"How is it possible that I can see?" She glanced at the bit of braided fur in her hand. "How long will it last?"
"Until sundown."
"No longer?"
He shook his head. The power in the cuttings of the wolf's fur grew weaker with time.
"What sort of magic is it that grants me my sight?"
"The power that lies in the hair of the wolf." Odd, he thought, that in his human form he lacked the same ability. "The power within your own blood. I wove the two of them together, then cast a spell upon it, to quicken it."
"My blood? Where did you get my blood?"
"It was on the blade of the knife." He did not tell her how tantalizing he had found the scent of her blood or how frightened he had been at the way it called to him. Nor did he tell her that he had licked her blood from the knife. It had sizzled through him like the purest fire. The memory of it thrilled him even as it repulsed him, and he shook it from his mind to examine more closely later, when he was alone.
"And now, Channa Leigh," he said quietly. "Will ye now grant me my boon?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as he sat down beside her. Moving slowly, he slipped his arm around her waist, his hand splayed over her stomach.
Her heartbeat grew rapid. Her mouth grew dry. Every nerve in her body seemed to come alive as she waited for his kiss. He lowered his head toward hers. He kept his eyes open, and so did she. His eyes were as green as the leaves on the trees. They drew her in, made her think of cool spring nights under starry skies. His kiss was light, his lips warm and firm. He demanded nothing of her, only the touch of her lips against his. But it wasn't enough. She wanted more. She deepened the kiss. His eyes grew darker. His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her closer.
With a sigh, her eyelids fluttered down and she leaned in to him, her hands spreading across his back, her fingers kneading his flesh.
He groaned softly. Lifting her onto his lap, he kissed her again, his tongue stroking her lower lip, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her.
It was a kiss unlike any she had ever known. It burned away the memory of Ronin's chaste kiss and forever after spoiled her for any other.
She was breathless when they parted. Feeling bereft, she stared into his eyes, felt herself falling into the clear emerald depths. She felt the whisper of his power slide over her skin, heard the echoes of his lonely childhood, saw the small Cimmerian corner of his soul where his uncertainty lived, but before she could explore it further he drew his gaze away from hers.
"Something troubles you," she said, her voice tinged with amazement.
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "What makes ye say that?"
"I saw it when I looked into your eyes. There is a dark place deep within you."
He did not deny it.
"What is it that troubles you?"
Lifting her from his lap, he stood and began to pace.
She sat down on her blankets and looked up at him, her brow furrowed. "Will you not tell me?"
"There is a darkness within me," he admitted. "More than the darkness of uncertainty. It is a love for the shadows of the night, for the dark magic that lingers just below my awareness." He held out his hands, palms up, and stared down at them. "The darkness calls to something within me that I do not understand. Sometimes..." He dragged his hand over his jaw, wondering how to explain the unexplainable.
"You are tempted by dark powers?"
"Aye."
"But why?"
He shook his head. "In here," he placed his hand over his heart, "I know that good is more powerful than evil, but still the darkness calls to me, tempting me to do that which can only be done through the power of darkness, to rise up and unleash the full power within me, the consequences to others be damned. I could destroy the village with the wave of my hand, enslave its people, cause famine and flood."
He dragged his hand over his face as if to block out the images his words had conjured. "I have ever used my powers for good, for healing. But there is another power, a dark power that tempts me. It calls to me in the lonely hours before the