Dreams Made Flesh

fought her own internal battle. On one level, she knew holding the rock wasn't a defense against an attack, but it still took a while before she managed to convince her body. When her hands finally relaxed, he drew them away from the rock. Sliding his hands up to her shoulders, he straightened up, bringing her with him.
    Being attracted to her made him aware of her body in ways he'd had to pretend he didn't notice, but he wasn't going to ignore this. No, he was not.
    But he would stay calm.
    He led her over to the stone that had weathered into a natural seat. As he helped her ease down to sit on the stone, he noticed the Rose Jewel she wore. Her Birthright Jewel. He could think of one reason why she was wearing the Rose instead of her Purple Dusk, and he didn't like it.
    But he would be reasonable.
    "What in the name of Hell are you doing?" he roared. She shrank away from him as he towered over her, but seeing her so tired made him too angry to care that he was scaring her. "I…I…" Marian stammered.
    "You what? Wanted to see how many rocks you could move before you ruined your back? I know it still bothers you occasionally, so don't bother trying to deny it."
    She winced. "I used Craft to take most of the weight." "Oh, I can see that," he said, pointing at her Rose Jewel. "And you needed to draw so much power to lift things you couldn't possibly lift otherwise that you drained your Purple Dusk Jewel doing it. Isn't that why you're wearing the Rose?"
    When she just stared at him mutely, he swore and started pacing to work off the sharpest edge of temper. Problem was, the movement also gave him time to notice more of what she'd done.
    He snarled at her. "In order to get this much cleared, you must have started the minute I was out of sight and kept at it for the past two days."
    "I got my work done," Marian protested.
    Oh. Well. That certainly made him feel better. And the tears in her eyes and defeated way she held herself ripped at him. He didn't want her defeated. He didn't want her afraid. But he'd be damned if he was going to let her hurt herself in order to do…
    "What is this, Marian?" Lucivar waved his hand to indicate the cleared land. "Explain."
    She looked at the ground, a tear sliding down her face. "A kitchen garden," she whispered. "Some herbs. A few flowers. I didn't think you'd mind."
    His temper had eased back from true anger to just being pissed off again, but that comment came close to snapping the leash. He hauled her to her feet, certain her back and leg muscles were now tight enough that she couldn't have gotten up by herself, and pulled her toward the eyrie.
    Her emotions battered at him…fear that he was going to punish her for doing something without his permission, fear of what a man of his temper and power would do to her as punishment. The fact that she expected punishment told him more about the males who had been part of her life than he wanted to know.
    "If you wanted a kitchen garden, you could have spent the past two days figuring out where you wanted it and what you wanted in it," he said, keeping his voice as level as he could manage. "I could have cleared the ground for you when I got back. Did it even occur to you to ask me?"
    "No," Marian said in a small voice.
    No. Well, that was a kick in the balls. Even the coven knew better than that. Blood males served. That was something so deeply ingrained in the males even the cruelty in Terreille couldn't extinguish it completely. In Kaeleer, where the Blood still lived by the Old Ways, males considered it their right and privilege to serve…and got pretty testy when a witch they knew personally denied them an opportunity to be helpful.
    If Marian didn't know that yet, it was something she'd better figure out. Fast.
    He pulled her into the eyrie, through the laundry room, and wound his way through curving corridors until he reached the pool Andulvar
    had built long ago as a place for a warrior to sit back in heated water and ease tired muscles.
    She hadn't openly fought him in an attempt to get away, but from the first step, she'd been silently resisting like some stubborn puppy tethered to a leash. That was fine since he had the rhythm of this little dance and knew how to use it.
    Treat her like the coven, Saetan had said. Well, he knew exactly what he'd have done to Jaenelle or any of her friends if they'd upset him over something like this.
    When he got near the edge of the pool, he propelled Marian forward. Her automatic step