"Iris. Iris!"

Char's voice was one with the whispers, urging her to wake up. She was cold, but not frozen through. The warmth of the amulet flowed through her hand, finding the tip of her nose where the biting wind struck her, the ends of her toes where ice clung to her shoes. A cozy, pervading warmth wrapped around the rest of her. Char pushed the hood of blankets back and cupped her face in his hands. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, his expression tense and worried.

"I'm fine," she said reassuringly, trying to sit up. His lips met hers with an intensity that took her breath away. "I'm fine," she repeated, and he kissed her again, his warmth chasing away the lingering cold. "Char, stop," she said when he pulled back to take a breath. "I'm really okay." She sat up, pushing the layers back and looking around. They were in a stone room, but not a cave. Human hands had cut and mortared these stones together. She was sitting on a bed, and Char was sitting by her side, his hand stroking her hair. A faded rug covered most of the stone floor, its design too far gone to be made out. Candles in wall sconces sent strange shadows dancing across the walls. A bureau was the only other furniture in the room. Wind whistled past the frosted glass panes of the single window. There was only a shifting wall of white outside that window.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking up at Char.

"A mage's tower," he replied evenly, his green eyes studying her face. "You were blue last time." His eyes dropped to her chest, where she was still holding the amulet in her right hand. He looked up at her eyes again and smirked. "You're still blue."

That was when she realized she was still wearing the royal blue party dress. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she shoved him away and jumped to her feet, pulling her skirt down and fumbling for the package of clothes among the blankets. He was chuckling behind her, and she blushed even more, memories of their time at the party running through her mind. She found the package and tore at the twine.

"Wait," she said, spinning to face him. "A mage's tower?"

He was casually leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and that smirk sharpening his gaze. "Yes."

She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. "But-"

He pushed off from the wall and stepped toward her, sliding his hands around her waist to her back and pulling her flush with him. Her heart's rhythm was changing. His green eyes were smoldering, coming closer to her face, and she found herself licking her lips in anticipation.

"You said you trusted me," he murmured.

"I...did," she said hesitantly.

"So trust me." He kissed her, and she thought for just a second that maybe she should push him away, maybe this shouldn't be how he convinced her to listen to him, but that thought vanished when his tongue pushed past her lips. Her knees went weak, and she leaned into his embrace, letting him invade her senses and make her head spin. She was panting when he pulled back, and she closed her eyes and rested her cheek on his chest, trying to remember what led to that kiss in the first place.

"Good to know it's not just a drunk thing," he commented, rubbing his hand up and down her bare back.

"Why did you do that?" she asked breathlessly.

"Isn't it obvious?"

She pulled back slightly to look up at him. His eyes were filled with her, only her, as they had been all night at the party. But whenever she'd looked away from him then, she saw other girls looking at him, saw them giving her the occasional dirty look, and she was filled with doubt until she looked back into his eyes.

"You've kissed a lot of girls, haven't you?"

He shrugged. "A few."

"And danced with a lot of girls, too."

"That number is quite a bit higher than the number I've kissed, yes."

"So, what's different about me?"

He didn't answer immediately. His green eyes sharpened until she felt like he was seeing right through her. He sighed and rested his forehead against hers.

"I don't know, Iris. But you are different."

It wasn't an answer, and yet it was. Iris smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Okay."

"Okay, what?" he asked curiously.

"Okay, I believe you. And I trust you."

He smiled, too, and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "You'll be safe here, Iris, at least for a little while. This mage is a friend of mine and has been for many years. My father met him when he was nothing more than an apprentice, and he used to bring me along on his secret visits from time to time. Not even Mother or Rath know about him."

"Why keep him a secret?" Iris asked curiously.

"There's little that can hurt a dragon more than a mage," he replied. "Most dragons avoid them." He smirked. "With a few notable exceptions."

She pulled free from his embrace. "Well, shouldn't you introduce me to him?"

"It's the middle of the night, Iris. He's asleep."

"Then who let us in?"

Char shrugged. "I have a key. This is my room when I have to stay over."

"Oh." She scanned the room again, her eyes landing on the window and the blizzard swirling outside. "How long were you flying?"

"Almost a full day."

She turned back to him with wide eyes. "In that weather?"

"It wouldn't have taken so long otherwise."

"You must be exhausted!" She turned back to the bed and removed the package of clothes. "You need to get some sleep," she said firmly, turning back to him.

