“Not a good suggestion, old son. I have a tendency to bite, remember?” Smiling, Lucivar massaged his upper arm. “So does Marian. She tends to get feisty when she’s riled.”

Seeing the warmth and pleasure in Lucivar’s eyes, Daemon ruthlessly suppressed a surge of envy.

Finally reaching an outside door, they headed for the Eyriens gathered at the far end of the expansive lawn.

“By the way,” Lucivar said, “while you were brooding—”

“I wasn’t brooding,” Daemon snarled.

“—you missed the fun this morning.”

Daemon clenched his teeth. He wouldn’t ask. Wouldn’t. “What fun?”

“See the embarrassed-looking wolf standing by himself?”

Daemon looked at the gray-furred animal watching a group of women going through some kind of exercise with Eyrien sticks. “Yes.”

“Graysfang wants to be Surreal’s friend. He’s young and he doesn’t have much experience with humans, especially the females. Apparently, in an effort to strengthen that friendship and improve his understanding of females, he joined Surreal while she was taking a shower. Since her head was under the water at the moment, she didn’t realize he was there until he stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.”

“That would have improved his understanding of females,” Daemon said dryly.

“Exactly. Then, when he whined that he had soap in his fur, she dragged him all the way into the shower and washed him. So now he smells like flowers.”

Daemon bit his lip. “There’s an easy remedy for that.”

Lucivar cleared his throat. “Well, there usually would be, but as soon as they got outside, she threatened to smack him if he got dirty.”

“Everything has a price,” Daemon said in a choked voice. Noticing the woman Surreal was talking to, he gave Lucivar a sharp nudge. “Should Marian be doing something that strenuous during her moon time?”

Lucivar hissed. “Don’t you start.” He stopped walking and studied the women through narrowed eyes. “I told her she could do one round of the warmup drill. She’ll sneak a little more in under the guise of demonstrating the moves, but after that she’ll be content to rest.”

Daemon looked at the women and then at Lucivar. “You told your wife how much she could do?”

“Of course I didn’t tell my wife,” Lucivar said indignantly. “Do I look like a fool? The Warlord Prince of Ebon Rih told a witch who lives in his territory.”

“Ah. That’s different.”

“Damn right it is. If I told my wife, she would have tried to dent my head with a stick.”

Daemon laughed as they continued toward the Eyrien warriors. “Now I am sorry I missed it.”

Lucivar focused his attention on Falonar and Rothvar, who had just stepped into the practice circle, while Daemon watched Surreal and Marian go through a couple of moves.

“Who is she?” Daemon asked when the spiky-haired witch joined the other women.