Not her, too. “This is not a lair.” He went about making a fire, starting the kindling easily.

She laughed. “Okay. The lair is in the mountain, so this is the entrance to the lair? Anyway, answer my question.”

Bossy, wasn’t she? He turned and caught her coat as she threw it, discarded his own, and set them both near the now crackling fire. “The ritual to kill Ulric will take the Seven, the blood of the three Keys, and the Lock, who is Hope Kayrs-Kyllwood.”

“What does the Lock do?” Grace asked.

“There’s some debate about that, but I think her blood is like a catalyst that gets yours and that of the other Keys going.” Then all four females could remain safely out of the final ritual, which suited him just fine. He moved to the sofa and settled beside her, contentment flowing through him.

She reached for the pack of her belongings that had been sent from the cabin Adare and Benny shared and drew out a file folder. “So, Sam?”

Oh yeah. Adare looked over at the folder. “We don’t know where the ritual takes place. Sam does. Or rather, it’s his job as keeper of the place to find it. Apparently he’s struggling.” He grinned when she gave him that look that said she was doubting his grasp on reality. “I know it’s a lot.” So was gravity or the Earth being round if someone had been raised to believe otherwise.

She breathed out. “I want to talk to you, but do we need to go check on Benny?”

Adare shook his head. Night was falling, and Benny needed sleep. “No. Garrett is going to keep an eye on him tonight, since everyone else is reuniting or celebrating with mates. Tomorrow we’ll gather and figure out a plan. First, we need some rest, and like you said, we need to talk.”

She swallowed and drew out a photograph. Of him. “What do you see?”

He tugged her closer to look. “It’s me, maybe five years ago?” He was standing outside, near a lake. Maybe at Realm headquarters.

“Look closer.”

It hit him then. He was seeing himself through her eyes. He looked strong and fierce, impossible and in love. Definitely in love. That had to be the light glinting in his eyes. “I see.”

“Do you?” She set the picture down and slid over him, straddling him, her eyes an impossibly stunning hue.

“Yes.” His throat closed.

She leaned in and kissed him, her lips sweet and soft. “I love you.” Then she leaned back. “What you said before was sweet but it’s okay if you’re not really there yet, and it’s okay if we have to wrench open your emotions with the jaws of life. Apparently I’m now immortal and have centuries to make you realize what you feel.”