The second Blake was descending slowly, step by step, never taking his eyes off me.There was a guarded caution in his every move, and even from a distance, he radiated cold.That was exactly what I needed right now, in my overheated, burning state.
I reached for him instinctively, almost without realizing it, while glancing back at the first Blake...
...
A black shadow slipped down the stairs, swift, silent, and vanished from sight.The same one I'd seen that night in the kitchen.Again. Once more...
I wanted to scream.To call out to the Blake above, to make him look in that direction.But the heat crawling over my skin clouded my focus.
"He won't believe me again," kept circling in my mind as I moved toward the one above.I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, its chill brought the faintest clarity.Blake was watching me, confused. Tense. Worried.
"What's wrong with you?.. You look like you're burning. You're all red..." he reached out slowly and touched my forehead.
His palm was icy.Cold spread over my skin, bringing a brief moment of relief. Just a few seconds, but gods, how badly I needed that.I clutched at his forearms, at the parts where his sleeves were rolled up.And yes... it felt incredible.His cold dulled the fire inside me, if only for a moment, and that was enough to crave more.I wanted to touch him. More. Deeper.
"What happened? Are you sick?" he pulled back slightly, still staring at me in bewilderment.But my fingers kept moving along his arms, hungrily, from wrist to elbow and back again.
"No... I don't know," I managed to say, unable to stop myself.Every touch numbed the heat just a little, but if I stopped, it came roaring back stronger than before.
"I told you..." he began, half-scolding, but then suddenly swept me into his arms.
The contact, even through clothes, dulled the inner fire.It didn't extinguish it, no... but it gave me a moment to breathe.
He carried me upstairs, not to his room, but to Nimor's.The door opened slowly, sleepily. We had clearly woken him.
"Check her. She's burning up," Blake said curtly as he stepped inside without waiting for permission.
He sat me on the guest sofa and went to get water.Meanwhile, Nimor pressed his hand to my chest, in that familiar way, and silver light flared, gentle and steady.
After a minute, he withdrew his hand and looked at me, puzzled.And I... was burning up again.Apparently, Blake's cold touch really had made a difference.
When Blake returned with a mug of water and a damp cloth, Nimor had already finished the examination.
"Give her the water. The cloth won't be necessary," he said with a faint smile, accepting the cup.
"What's wrong with her? Just fix it," Blake demanded harshly.
"I don't think I can," Nimor replied calmly, frowning slightly. "It looks like a stimulant has already affected her consciousness. That's why my magic isn't working.And if I try to force it, it could be dangerous. You know we can't risk spellwork on the mind."
He set the cloth aside and handed me the water.I took a desperate sip.
"A stimulant?" I rasped. The heat flared up again in my throat.
"What did you drink?" Blake asked sharply.His voice hardened. I saw his fists clench, his arms crossing over his chest.
"I told you to be careful. Why did you drink it?"
"I... I..." I tried to speak but couldn't.I took another sip, pressed the mug to my lips... and finally croaked:
"I just had tea.The words came with difficulty.I didn't drink a stimulant. I drank tea with..."
And then, a flash of memory.
Eiron.
He brewed the tea. He poured it for me.Could it have been him?But why?..
"Who did you have tea with?" Blake asked, his anger barely restrained.
And inside me, the heat flared again, this time sinking even lower.He stepped closer, and I, unable to stop myself, grabbed his wrist again.He didn't pull away, but his face was already tight with fury.
The moment I touched him, I could breathe.Only then could I speak.
"Eiron... I offered tea... but he brewed it," I whispered, my fingers still touching him.
"That's impossible," Blake snapped."I left him myself this morning at the Northern wall. He was on watch duty."
"I remember he said he was leaving... but..." I trailed off."It was either him... or... a copy," I whispered. "Just like Sunny, back then."
Blake's hands unclenched, and the very next moment, he scooped me into his arms again.
"What will help her?" he asked, already heading for the door.
"You could try a cold bath... but the easiest—"Nimor didn't finish. The door had already slammed shut behind Blake.
"You should've listened," I murmured weakly, in that brief moment when the heat inside me seemed to ease just a little.
"I know all the ways to counter a stimulant, trust me," Blake snapped. "So that was more of a rhetorical question."
We climbed an entire flight of stairs.It felt like either I was getting used to the heat... or Blake's cold, and his anger, had a way of extinguishing it.
When we entered the room, I expected him to lay me down on the living room sofa.Or maybe carry me to my own bedroom.But no, he walked directly toward his.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted his armor on one of the chairs.It was smeared with dried dirt. The stones embedded in it no longer shone.Even the belt I'd once fastened around his waist now lay drained of energy.Had he really fought that much?
But I didn't have time to ask.He tossed me onto his bed, not roughly, but with purpose.
And at that very moment, the fire inside me surged back with new force, rising to the edge of my tolerance.Was he really going to... extinguish it with his body?
He leaned over me, one hand guiding my chin upward, so I could look only at him. Into his eyes.
