“Because, despite Daemon’s efforts to shield the bedroom, the…um…revelry tends to leak through the shields and makes the darker-Jeweled residents itchy. And neither of them wants to broach the subject with Jaenelle to ask her to create the shields since she’s happily oblivious to anything but her Consort at the moment—and Saetan, not to mention Daemon, wants to keep it that way.”

“Well,” Lucivar said blandly, “if Saetan needs a respite from the frolic going on in the Hall, he could always spend an evening—or two—with Sylvia.”

“Now, Lucivar,” Prothvar scolded, “you know they’re just friends.”

“Of course they are.” Noticing the moon, Lucivar did a quick mental tally, then gave Prothvar a sharp look. “Has anyone talked to Daemon about drinking a contraceptive brew?”

“That was taken care of. I had the impression that Daemon would welcome a child in the future, but, right now, he wants to enjoy his Lady’s bed.”

“In that case, Saetan should have a few days’ reprieve fairly soon.” Lucivar glanced back at the lights shining from the windows of his home and thought about enjoying his own Lady’s bed as soon as Daemonar was asleep. But he asked politely, “Do you want to come in? I have some yarbarah.”

“Thanks, but no,” Prothvar replied. “I still have to report to Andulvar.” He said good night, spread his dark wings, and vaulted into the night sky.

As Lucivar walked back to his home, a lone wolf howled. He grinned. Since the sound was coming from the direction of Falonar’s eyrie, he didn’t have to ask where Surreal was spending the night.

So Surreal was snuggled up with Falonar, Jaenelle was snuggled up with Daemon, and Marian…

When he entered the eyrie, she was standing in the kitchen doorway. She smiled in that quiet way that always excited his body and thrilled his heart.

“I was going to make some tea,” she said. “It’s cold tonight.”

He returned the smile, then gave her a long, very thorough kiss. “I have a better way to warm you up.”

6 / Kaeleer

The Arachnian Queen floated in the air in front of her tangled web of dreams and visions—the web she had linked to the web Witch had spun. The cold season was almost upon them. It was time for the Dream Weavers to settle into the caves and burrows, but she needed to see this web once more…just to be sure.

She studied Witch’s tangled web first.

One small thread was dark, dark, dark. The first death.

There would be more. Many more.

Then she studied her own tangled web.

But not until the warming earth season. Even humans tended to remain in their lairs during the cold season.