?” Quil asked, still watching me like I might shatter.

“Hot enough that I can feel my muscles unclench for the first time in days,” I said, letting my head tip back. “You have no idea how good this feels.”

“I might have an idea,” he murmured, sinking a little deeper so the water lapped at his shoulders.

I cracked one eye open at him. “Because you’ve been in here before, or because you’re sitting in a hot spring with me?”

His mouth twitched. “Both.”

I let out a soft laugh, the sound echoing faintly off the stone walls. “See? You can relax.”

He shook his head. “Only enough to keep you from noticing I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Quil,” I said softly, “you don’t have to be on guard every second. I can’t imagine you’d have chosen this place if other people knew about it.”

His gaze stayed on me, steady and unblinking, and I realized he was memorizing me — the way I sat against the rock, the steam curling around us, the relief in my shoulders.

“Humor me,” he said finally. “Let me be on guard. You just… be.”

I eased back against him without thinking, the water carrying some of my weight. “Fine. But if you’re going to hover, you might as well be comfortable.”

There was the barest pause, then I felt his arm wrap around me, pulling me back until my spine was against his chest. The heat of him was different from the spring’s; it was more solid and alive.

“You always run hot,” I murmured.

“That’s what you notice?”

I smiled to myself, eyes drifting closed. “I notice everything about you.”

He didn’t answer right away, but his fingers dragged soft lines up and down my arms.

The quiet wasn’t awkward. It was heavy in the best way—like the stillness before you step over a threshold you can’t come back from.

We sat like that for a long while, just breathing and soaking in the warmth.

Quil spoke first.

“Dmitri knows.”

“What?”

“About this place. He’s the only one I’ve ever shown it to… besides you.”

I tilted my head back against him. “You’re close with Dmitri, aren’t you? I mean, of course you are, but what I really mean is—”

“Yeah, I am. He’s like my…” He trailed off.

“Big brother?”

A small smile cracked his face. “Yeah.” Then it faded.

He was quiet long enough that I thought he might not speak again.“Because he’s the one who found me. After I was turned.”

The weight in his voice shifted to something heavier. “I was twenty-three. There was an attack at one of my family’s lodges… my birthday hunt. We’d just come back…”

I reached for his hand. It was clenched tight. I pried it open and held it between both of mine.

“They were seeking us out—the Ashbornes. Vampire hunters. It was poetic, I suppose. Vampires taking out most of the family like that. Guess we had it coming.”

“Quil… no one deserves something like that.”

“My father did. My brothers. My mother. Me. But not all of them. I tried. Tried to protect them. I couldn’t. I was the only one of our branch of the family left alive at the end of it. The one who did it—who turned me—her name was Claudia Bane.”

“She told you her name?”

“No. Dmitri and I found her about ten years ago. Took care of it. Vampires will tell you a lot when you’re pulling out their fangs.”

I swallowed hard.

“She turned me because she thought I was cute. Said I’d make a good pet when I found my way back. They buried me under my family’s bodies. It took me until dusk the next night to dig out. By then, it was done. I was a vampire. And I hated myself.”

“Quil…”

“I went feral. For a while.” His gaze stayed on the rippling water. “Dmitri pulled me out of it. Taught me how to… not be that thing.”

“So this cave is…”

“Where I lived before. Yeah.”

Instead of replying to that, I turned towards him, the water sloshing softly between us, and I cupped his jaw in both hands. His stubble was rough against my palms, and I could feel the tension in his muscles—like he was bracing for judgment.

I leaned in and pressed my mouth to his. Not frantic, not hungry. Just steady. Certain. A kiss to anchor him to now instead of then.

When I pulled back, I stayed close, my forehead resting against his.

“That wild, broken thing… it lives in you, yes. But it’s just part of you. Not all of you. It’s just one note in the song, Quil—and there’s so much more to the music.”

He let out a shaky breath, and before I could move away, his hands were on my face—warm, steady, anchoring me in place.

“You always do that,” he murmured.

“Do what?”

“Make the ugly parts sound like they’re worth keeping.”

Then he kissed me.

Not the desperate, teeth-clashing heat from before. This was slow, deliberate… a claiming without fangs. His lips moved over mine like he was relearning the shape of them, tasting the words I’d just spoken.

I shifted, turning in the water until I was straddling his thighs.

His hands slid down to my hips, holding me against him.

The whole time, his mouth never left mine.

He sat down on a ledge beneath the water, pulling me with him.

The steam curled around us, the water cradling us, and for a while there was no past, no vampire hunters, no wounds—just the quiet push and pull of his lips and mine.

When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, and I couldn’t tell if the warmth flooding my chest was from the springs or from him.

Either way, I didn’t want to come up for air.