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Wolfe moved into the middle of the ruins, archway fading behind him. He eyed the treeline, hands curled into fists. I lunged for the first candle, knocking it sideways instead. It fell into a puddle of rainwater, wick hissing as it finally went out. The rest of the candles immediately stopped burning, plunging our circle into darkness.

The temperature around us began to slowly rise, the darkness and shadows hovering around us finally receding. The link was broken and Wolfe was—

Right in front of me.

I gasped, falling to my backside. He knelt by my feet, studying my blood on the stones. Wet hair was plastered to his brow, eyes almost unreadable in the dark. He lifted his portrait, the waterproof bag smeared with my blood. I thought maybe I’d done something irreparable, something I could never undo. I felt the tether between us like a rope around my ribs, unbreakable and unyielding.

“You’re hurt,” he murmured, bringing his gaze to mine.

My throat went dry at the sight of it. The rain didn’t feel quite as cold anymore. Now it served as a balm against my fevered skin.

“It’s a scratch,” I managed around the lump in my throat. “I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking,” he countered. “You’ll catch your death. Come.” He held his hand out and I eyed it warily. “I don’t bite,” he rumbled, then paused. “Not always.”

Heat bloomed across my cold cheeks and I slid my hand in his, surprised to feel his skin against mine. He grinned, like he was enjoying my disbelief.

“Up we go, grá. Come on, easy now.” Wolfe pulled me to my feet and I swayed, staring up at him.

“You’re tall.”

Amusement danced across his features. “Aye. You’re small.”

I laughed, startled. “I’m five-foot-six, thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, shrugging. “We should go before...” He studied the treeline again and I decided I didn’t want to know what he saw.

I gathered his things, shoving them back in my bag, careful to keep them away from my bloody palm. I grabbed the ruined candles, holding them against my chest as we raced back toward my car. Rain dampened his shirt, plastering it against his skin. I almost fell again when I saw the outline of his chest through the linen, the rough cut of muscle hidden under the billowy fabric.

I tossed everything into the backseat and then threw myself inside, pushing my wet hair back from my face. Wolfe was already in the passenger seat when I settled. I jumped at the sight of him. He was soaked to the bone, but he was smiling.

“Nothing like an Irish rain,” he said, staring at the church. “I’d forgotten.”

I twisted in my seat to face him. “You’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” he assured. “I may…fade while you drive, but entering Kilmorran again should bring me right back.”

My chest seized, another bolt of fear striking through me. The storm continued to rage around us.

“Drive, Avery. Please.”

I turned the key over, flooding the interior with a delicious wave of heat. I kept my bloody palm on my lap, fingers curled protectively over the cut. It took me twice as long to get home, navigating the giant puddles and flooding roads. Wolfe flickered in and out, nearly translucent when another bolt of lightning struck. In the dark, he reformed, a quiet shadow by my side.

“Almost there,” he said, voice faint. “You’re doing well.”

I locked his praise down tight, wheel vibrating under my hand. The bumps and divots in the road became rough with the rain and I was forced to wrap my bloody hand around the wheel for the final leg of the journey.

When we reached Kilmorran, Wolfe was out of the car and by the door in a single breath. I’d want to race home too, if I were him. He’d be able to walk through it properly now. Almost as he once had.

I grabbed my bag from the back, ignoring the candles for the time being. I let us in with the old skeleton key and I waved him inside first. His heavy footsteps echoed through the entryway, rain dripping from the end of his sleeves to the floor. I dropped my bag by my feet, bone-weary and utterly exhausted.

“You need to dry off,” he said, voice so close it startled me. “Before you get sick. Please.”

“Hand first.” I had small stones stuck in my palm and they burned with every flex of my fingers.

He nodded, lips pressed into a grim line. “Allow me.”

He stalked through the castle, shoulders shifting under the thin material of his shirt. Maybe I hadn’t thought this all the way through. I’d just wanted to be able to speak to him, have a conversation, but he was as real as anyone else, dripping water to the floors and sliding his hands up the banister as he led me upstairs.