"Wren. You have to stop." Rowan didn't have time to think about Ciprian's words. He grabbed Wren's hand and gasped. It was so hot it almost burned Rowan's skin. "Look at me."
Wren didn't move. Rowan released his hand and placed one palm on either side of Wren's face, forcing the man to raise his chin. His eyes flickered like burning garnets behind half-closed lids, but still he didn't respond. Rowan sensed the danger of Wren's magic seething between them, but he didn't care.
Rowan cupped Wren's cheeks, surprised at how easily the touch came to him. There was no panic. No doubt. Not when it came to the man in front of him.
Wren had removed all that the night he'd pressed Rowan's head to his chest. Now all that remained was an overwhelming certainty that he wanted more.
He began to sing, hoping to lure Wren back from his shadows the way he'd done those first days in the garden. Immediately he was met with a wall of resistance as Wren's magic sought to push him away.
