"No, you're not," Russ insisted softly. He didn't argue with Noctis, instead, he scooted them both over so that they were sitting on the hearth. The fire was blazing hot now. Almost hotter than Russ could stand. He had started to sweat. But he didn't move. "Do you think you could manage to drink a cup of tea?" He was sorry now that he'd thought Noctis was acting up earlier just to irritate Carrick. He was obviously more injured by the cold than Russ had thought.