Kieran was a merciless teacher.
They trained in the courtyard, dawn light painting everything gold. Kieran moved like water, demonstrating strikes and blocks that Adrian struggled to follow.
"Again," Kieran ordered after Adrian failed to dodge for the fifth time.
"I'm trying!" Adrian panted, sweating despite the cool morning air.
"You're thinking too much. Fighting is instinct." Kieran circled him like a predator. "When you're turned, your body will be faster, stronger. But technique matters. Without it, you're just a strong target."
He lunged, and this time Adrian managed to sidestep. Barely.
"Better," Kieran praised, and the warmth in his voice made Adrian's chest tight. "Now attack me."
"I can't hurt you—"
"You can't hurt me regardless. I'm a thousand-year-old vampire. Try anyway."
Adrian threw a punch. Kieran caught his fist effortlessly, then used Adrian's momentum to flip him onto his back. Adrian hit the ground hard, air rushing from his lungs.
"Ow."
"In a real fight, you'd be dead." Kieran offered a hand, pulling Adrian up. "You telegraph your moves. Your eyes dart to where you plan to strike. Vampires will read that and counter before you finish the motion."
"How do I stop that?"
"Practice. Lots of practice." Kieran shifted into a fighting stance. "Again."
They trained for hours. By midday, Adrian was covered in bruises and Kieran was barely winded.
"Enough," Kieran said when Adrian stumbled. "You need rest."
"I can keep going—"
"You're exhausted. Rest now, train more tonight." Kieran scooped him up effortlessly, carrying him inside.
"I can walk," Adrian protested halfheartedly.
"I know. I want to carry you." Kieran's arms tightened possessively. "Humor me."
He deposited Adrian in the bath, then proceeded to strip him with clinical efficiency. Adrian was too tired to be embarrassed, though his body certainly reacted to Kieran's cool hands on his heated skin.
"Behave," Kieran murmured, noticing. "You're in no condition for what you're thinking about."
"You don't know what I'm thinking."
"Your heart rate jumped twenty beats per minute and your pupils dilated. I know exactly what you're thinking." Kieran started the water, testing the temperature. "Bath first. Then food. Then sleep."
He washed Adrian with surprising gentleness, his hands careful on bruised skin. It should have been awkward, but instead it felt intimate. Caring.
"Thank you," Adrian said quietly.
"For what?"
"Taking care of me. Training me. Not treating me like I'm fragile."
Kieran's hands stilled. "You're not fragile. You're the strongest person I've ever known. You died for me once, and now you're choosing immortality to be with me. That's not fragile—that's extraordinary."
Adrian turned in the bath, water sloshing. "Kiss me."
"You're exhausted—"
"I don't care. Kiss me."
Kieran leaned down, his lips meeting Adrian's in a slow, deep kiss that tasted of promise and forever. When they parted, his eyes were soft.
"After you're turned," Kieran said, "I'm going to make love to you for three days straight. No interruptions, no responsibilities. Just us."
"Three days?"
"I have a thousand years of fantasies to work through. Three days might not be enough."
Adrian's laugh was breathless. "I'm holding you to that."