The morning sun filtered through the glass walls of the Icelandic lodge, casting pale golden light across the furs where Amber lay tangled in Kabir's arms. She stirred slowly, her body still humming with the memory of the frozen cavern, the ice and fire that had claimed her the night before. The runes carved into her skin had faded to pink lines, beautiful reminders of his possession. But as she lay there, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, a new hunger began to stir within her.

She turned in his arms, her eyes searching his face. He was already awake, watching her with those dark, knowing eyes that saw straight through to her soul. She had been thinking about this for days, ever since the northern lights had danced above them in Finland. A desire that had been growing, demanding to be voiced.