Darius watched Paige work with eyes limned with wariness and appreciation. He understood the ceremony behind her art, even if he was incapable of emulating it. As she partially doffed her clothes he watched her, felt her body with his eyes – the lithe graceful not-quite-human nature actually more enticing now that he thought about her as of-a-kind with him. It took real, concentrated effort to remind himself that she was his student and, worse, more powerful than he was in many ways that mattered. Lust and a mild rebuking resentment warred – eventually discipline won and he looked back toward the town as she worked.<br/><br/>When she lay down, his gaze traveled back to her, swept across her concealed backside with all the hunger of a starving man. What intimacy had he had…in years, if not decades? None with students – that would be immoral, and none with other Masters – he was too weak to merit such attention and too shy to approach them for it, due to that very same power difference. Sure, he could have summoned a succubus or some other creature, or paid for it – but…let’s be honest, that was beneath him. And dangerous besides. So, he languished and suppressed the desires of his all-too masculine body. And paid the price for it now, when his spell with Paige lowered some of his guard.<br/><br/>When she finally finished her invocation and shuddered, pronouncing their dire circumstances, Darius frowned. On the one hand he wanted to comfort her…on the other…<br/><br/>Fuck it.<br/><br/>He swept down, moved close to her and guided her to his arms, encircling her with his muscular strength, allowing warmth to suffuse her. For an instant, his tenderness, his concern, and his care rose through him like a wave. But he had to balance it, to keep distance…<br/><br/><strong>“You should be more careful,”</strong>he snapped.<strong>“You could over extend yourself and then what would I do for these people? Imagine how badly it would look upon me if you died, or worse, burned out your talent here in this po-dunk village of commoners?</strong>” His tone was sour, but his heart didn’t feel any of the heat. In his heart, all he could feel was her feather  light, quavering frame – strong and supple  and so deliciously vulnerable against him.<br/><br/>Fuck.<br/>