Ezra grunted. “You wanted this, Quinn?”
“Yes. I was enjoying it, a lot.” Maybe too much, but adding that wouldn’t help this situation at all.
Ezra was here, in the heart of Westwater territory… alone. My heart lurched, thudding once before racing with fear for him.
“How did you get in here?” Fear and unhealthy humor made my voice shake.
“I shadow-walked.” His voice was calm, too calm. “You were in pain.”
“It’s—” I squeezed the table, wishing I could see his face. “It’s complicated. It’s a deep-tissue massage. A good one.” Tension crept back up my back, despite my attempt to stay relaxed. “Ezra.” My voice cracked when I said his name. “You shouldn’t be here. The Westwaters closed their borders… they’re going to hurt you.” My shred of humor died, and my body knotted back up. “Please, I don’t want you hurt.”
“That’s all my hard work gone,” the masseur mumbled.
Ezra whispered something to the masseur, who whispered something back. Ezra’s sword hissed back into its sheath. My stomach dropped; he’d made himself an easier target.
“I could scream,” the masseur said.
“You won’t,” Ezra said confidently.
“Ezra—” I started to beg him to leave.
“You felt her muscles,” Ezra said, cutting me off. “I feel her magic. Work with me, or die for touching her.”
I froze.
“You’re as unreasonable as the rumors say,” the masseur said, controlling the panic in his voice. “You appear in my home, threaten me, and then expect me to help you?”
Ezra’s calloused hand pressed against my bare back, rough, unyielding, nothing like the masseur’s polished touch. Tingles sparked over my skin at the contact. “I’ll handle this. Tell me where to press. I don’t need your gifts. My knowledge of muscle and pain is enough.”
The man scoffed. “Teach you or die. I guess I have a student until the rest of the family finds you and kills you for trespassing.”
“Let them try,” Ezra growled.
I rolled my eyes, but some of the tension turned into hesitant excitement. Ezra was risking everything to stay.
“Start by washing your hands,” the masseur said evenly. “At least roll up your sleeves; even better, take off all that leather. You want nothing to drag on her skin that is not in your control.”
“And leave me defenseless for your family?”
I had no idea what body language the two exchanged, but after a beat of silence, the sound of leather unstrapping and clothing dropping to the floor filled the room.
“Hells,” the masseur breathed.
I turned my head again, catching sight of Ezra’s perfect upper body.
Ezra put his hand on my back. “Head back down, now.”
I put my head back in the hole.
Oil slicked my skin, but the fresh, cold drizzle made me shiver, nerves sparking awake. Ezra slowly lowered his hands, rough heat against the slippery glide, and my magic flared in answer. The room was warm, almost stifling, yet power still surged out of me, spilling into the cauldrons until crystals blazed with rainbow light.
It wasn’t enough, but it was a start.
The masseur let out a slight gasp before humming appreciatively.
“Follow the line until you hit the knot,” the masseur instructed.
Ezra hesitated, then pressed deeper, rougher. It took him a few minutes to get the pressure right, but the shadow mage was a quick study. His calloused palms carried a rough, intimate heat no professional could mimic.
