“I can’t take you any farther. The castle is too close.” Aine pulled the carthorse to a halt.

“I understand. If you can find a branch I can lean on I will be able to make it from here on my own,” Tegan said.

Aine gave him a doubtful look, but hurried to the side of the dirt road, searching under the ancient pines until she found a sturdy branch. When she returned to him, Tegan was already standing beside the cart. She handed him the branch and readied herself for the pain they would share.

“You can lessen it.” Meeting her questioning gaze he continued. “The pain-you don’t have to feel it with such intensity. Close yourself to it, much like you would close yourself to an annoying sound.” He paused, thinking, then his lips tilted up. “Like a screeching blue jay. Ignore it. Tell yourself it’s not there, and soon it will fade from your consciousness. Also, it won’t be so strong when we aren’t together. Our nearness intensifies the bond.”

Aine grinned at him. “Yes, I’ll think of you as an annoying bird.”

“Not me. The pain in my leg.” He touched her cheek. “You should smile more.”

She should have pulled away from him, but his hand was warm and it felt so right against her skin. Her body liked his nearness and she found it difficult not to lean into him.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Tegan said.

“You’re welcome,” she managed.

“I shouldn’t ask anything more of you, but I must. Give me a chance to prove that I mean you no harm. Let me earn your trust.”

“I don’t know how you could do that.”

He framed her face with both of his hands. “You know I didn’t kill your centaur friend, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I can earn your trust in the same way. Our bond will strengthen and you will be able to tell beyond any doubt if I lie or if I tell the truth in all things.”

“I don’t-” Aine began but his thumb pressing gently against her lips stopped her words.

“I am alone in Partholon. No other Fomorians are with me. Listen with your heart. Do you believe me?” Aine stared up into his eyes. It was full dark by then, but Tegan seemed to be illuminated with a light of his own. She could see into him and she knew that he wasn’t lying to her. He was truly alone in Partholon.

“I believe you.”

He let loose his breath in a rush of relief. Impulsively, he pulled her into his arms. “Thank you, my little healer.”

Just for a moment Aine let him hold her. It felt good to be in his arms-too good. Clearing her throat, she began disentangling herself. He let her go, but only to an arm’s length.

“Say you will come to me tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You must. My leg will need your care. I have no herbs or potions for healing in my cave.”

Aine frowned, looking down at his offending leg. It was torn, swollen, and blackened from the cauterization. It was a miracle that he was standing at all. A man would have been completely disabled by such an injury. Clearly, Tegan was stronger than a man, but would he be able to recover if it festered? Or would he suffer and die slowly, with Aine feeling every bit of it?

“How do I find you?”

His smile was so joyous that Aine hardly noticed the sharpness of his fangs. “I could find you anywhere, but it would be easiest for me if you would walk to the west, as near the mountains as you can and think of me.”

“On the Wastelands side or the Partholon side of the mountains?”

Tegan’s expression sobered. “Never on the Wastelands side. It’s too dangerous. The weather changes instantly. Instead of sweet deer and fat sheep there are wild boar and mountain lynx.”

Aine felt a shiver of foreboding at his warning. She sensed that there were things he wasn’t telling her. It was on the Wastelands side of the pass that Maev had been killed…

“You have nothing to fear from me. I will never drink from you against your will again, and I will protect you against anything,” he said.

She wanted to question him further, but his head snapped up. He scented the air.

“Men from the castle approach!”

“Go! Now!” Aine pulled away from him and climbed up on the cart seat. “I’ll meet the warriors and keep them away from here.”

“Tomorrow, Aine. Come to me tomorrow!” Tegan called after her.

Aine didn’t take even a moment to look back or respond. She urged the horse into a brisk trot, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and Tegan before the warriors found her.

Edan was the first of the warriors to reach her. He galloped up to the cart, looking irritated and sounding worried. She noticed the other four men just seemed bored and annoyed.

“Aine, why have you not returned to the castle?”

She blinked several times, putting on innocent surprise. “But I am returning to the castle.”

“It has been hours, and it is fully dark,” he said, now sounding more irritated than worried.

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to leave Maev.”

“Maev is dead. Nothing more can happen to her, unlike you,” Edan said severely.

“I’m sorry,” Aine repeated sheepishly.

One of the warriors she didn’t know made a scoffing sound and told Edan, “You see? The Monro said she didn’t need a watchdog.”

For the rest of the way to the castle none of them spoke and Aine focused on thinking of the pain in her leg as an annoying birdand not thinking of Tegan and her strange feelings for him.

Even though she didn’t consider Guardian Castle her home, Aine felt a very real sense of relief when the cart passed under the iron front gates and entered the square courtyard. It was almost not dreary with all the torches lit and the scent of food coming from the Great Hall.

“Developing a liking for the forest, Healer?”

The Monro stepped out of the shadows. Reeking of strong spirits, he blocked her way back to her chamber, which adjoined the infirmary.

Caught off guard, she wasn’t sure what to say to him. Then her promise to meet Tegan the next day jolted through her. “Yes. I, uh, I’m homesick and the forest reminds me of the Temple of the Muse. The pine trees are the same,” she finished inanely.

“A word of warning-this isn’t the neutered forest that surrounds the Temple of the Muse. Ask Maev.” The Chieftain’s words were slightly slurred and his smile was cruel. “I’m mistaken. You can’t ask her. She’s dead.” Chuckling to himself, he walked away.

Tegan collapsed on the floor of his cave. He needed rest. He needed blood.

He needed Aine.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on slowing his breathing and controlling the ache in his leg. She could feel it, and he didn’t want to cause her any more pain than he’d have to.

He hadn’t planned on meeting Aine-he hadn’t planned on meeting any Partholonians. He’d only wanted to escape what was coming and live out his life in peace. The loneliness had been inconsequential. The alternative was so much worse.

Until Aine-she had changed everything. He must warn her-ready her. But how? She didn’t trust him. If he told her the truth now, she would turn from him. And he couldn’t bear that-not after being bonded to her.

He shook his head, amazed anew at what had happened between them. Tegan had given up the idea of ever mating years ago. Aine was a miracle-his miracle, and he wouldn’t lose her. Their blood bond drew her to him, but Tegan knew that were it not for that exchange of blood she would have run from him, probably betrayed him to her people. So he must win her trust. Perhaps her love would come later.

He would have to act quickly. That time was running out was one thing of which Tegan was certain.