With Epona’s urn clutched in her arms, Aine walked through the front gate.

“Healer, where are you off to?”

Aine sighed at the sound of Edan’s all too familiar voice. Carefully, she covered the open top of the urn with an edge of her cloak. Her face a mask of polite neutrality, she turned to look up at where the warrior called down at her from the gate watch station.

“I’m going to Maev’s pyre to collect some of her ashes. Her Herdsmaster will most likely send for them, and it would be respectful to keep them ready for him.”

“You’re probably right.” He glanced up at the morning sky. “At least you have plenty of time until dusk. Be sure you’re back by then. I’m hunting in Maev’s place today. I won’t have time to come fetch you.” Edan smiled, showing that he was no longer annoyed with her.

Aine nodded, smiled, and called “Happy hunting” to him before turning away.

Edan’s newfound attention was ill-timed. Until he’d taken notice of her, no one-outside the few minor injuries and illnesses she’d dealt with-had had much to do with Aine. The men ignored her; the women made no friendly overtures towards her. Actually, the women were particularly odd. Instead of loosening up and accepting her, they seemed to do the opposite. The longer she’d been there, the less she’d seen of the women. That was yet another reason why she and Maev had become such good friends so quickly.

Maev…she felt terribly guilty about using her as an excuse. I will collect her ashes she promised herself as she stepped off the road and entered the forest. Circling around until she was out of sight of the castle, Aine left the forest and headed to the edge of the austere Trier Mountains.

Aine thought of Tegan.

It was easy to think of him. She’d done little else since leaving him. She should have been terrified of Tegan, or at least disgusted by him. Aine was neither. Of course it was because of the blood they’d exchanged that she felt like this. Aine’s stomach fluttered as she remembered his lips and teeth against her skin and the erotic pull of him drinking from her. Her mind insisted she was only going to him to treat his wounds. Her body had a different agenda.

The pain in her leg had just become impossible to ignore when he spoke.

“Aine! Over here, my little Healer.”

Tegan’s voice led her into the rocky recesses formed at the base of the mountain range. He appeared before her like something out of a dark dream-mysterious and tantalizing. He held out a hand, beckoning her deeper into the shadows. Aine hesitated, struggling to sort through the wash of emotions that seeing him filled her with.

“I can not come out there to you. Direct sunlight is harmful to my people, and in my weakened state it would cause me much pain.” His lips tilted up in that alluring half smile she remembered so well. “It would cause us much pain, and I would rather spare you that.”

She joined him in the shadows. They stared at each other. Aine was more than a little shaken by how badly she wanted to touch him.

“Have you lost the ability to speak?” he asked softly.

“No! I-I see that your leg is better,” she blurted, even though her eyes had not left his face. “I brought medicines.” Aine nervously held up the urn.

Tegan didn’t even glance at it. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“I had to.”

“To heal me?”

“Yes.” And to touch you and be with you and see you smile again.

“Come, my cave is close.”

Tegan led her through a crevasse that cut deeply into the slate colored mountains. He moved slowly, heavily favoring his injury. Because of the narrowness of the path she couldn’t walk beside him, but followed close behind. His wings mesmerized her. They were huge…dark. She’d never imagined anything like them. She had only brushed against them briefly last night and she wondered what it would be like to touch them on purpose-to stroke them.

She almost ran into Tegan when he stopped abruptly. He looked over his shoulder at her. She felt a breathless thrill at the passion reflected in his amber eyes.

“I can feel your desire. It’s making it very difficult for me not to take you in my arms.”

Aine forgot to breathe. “Your wings are beautiful.” She watched them shiver, as if her words had been a caress. Surprised, she took an involuntary step back.

“Please don’t fear me. We are bound, you and I. I would tear these wings from my body before I harmed you.”

“Could you do that?” She stared at his wings. “They seem so much a part of you.”

“To my people wings are the seat of our soul. Destroy my wings and you will probably destroy me.”

He’d given her the gift of his vulnerability and it frightened her terribly. Not for herself, but for him. What would have happened if the bear trap had closed around one of his wings and ripped it off? It made her sick just thinking about it.

“Aine, are you worried for me?”

She pulled her gaze from his wings and met his eyes. “It’s just that they’re so…out there. If your wings are that important you’d think they’d be better protected.”

Tegan laughed. “You’d be surprised. I’m not usually this helpless.” Still chuckling to himself, he continued down the narrow path.

They hadn’t gone much farther when Tegan told her, “You’ll have to bend down to enter the cave, but it widens soon.”

She watched him crouch and then disappear into what looked to be nothing more than an ordinary niche in the side of the mountain base. She ducked and went after him. After only a few feet the entrance spilled into a large, oblong room. There was a round opening in the ceiling, but it only let in a weak, indirect light. Mostly it served as an escape for the smoke from the well-banked fire that gave soft light and ample heat. She heard falling water and saw that the rear wall was wet with a steady waterfall which ran out through a crack in the rock floor. Along another wall were strips of smoked meat interspersed with drying herbs. The cave smelled pleasantly of pine smoke and spice.

“How long have you been here?” she asked as she began to unload the urn.

Tegan was gingerly lowering himself onto a pallet of furs. “Two full passes of the seasons.”

She blinked in surprise. “And no one knows?”

“Only you. I rarely go out into the Partholon forest, and was only there yesterday because winter is coming and the hunting there is better than the Wastelands side of the mountains.”

Aine began examining his leg. “So there are really no other Fomorians here with you.”

“You said you believed me yesterday.”

“I did. I do. It’s just that this is all so incredible.”

He sucked in a sharp breath as she poured a cleansing solution over his wound. Aine grimaced, but didn’t pause until the leg was clean and dressed. Then she sat back, breathing as heavily as Tegan. She studied him with Healer’s eyes. His wound was better today, but he looked worse. There were bruised shadows under his eyes and his skin had lost much of the luster it had the previous day.

“I’ll be better now that you are here.”

She frowned at him. “Stop reading my mind.”

“I’m reading your face, not your mind.” Tegan smiled. “Sit beside me and tell me about yourself.”

Aine sat, noticing that the tip of his wing was almost touching her knee. “I’m a Healer,” she said, trying to keep her attention from his wing. “I grew up at Laragon Keep. The women in my family have been Healers for generations.”

“A legacy of kindness and strength.” Tegan covered her hand with his as if it was a completely natural thing to do. “I have been given such an amazing gift in you.”

Aine was going to pull her hand away, but then she felt it. His pulse against her skin. And in that pulse she also felt the beat of his need for her.