Cassian’s eyes flickered open, a grim smile stretching his lips as the wound disappeared entirely, leaving only bare, unblemished skin. Even the blood he’d lost was gone. It was as if he’d never stabbed himself.
“Lord have mercy on us all.” Gavina shifted closer still and then reached out, touching the spot with her fingertips, as if to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I’m immortal, My Lady,” Cassian murmured. However, his gaze was now upon Aila. “I was cursed over a thousand years ago. Aila wanted to know why I pushed her away, why I can’t give her my heart … and this is the reason.” His attention never wavered. “I had a wife once. We lived together for fifty years before old age took her from me. I thought I knew what binding myself to her meant … but I didn’t understand what it is to remain young and healthy while the woman you love withers before you. And when she died, I wasn’t prepared for the agony. It broke me … and I swore I’d never love like that again.”
Silence followed this explanation, interrupted only by the twittering of the early dawn chorus. Aila stared at Cassian. She understood his words, yet she could barely take them in. She was still reeling from the fact that he’d stabbed himself and then healed with the rising of the sun.
Heart galloping, she slowly reached out and, like Lady Gavina, touched the place where he’d stabbed himself. The skin was warm, healthy.
She couldn’t take it in.
“Ye are the devil,” Jean whispered, a tremble in her voice. “Only Satan could rise from the dead like that.”
Cassian huffed a humorless laugh before pushing himself up and relacing his vest. “I wish that were true, Jean,” he murmured. “It would certainly make for a happier existence than my current one.”
“Lucifer!” Jean’s tone turned shrill now.
Aila tore her attention from Cassian to see that Jean was backing away, pointing an accusing finger at him. “The Angel of Darkness is among us.”
“I’m not the devil,” Cassian replied, impatience creeping into his tone. “I’ve already explained what I am.”
Jean’s pointed finger started to shake. Her face was a mask of revulsion. Aila tensed. Jean had been through a lot in the past two days. She’d lost her lover, been forced to flee through the wilderness, and had now watched a man rise from the dead. It was too much for her.
“Jean,” Aila moved toward the maid, reaching for her. “Please, calm yerself.”
Jean shook her off. “Ye spread yer legs for him … that makes ye Satan’s consort.”
Elizabeth drew in a shocked breath at this revelation; clearly, Lady Gavina hadn’t told her about Aila and Cassian.
Aila’s cheeks flamed, and she recoiled as if burned. She hadn’t expected Jean to turn on her.
“Enough, lass.” Elizabeth turned to her maid, her tone sharp. “We don’t need yer hysteria on top of everything else. Get ahold of yerself.”
“I’ll not stay in his presence.” Jean continued to back away from Cassian, her gaze flicking from face to face. “And if ye do, he’ll steal yer souls away.”
And with that, the young woman turned on her heel and fled.
“Jean!” Elizabeth started after her. “Wait!”
XXIX
A LONELY THING
AILA AND GAVINA remained under the oak with Cassian. Both women were seated now. The shock of this discovery had made Aila’s legs go weak. She wasn’t sure she could actually get up and walk away.
“We should go after them,” Aila said after a long pause. “Jean will come to grief on her own.”
“You won’t catch her,” Cassian replied, a wry edge to his voice. “And she’d rather starve out in the wild than suffer Lucifer’s company. We can’t force her to remain with us.”
Aila rounded on him. “How can you make light of this?”
He merely cocked an eyebrow in response.
Gavina cleared her throat. “So, this is real, Cassian? Ye haven’t just worked some elaborate trick for our benefit?”
He shook his head. “I’m not a warlock, My Lady. The only power I wield is to heal from my injuries … age and sickness don’t touch me, but I can’t enchant anyone.” His attention