"I'm fine, Iris."

"No, you're not, and you're not flying back in that storm." She set the package on the bureau and came back to his side, taking his hand and tugging him toward the bed. "Rath is covering for you, and I'm sure you'll come up with some excuse for your delay. Now rest."

"You're very insistent," he mused. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her onto his lap. "What about you?"

"I've been asleep the whole time you were flying," she replied, avoiding his eyes and trying to ignore the warmth creeping into her cheeks again.

"You can't wander around a mage's tower unattended," he said, catching her chin and forcing her to face him.

"Well, I'll put my clothes away," she tried.

"And what will you do with the other five hours until dawn?" he asked, the corner of his lip turning up slightly.

"I'll figure something out," she said, standing up and moving out of his reach. "Lie down and close your eyes."

"Have a surprise lined up for me?" he asked suggestively, but he did as she said.

"No, I do not have a surprise lined up for you. I need to change into something sensible, and you need your rest." She grabbed one of the extra blankets and threw it over his face.

"Hey!"

"That stays there until I'm done changing."

He chuckled. "Fair enough."

She finished untying the twine, and then she realized the package was made of his shirt. That was a detail she didn't catch last night when she was still under the effects of the alcohol. She winced at the thought. One glass of wine. One little glass of what Rath said was a light wine, and that was enough to get her drunk. She blushed, remembering how forward she was at the party, her fingers trembling as she undid the shirt to reach her clothes inside.

"Done yet?"

"No," she said, glancing back to see his green eyes peeking past the blanket. "You!" She grabbed the shirt and stormed over to the bed, throwing that down on his face, too. "No peeking!"

"Okay, okay."

He pulled the blanket back over his head, and she went back to the bureau, grabbing the dark green dress she'd been wearing before this whole party escape plan came up. She glanced back at him, and this time his face was still hidden. But he was trouble. He told her he was trouble, his mother told her he was trouble, and she had plenty of first-hand experience in the affirmative. He wasn't someone she should fall for. She still wasn't quite sure how it happened, and she didn't have time to think about it now. She moved past the head of the bed, so if he tried to look, she'd be behind him, not across from him, and she'd have an extra second to throw something over his face or smack him. Never before had she stripped so quickly, not even in the church basement when the cold of winter frosted the nails in the ceiling. She pulled on the green dress, and then she realized her problem. The fastenings at the back of the dress.

"Um...Char?"

"Am I allowed to look now?"

She took a deep breath. The blue dress was backless. He'd seen her bare back. Touched it. This was fine.

"I need some help with the back."

"My specialty," he said, a little too smugly for her liking. He pulled the blanket and shirt off his face and sat up. The smirk he wore was also not to her liking. "Come here."

"Why don't you come here?" she countered, clutching the front of her dress tightly against her.

"I thought you wanted me in bed."

"Don't say it like that!" she shot back, mortified.

He grabbed her waist and pulled her around the bed to stand in front of him. "Turn around."

"Maybe you should fly out into that blizzard," she muttered.

"You don't mean that."

She shivered as his fingers grazed her skin. "Char-"

"You're irresistible, Iris."

"Well, resist!"

He chuckled and tugged the fabric closed. She breathed a sigh of relief as he worked his way up the dress, closing the fastenings one by one, but this wasn't over yet. When the last button was in its loop, he grabbed her waist and pulled her down into bed with him.

"Char!"

"I can't sleep with you watching me," he teased, placing a light kiss on her nose.

"I'm not sleeping with you!" she insisted.

"Then don't."

He closed his eyes, and she stared at him in disbelief, his face inches from her on the pillow, his arms wrapped around her waist. She should slap him for this, but she couldn't quite do it. She couldn't quite be angry with him, either. He was a tease, and a troublemaker, and he made her heart pound in a way that she'd never felt before. She sighed and pulled a blanket up over them.

"If you tell anybody about this, I'll kill you," she threatened, snuggling up to his chest. "And I can do it. I'm a mage."

"Noted."

She listened to the steady beating of his heart, the slowing of his breathing, and she closed her eyes. Father John wouldn't approve of this, but he was gone, and Char was all she had. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to him. Maybe it was just physical attraction with an unhealthy dose of fear and vulnerability that drove her to his arms. That would explain it. She needed him, and he was always there for her. Simple enough.

That wasn't it, though, and she knew it.