LYRE
Jack-Eye steps forward, hands raised. "Let's all calm down."
I ignore him. "Do you want to send her back to intensive care? Because that's what will happen if you drain her again. Energy transference isn't a joke."
Caine's jaw works as he processes this, his desire to touch Grace warring with his need to keep her safe. It's almost endearing how much his instincts conflict with each other.
Finally, he moves to a cushion near Grace—close, but not touching—and sits with the stiff posture of someone expecting an attack at any moment.
"Where is Fenris?" Grace asks, leaning forward but keeping her hands to herself.
"Recuperating," Caine answers shortly. His gaze never leaves her face, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. "He used a lot of energy."
