A genuine grin passed across Carrick's face. "She's tougher than any Spartan. She was given to me to raise when she was ten; she was already shooting wolves with crossbows - no offence."
Any humour died from his gaze at Russell's words. There was so much more they should say; so much more they needed to know and understand. But not tonight.
"Then love me, Russell," he murmured, drawing Russell close again and rolling onto his back, one hand drifting down to his lover's sex.