“A second floor easy to reach by climbing onto the porch roof. Piece of cake to a cat.”

As he came closer to the bed, Andrea saw fully what he was wearing. Or not wearing. A T-shirt and underwear, easy to peel off for the shift, to slide back on once he made it to the roof.

“Briefs,” Andrea said. “I knew it.”

“Have you got a blanket I can wrap myself in, love? It’s bloody cold in here.”

“You’re the one who decided to turn into a cat and climb in through my window.”

“I did. Had to leave most of my clothes behind to do it too.”

He sounded so nonchalant, as though this were nothing unusual. And maybe it wasn’t to Sean. Not that Andrea could imagine any ladies locking the window to keep him out. He stood tall and tight, his hands on his hips, silhouetted against the light outside. His body made the wolf in her want to howl.

Hurried footsteps sounded in the hall, and the door of her bedroom swung open to reveal Glory, resplendent in silver pants, camisole, and gauzy robe. She was tense, poised to shift, but she relaxed when she saw Sean.

“Ah.” She gave a throaty laugh. “I guess it’s Felines for both of us tonight.”

“Sean and I are just chatting,” Andrea said before he could speak. “Everything’s under control.”

Glory’s smile spoke volumes. “Of course it is. Good night.” She turned, robe floating, and closed the door behind her.

“About the blanket,” Sean said. “It’s still bloody cold.”

“I thought you were a big, bad Feline Shifter.”

“I am. Now I’m a cold one.”

“I also thought you were leaving.”

“I never said that.” Sean sat on the edge of her bed. “You’re shaking like a leaf and you smell of fear. Tell me about these nightmares, love. After you lend me a blanket.”

He was right about the fear. Sean waking her abruptly had sent the nightmare fleeing, but Andrea couldn’t stop shivering, even though her skin was clammy with sweat. The dreams were incoherent but at the same time terrifying as hell.

Sean might say he was cold, but his body radiated warmth. So much warmth. She wanted it. Her libido noted every line of his strong, hard body; the curl of his hair at the base of his neck; the sensual mouth that had kissed her so masterfully today. Twice. But right now, she longed even more for his Shifter touch, his comfort.

She eased down a corner of the covers and moved over, inviting him in.

Sean’s eyes glittered as they flicked to her, his chest rising with a quick intake of breath. Just when Andrea thought he’d refuse, Sean took hold of the covers, lifted them, and slid into the bed with her.

Sean laid himself down next to Andrea, wondering if this weren’t the biggest mistake of his life. She had a double bed, so there was room for him, but the damn bed wasn’t that big. Not big enough that his legs didn’t touch hers, that when he put his head on the pillow, her face wasn’t inches away from his.

Her breath was warm on his cheek, her hair mussed and spilling over her pillow. She smelled of sleep, damp and sultry, and the bed was a fine place of heat, where a Shifter male could curl up and be touched by his sweetheart of a mate.

“You’re a dangerous one,” Sean said. He thought about what Dylan had said about Andrea not respecting the hierarchy, and sure enough, Andrea was gazing straight into his eyes. No evasion of the submissive, no awkwardness, no hesitancy.

“Me? Dangerous?” Andrea shrugged. “It’s cold, and if you want to talk, this is the warmest place. Anyway, there’s nothing dangerous about me.”

“You’re dangerous, because you can make the Shiftertown leader’s baby brother dance to your bidding.”

A smile touched her mouth. “Do you? Dance to my bidding?”

“I’m dancing a jig right now, love.”

Her red lips curved. “You’re the dangerous one, Sean Morrissey. Here you are climbing through my bedroom window.”

“Because I was worried about you.”

“That’s what makes you dangerous.”

Her eyes were silver in the moonlight, her face a curve of marble. Her beauty did something to Sean’s soul, and her eyes looked deep into his heart. He was never going to survive her.

Sean smoothed a lock of hair from her cheek. “Tell me about the nightmares. Do you dream about Jared? The things he did? He can’t touch you by law, Andrea, you know that, now that you’ve been mate-claimed by me. Besides, I’ll kill him if he comes near you.”

“No.” Andrea’s mouth went tight, the pucker of the word remaining as she frowned. “The nightmares aren’t about Jared. They’re about—I think about what happened today.”

That surprised him. “What, you mean with Ely? The healing?”

“I think so. But ... I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you tell me, and I’ll be the judge.”

Andrea wet her lips, the moisture gleaming in the dim light. Sean remembered kissing those lips and the warmth and pressure of her mouth in return. Her br**sts pushed at the neckline of her pajama top, and his legs told him she wore no pajama bottoms.

“I see threads,” she said. “No, that’s not right. They’re more like wires, tangling me up, trying to smother me. I can’t get away. But whenever I heal someone, I also see threads. I’m not sure if I really see them or I just picture them to help me focus. Today I saw them coming from your sword, and I used them to help heal your cousin.”