Nora's POV
"Too warm?" James asks, standing beside the crackling fireplace with the iron poker still gripped in his hand. He just added another thick log to the flames dancing in our bedroom hearth. I'm curled up in bed, clutching the silk sheets against my naked chest, mesmerized by the way the orange glow flickers across the walls. After stripping off my clothes moments ago, I'd planned to drift right into sleep, but now that I'm horizontal, exhaustion seems to have abandoned me entirely.
"Perfect temperature," I respond, offering him a soft smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes.
"Just say the word if it gets too intense," he murmurs, setting the poker aside before padding back toward our bed. Zerra has claimed her usual spot on the hardwood floor near the stone hearth, and I know my other familiars will migrate here soon, drawn to the warmth like moths to flame.
