"W-what are you doing?" Edlyn flushed, backed off to the side, eyes wary like a cat bristling in lamplight.

Eli blinked, the strange trance snapping like thin ice. "Ahem. It's nothing. Just... got carried away, got carried away."

Edlyn shot him a look of pure disdain, then fled to the far bed and flopped down, like a fox seeking cover.

Eli cut an awkward glance at Hiri, who had his eyes shut. "Ahem. So, uh, Hiri. Sorry about that."

Hiri opened his eyes, cheeks rosy like winter apples. "Ahem. It's fine."

"Anyway, I'm Eli Aestor. Just call me Eli." He pointed at Edlyn hugging her quilt. "That's Edlyn Bruyar. The one before was her sister, Angela Bruyar."

"Okay, okay," Hiri said in a hurry, words tripping like pebbles.

"Alright, Hiri, little— sir." Eli sat on the bed, let out a long breath like steam, and asked, "Why did they snatch you with that thing?"

Hiri frowned, lips sealed like frost on glass.

Eli shook his head, gentle. "Relax. You don't have to hide it. What matters, I can more or less guess."

"Huh?" Hiri blinked at him, puzzled. Angela handed Eli warm water. He spoke, "That outfit of yours looks like a beggar's now." He tilted his head. "But what kind of cloth shrugs off a spellmark from an Archmage, even when I'm holding back?"

"And in a land of snow, you dared run around dressed that thin. That's something." Eli watched the flustered Hiri with a teasing grin, like a cat toying with yarn.

"Also, ever met anyone with the surname Sers?" Eli clapped once, a little snowflake spark of humor, and smiled.

"Hiri, if you plan to hide your identity, think it through. In a man-hating beast territory, there's a cozy little village? Really?"

"Uh, uh..." Hiri stared at Eli, embarrassment prickling like needles.

"Not going to talk?" Eli smiled, mild as early fog.

The hut sank into silence, broken only by the roast-and-pop of arcane fire in the stove, like coals breathing.

Edlyn cradled a drowsy Angela, shot Eli a brief supervising glance, then let her eyes fall shut like shutters at dusk.

"Well, if you don't want to say it now, that's fine." Eli stretched, lazy as a cat, and sat on the middle bed under Hiri's loosening gaze. "Nice place. Three beds. Edlyn, dear, how much did you pay?"

Edlyn gave him another look of disdain. "One thousand Ankaran."

"Oh-ho, only a mere thousand... a thousand?!" Eli's mouth twitched. He stared at Edlyn, as if checking whether he'd fallen into an illusion.

Edlyn nodded, calm as a pond at dawn.

What was there to fear, when it was someone else's purse on the fire?

"Aaah! My money!"

The small room filled with one man's wails, long as winter wind.

Eli leaned against the bed. Moonlight pooled in the dark, making his blue pupils look deeper, like wells under ice.

He checked his senses—Hiri was already asleep. Eli smiled and shook his head, like brushing snow from a sleeve.

He smiled at the figure by his bed, her gaze full of quiet grievance. "Full moon tonight."

"Full moon." Edlyn bit her lip, aggrieved, watching Eli tease like a fox with a feather.

For a year now, every time the Succubus hunger rose, she'd been stuck swallowing her pride, like knots in a silk cord.

Eli lay back, arms open like wings, and smiled. "Come here."

Edlyn crawled into his arms, reluctant as a cat in rain. His scent wrapped her; a delicate blush bloomed.

Hmph. The Hero has finally become my blood thrall.

Only thinking that way could she balance the scales in her heart.

A Succubus must take in the opposite sex's bodily fluids within a set span, or she weakens, and weakens, until death. Few can endure the flare of their nature—the ache of rut—without breaking.

Edlyn leaned in, bit open Eli's neck, and drew blood in slow sips, like a bee at crimson nectar.

Eli, of course, wouldn't take advantage and demand her body in a moment like this.

Since fluids are all she needs, blood works. It's weaker, so she needs more, and the neck becomes the target. She lacks the Bloodkin's fangs or numbing venom. Tearing flesh open by force, letting blood pour—most couldn't bear that raw pain and nausea.

After a while, Edlyn lifted her head. Eli's face had gone pale, smile steady as a lantern. Her grievance thinned into guilt—he'd cared for her and her sister for a year.

She licked the wound lightly. He shivered, then hurried to gather her up.

"Miss Edlyn, please don't push your luck," Eli said with a wry smile, heat under snow.

Eli sat up, pressed his left hand to the wound, and muttered a clumsy healing spell. Green light seeped like spring through frost, and the cut closed.

He ruffled Edlyn's hair and chuckled. "Go to sleep." She gave him a complicated look, then curled into his blankets. Somehow, she didn't want to move.

Eli could only give a helpless smile. He shook his head, lay down slow as falling snow, held the girl, and let his eyes close.