My heart pounded.From the heat.From his closeness.From the terrifying, thrilling thought of what he might do to me.
"Did he touch you? Did he try anything?" Blake asked, his voice quiet, but edged with steel. His gaze was piercing. Too close. Too intense.
"No," I answered flatly. Almost a breath, not a word.And the heat returned the moment his hand left me.
"Good. We'll deal with the rest in the morning. Right now the priority is to get the heat out of you," he said, not as harshly as before. Almost calm.
"We...?" I asked, barely audible.
Just imagining what could happen made me realize — in this state, I wouldn't resist.
"We?" he smirked and leaned in.His lips almost brushed mine.Only his finger touched me, trailing softly along my lower lip.
"Not we. You," he whispered into my lips... then pulled away."You're getting into a cold bath."
He stood and walked into his bathroom, the one I had never entered.Not even when he wasn't there.
And the moment he left me,My body exploded.
As if someone had lit a match inside me.Thoughts twisted. My mind stumbled.This wasn't relief.This was torture.
A minute later, he returned.But the agony was already consuming me.My thoughts were unraveling.Madness started blooming in my skull, from the fire, from the unbearable sensation that my body would burn from the inside out.
He lifted me into his arms again and carried me into the bathroom.
Water had already filled the tub halfway.It was three times the size of mine, as if built to fit Blake himself.Maybe even three Blakes at once.Enormous.
He set me down on the floor, gesturing to the screen and the chair.
"Towel and clothes," he said curtly, almost like an order. "You need to cool down."
He turned and walked out.
I could barely control my body, or my mind.For a moment, I wanted to call him back.To beg him to stay.To touch me all night, if that's what it took to make the heat go away.
I undressed completely.And stepped into the bath, first sinking to my knees.It felt like if I laid down, I would either lose my mind... or pass out and drown.
The water was cold.It wrapped around me, calming in waves.Slowly, very slowly, the effect began to fade.But the heat still held me.It ruled me.
Breathing became harder.My eyes welled up with tears.
And just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore,That I'd reached the very edge...I wanted to call his name.
And at that exact moment, the door opened.
I was kneeling in the water, naked, burning, shaking.I didn't think he'd return.But shame was long gone.I had no strength or desire for it.
Every part of me, every thought, every nerve, ached for his touch.I wanted only one thing:For him to be my cold against this madness.
"Why did you come back?" my voice broke, hoarse and barely audible.
He stood in the doorway. Silent.His eyes held surprise, and something else... tight, guarded.
"I brought ice," he finally said, lifting the bucket in his hand.He walked over and dumped the shards into the water.
The cold spread across the surface of the water, but even that wasn't enough.The heat inside me only grew stronger.And I broke.I grabbed his wrist.
"My mind is burning. My body is burning...I can't take this.Make it stop."
I pulled him toward me, and without a word, he stepped into the tub.
He sat across from me.
I trembled.But not from the cold.
He looked at me with that quiet, lazy, almost satisfied smile.
Like a predator.
One who'd been waiting.
"What do you want me to do?" His voice dropped, low and teasing.He twirled a lock of my hair around his finger, playing with it slowly.
I guided his hand toward me, down, between my thighs, to where the tension pulsed, deep and demanding.His fingers were cold, just like the water.
He slid them beneath the surface, slow, deliberate, tracing every reaction on my face.
"Deeper," I whispered, nearly pleading, guiding him to the center of my ache.
I parted my lips and moaned softly as his touch found the most sensitive places, precise, unhurried, like he already knew exactly what I needed.
My body trembled as release crashed over me, sweet and agonizing all at once.
I pressed against him, chest to his soaked shirt, and felt my hardened nipples graze the damp fabric.He slid his hand along my back, gentle but firm, as if wanting to leave a mark.
With the other, he kept touching me, slow, steady, following my breath, matching my rhythm.
"More..." I whispered into his chest, gripping him tightly.
He tangled his fingers in my hair and gently pulled my head back.I was bare before him, not just in body, but in everything I felt.And for the first time, I saw it — his restraint slipping.
"Damn it, Bee," he breathed, then kissed me.
He didn't stop, not with his hand, not with his mouth.His tongue moved with mine, like a dance we'd known forever.I held onto his neck, pressed closer, deeper.I didn't want space.I didn't want time.Just him.
His movements grew bolder, deeper, more certain.He found every place that made me shiver, like he knew my body better than I did.
The heat built up again, fast, unstoppable.
My body arched, struggling to hold on, as a second wave surged through me.I cried out, unable to stop myself, and he held me, kept me steady.
His fingers lingered a little longer, drawing out the sensation.My body trembled in soft, fading waves, like the sea pulling back from shore.
He kissed my shoulders, my collarbone, my temple... until I collapsed against his chest, breathless.
No thoughts.Only warmth.Only him.
The fire began to fade.My limbs turned heavy, loose.Sleep pressed in like salvation.
And I let him take me with him, wherever that meant.