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.
Chapter Twelve
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.”
Chapter Thirteen
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.