Page 39 of Midwinter Night's Prince

“Drop your shields and we’ll find out,” she dared him.

He might not like doing it, but Blair had done the same for him in the labyrinth. Seth let go of the mental shields he’d learned to put up as a teen. Each layer dropped one after the other, leaving him bare to her.

Then he felt her. The essence of her magic wrapped around him, enclosing him in a golden cage. It felt good in her prison. Safe.

Silent.

Gone were the pressing whispers, the need to obey them.

“There. It won’t last for long, but I closed you up as much as I could.”

“How did you—”

“My grandmother used a similar spell on me when I was a child. Other people’s thoughts were driving me bonkers. She had to do it every night until I was old enough to learn how to control it. A stronger witch or a coven can find a more permanent solution later.”

A stronger witch? She must be kidding. “Blair, you survived a hole in your chest that should have killed you.”

“I have no idea how that happened, trust me. A papercut takes weeks to heal on me, normally. Aphrodite must have done something to me—I can’t think of any other explanation.”

He charged on, ignoring her. “You had magic since you were a kid—most witches don’t develop powers until their teens.”

“Magic I can’t use.”

She was impossible. “From the moment you touched my mind over a year ago, I knew there was something about you. You’re more. More than a witch, more than mortal. More than you give yourself credit for.”

She bit her lip, which drew his eyes to her plump, luscious mouth.

Blair shifted uncomfortably at what she saw in his gaze. Sheer hunger. He was fucking starving all over again.

She cleared her throat. “Do you mind checking if there are clothes somewhere, and pointing me in the direction of a bathroom?”

Seth remained where he sat for another second before moving next to his sofa. He pressed a hand to a wooden door. “En suite,” he said, opening it himself. He whistled, happy with the green marble bathtub and the antique iron sink. “There are towels there already, and the toothbrush is new.” Cat had gone above and beyond for him. Every shelf was filled with the kind of overpriced, personalized products he usually liked to use, including his favorite brands of shampoo and aftershave. He could already see some hairspray and aftershave he had meant to try.

Seth wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. He was used to his home being taken care of by servants who did their job well because he paid them to do so. Cat wasn't an employee; she was his sister. She done this for him because she cared about him. His heart tightened in his chest. The issue was that he couldn't really recall doing much for her, and he wanted to. She was one of the two people who meant the most to him, and he wanted her to know that.

Seth wasn't raised in a household where affection was shown every day. His mother had seldom been present, and when she had, all she'd wanted was to check on his schooling. After confirming that he was still receiving straight As in every discipline, including combat and all forms of magic, she'd perfunctorily upped his allowance, and patted his head when he’d been lucky.He couldn't even remember her hugging him. If she had, he must have been under five. Caring was one thing—one thing he wasn't great at, but was starting to get the hang of. Showing it, though? He needed a fucking manual. He'd have to find a way to get better at it. Half the time when they met, Cat knelt in front of him like he was nothing but the head of her house, a superior. He’d always hated it, and it had to change.

He wasn't surprised the guest bedrooms were as well prepared as his own. In the silver and green bedroom where he had already taken the duvet, Seth found thick, fluffy bathrobes, slippers, as well as an array of simple T-shirts and yoga pants in various sizes. He grabbed a white top and gray pair of pants that looked like they might fit Blair's athletic frame. When he returned to the owner’s suite, he could hear water running in the next room. Which meant that there was nothing but a wooden door separating him from a naked Blair.

He deliberately breathed out, shaking his head.

Seth left the clothes on his unmade bed and forced himself to walk out of the room, out of the house. Her scent was too potent in here.

He wasn't surprised to see a crowd assembled on his doorstep. Catarina stood in the doorway, as if to block the entrance. Most of the other inhabitants of Night Hill waited on his patio, visibly impatient. Levi DeVillier sat on a still wet bench—the beauty of Scotland in the winter—his slayers standing around him. The Helsings had opted for the steps of his entryway.

“I see some notable absences,” Seth remarked, after scanning each face. “And one equally notable new face.” There was a child on Levi's lap, a girl dressed in a frilly white and red dress, with pouty lips and fat cheeks. She had thick blonde curls, although her roots were dark brown.

Seth remembered hearing that Chloe had been pregnant a while back, but he'd been out of the territory for most of it, quite forgotten until now. Seth grinned at the child without even trying. “Where is your mama, tiny fangs?”

Levi’s jaw tightened. “I'm not sure. She was supposed to be in class, but—”

“No need to send out a search party,” the cheerful American replied, appearing at the end of his paved yard before her mate could get another word in.

Chloe was wearing boots, jeans, and a half-ripped T-shirt, casually dragging along a beat-up weekend bag behind her. “Hey, Seth. Long time!” Something writhed and grunted in the bag. Chloe kicked it hard. “I have a little surprise for everyone.”

She unzipped her bag, and Seth couldn't help but laugh. Erys was all tied up like a hog inside, his hands, mouth, wrists, legs, and feet wrapped in duct tape.

"How the hell did you get him?” Levi was practically screeching.

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