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Moving day really moves for hot couple & friends.

"Is it common for wolves to mate with humans?" her voice quaking as she posed the question.

"Not common, but not as rare as you might think. Werewolf lore has lied about a great many truths, as you well know. Our capacity for love, is as true to our animal side as it is to our human. We love with everything we have, and for the scope of our lifetime, but with a lifetime longer than either from our ties to the netherworld."

Ash relaxed, using his answer to catch her breath. "Blaise, I warned you at the restaurant. I don't want back into your world. That's your life, and I cannot be part of it, I've seen enough. I crave you like a heroin addict reaching for a hit; knowing it could break me, but desperate for the high."

Fingers brushed against her own with a gentleness his touch rarely knew. "Ash, don't start this again. I thought we were making progress."

"Progress into my pants perhaps, but not my life. Blaise, you're not the only one with secrets; I'm just better at keeping them," she said, and this time, she slipped away, putting some distance between them.

"I may not know everything about you, but I know every inch of your body. Eight months I spent studying your flesh before you took off, disappearing like a ghost in the night. I woke to a cold bed, an empty kitchen, and a ring in place of a note on the dining room table."

Ashlynn, hid the tears in her eyes recalling how much harder that single action had been then the course of this day would be. That ring the promise of a future she had come to desire a great deal, only to have it pulled away by the anniversary of another year of life proving she had more to do than settle down.

Ashlynn faced a painting, desperate not to see the pain in his eyes, to have another vision to mark from memory to canvas. "What you said in the parking lot about me being fire? For what it's worth you're not the only one I'm running from."

"What are you so afraid of? If it isn't vampires and it isn't me, what are you running so hard from?" he asked.

Ashlynn turned around, looking him straight in the eye. "When we met, I knew, but it was like a fairy tail, a ghost story told at bedtime. My mother was disavowed along with her mother from a much larger family tree, for falling in love with mortal men. It was cold, but that was the way things were. When we met, I had yet to hit a quarter of a century, but since I've gone. . . that marker has been passed. Lucky me, unlike my mother I still have my inheritance, three generations worth because I fell in love with a man who is way more than mortal."

"What are you talking about?' he asked, those eyes that pierced so hard they could bear her naked in the light of day.

"My ancestors were witches. As of my 25th birthday, it would appear, so am I. You are not human, and my ancestors would have no problem slaying you, my love to get to me. Meanwhile, I have about as much interest in witchcraft as I have in fangs, and too many worlds trying to lay claim to my sorry ass. Look around, this apartment is shitty, my art is doomed for a storage unit and I can barely afford to live, but at least I'm not a danger to you or anyone else."

Blaise chuckled, and Ashlynn's face tightened in shock. "A witch? God, I thought I was the only thing weighing you down. Alright, well then, let me just be the first to say, there are things worth standing your ground and fighting for."

"I need a drink, can I get you something?" she asked.

That moment in the restaurant had been all she'd ever needed, to know how much she wanted him here. After the restaurant, he'd made alarmingly clear his willingness to fight for his desires. Now, even as she began to tip the iceberg on the wall between them, she knew he would stay and fight. Problem was, could she?

"Water," he offered, leaning on the wall, and watching as she pulled down dollar store glasses, and wandered over to the tap. Trying to ease her discomfort, he returned to scanning through the paintings, while she tarried in the kitchen.

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