“I’m sorry,” he managed to say. He lifted his face but hid it in his hands, still. “I don’t...I don’t know how it happened. I would never...” His voice grew tight and he pulled his hands away. “I would never disrespect my wife.”

Goddamn Kristan. Noah looked ravaged. Tormented.

“It’s my fault.” Lindsay touched Noah’s cheek to make him meet his eyes. “I should have warned you about Kristan’s magic. She can be hard to resist, if you’re susceptible to it. And it’s my fault you hurt her. I gave you your magic back.”

It had been the wrong decision, but it had been Lindsay’s decision to make. He could see now that he should’ve put himself behind Noah’s eyes to see what was happening, first. In the moment, he’d been unable to think of anything but Noah, alone and scared and defenseless—exactly the way Lindsay had been for so long—and he’d reacted.

So many of the things Dane had said and done made more sense now.

Noah pulled away and scrubbed one hand over his face, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean... No, I did.

I meant to hurt her. I wanted her to stop. Then I wanted her to stop screaming. She wouldn’t stop. And I did it to her.” His voice broke and all he could do was shake his head like he could make it go away if he denied it enough.

“I’m sorry. I won’t leave you alone like that again.”

Lindsay had known how fragile Noah was, but it hadn’t occurred to him that Kristan would be a concern. He never would have touched Kristan or Ylli without Vivian’s permission. But Kristan... He had trespassed where she had once been with Dane, so of course she would help herself to what was his. He had

inadvertently set Noah up for this all that time ago, when he had been as new to Cyrus’s house as Noah was now.

He knelt up and offered Noah his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you dried off, and we’ll go upstairs. You need to get some rest.”

“I should be sorry.” Noah took Lindsay’s hand, but it was obvious his mind was far afield. “I should...for what I did to her. I should be worried. But I don’t feel anything.”

Noah was in shock. The faraway look in his eyes and everything about his behavior confirmed that for Lindsay.

He flicked off the water and stood, drawing Noah up with him. “Come on. Time to get dried off.

Kristan will be fine. There’s a healer with her now. I’m worried about you.”

“I don’t know why I wanted this.” Noah followed, clinging to Lindsay’s hand. “I didn’t. I didn’t want it anymore. I can feel it in me now. All the time. I used to feel her.”

Her. “Your wife?”

Lindsay regretted the question as soon as he’d asked it. He didn’t want to dredge up more painful memories, after what Noah had already gone through today. “I’m sorry. Nevermind.”

He grabbed a towel from the shelf and patted gently to dry the burnt skin on Noah’s neck. It was only then that he realized Noah was naked, but he set aside the awareness of Noah’s body to focus on more important things.

He handed Noah a second towel and kept himself busy drying Noah’s back and wrapping him up in one of the huge, soft robes hanging from hooks near the door. Vivian had likely bought them; she came and went like spring rainstorms, leaving puddles of domesticity as she passed through. Dane and Cyrus would live in a shed if Cyrus didn’t need to stay warm in his old age.

“You don’t have to do this.” Noah fastened the tie at his waist with an angry jerk. “I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry for doing this to you. None of it is your fault. You shouldn’t have to babysit me.”

That drew a bubble of laughter from Lindsay, quiet and quickly swallowed down. “Trust me, this is nothing compared to what Dane had to do for me. Come on upstairs and I’ll tell you a bedtime story about a broken mage and the army sent halfway around the world to hunt him.”

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Noah said. “As long as I can’t set anyone else on fire.”

“I can fix that.” Lindsay let go of the door handle and turned back to Noah, offering his hand again.

The contact helped him narrow his focus and let him work more quickly. This wasn’t the time to force Noah to rely on his own control, as impressive as it was.

Noah slid his good hand into Lindsay’s and let Lindsay into his mind with a sigh that sounded like relief.

“I would hate to hurt you.”

“Unlike Kristan,” Lindsay muttered dryly as he wove the illusion through Noah’s mind, “I have self-control.” He would never be the one to touch Noah first, not that way. If he let himself feel how angry he was that she’d tried to help herself to what he denied himself, to what was his, he’d do more harm than good. He could feel the fury lurking.

Noah didn’t say anything, just held Lindsay’s hand tighter, as though he were afraid Lindsay would leave him. Lindsay squeezed back, hoping to reassure him, and let his magic snap into place over Noah’s.

As he led Noah out into the hall, Lindsay didn’t let go of his hand. Around the corner and up the stairs, Noah was silent the whole way.

Opening the door to the room he shared with Dane, Lindsay spared a thought for whether Dane would be upset at finding Noah there. He hoped not. He’d deal with that later. For now, he guided Noah to the bed.

“If he eats me, it’s on your head,” Noah mumbled, crawling into bed obediently. He was wobbly and drunk—on exhaustion or alcohol, Lindsay couldn’t tell. He didn’t smell drunk, though, and it made sense that his body would burn through alcohol quickly.

“He’ll have to go through me first,” Lindsay assured him, pulling a sheet up to cover Noah. Using magic wouldn’t have tired Noah out. His emotional distress must have been terrible. Lindsay wasn’t sure how to fix that kind of thing. Dane knew, but Noah was Lindsay’s problem. “I think he might want to keep me alive. I’m a little bit useful.”

Lindsay sat on the edge of the bed and tucked the sheet up around Noah’s shoulders. With all the heat radiating from Noah’s body, he probably didn’t need the sheet for warmth, but if Lindsay were Noah, he’d want to be covered up right now.

“Worry about yourself, not me.” Noah didn’t protest being tucked in, but he frowned at Lindsay. “If anyone’s going to catch cold around here, it’s you.”

Lindsay looked down to see that his clothes were soaked. He was leaving a wet patch on the bed. He must’ve left a trail of puddles through the house, but he’d been focused on Noah and he hadn’t noticed any of it.

“If winter in the Black Forest didn’t kill me, a little water isn’t going to hurt.” Of course, now that Lindsay had noticed it, he was freezing. He stood and headed for the tiny closet in the corner of the room, shedding his soggy clothes as he went.

He had to peel off the slacks, and his shoes would take days to dry, but finally he was covered in warm, dry jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He came back to the bed with a dry hand towel to soak up some of the dampness he’d left on the sheets, then tossed it toward the hamper with the rest of the wet clothes.

Noah had looked for a moment as if he were falling asleep, his eyes closed and his breathing even.

When Lindsay sat down, though, he opened his eyes again.

“That’s better. Did you...” He paused. “How is...she?” He couldn’t even bring himself to say Kristan’s name.

Lindsay cast back to what the healer had said. Better than the porch, which had likely been destroyed.

“She’ll live.” He didn’t know more than that. “I’ll check on her soon,” he added, running a hand lightly over Noah’s bare head. “You should rest.”

“I will.” Noah closed his eyes and let Lindsay pet him. His breathing slowed and he seemed to fall asleep quickly. He’d been through a lot all at once this evening.

Petting Noah for a few more minutes, Lindsay watched him sleep. He’d screwed up. What if Cyrus hadn’t been here? What if Noah really had been attacked? Lindsay was never going to let this happen again.