“You no longer fear me,” he said by way of telling her it was done.
She turned to face him, curiously unashamed of her nudity. “There is naught to fear in you.”
He was the only man who would ever see her thus. Of that she was certain.
“Some have reason to refute that statement.”
“No doubt, but they are not me.”
“Nay, they are not you.”
She swallowed, finding it difficult to form the words she wanted to say, but she forced them out. “I missed you.”
“And this surprises you?” He did not sound happy by the prospect.
“It does.”
“Why?”
“I do not know you.”
“You know me too well.”
“But . . .”
“In the dreams we shared—”
“They were not dreams; I explained when we were together in the land of Chrechte spirits.”
“Call them dreams, or a different place our spirits go, but we shared our time there, aye?”
“Yes.”
“You allowed me to kiss you.”
“I have courage there I do not usually enjoy.”
“You have a sense of safety there you do not feel when you are awake.”
“I felt safe when you held me in my parents’ hut.”
“That is good to know.”
“Is it? Why?”
“You know.”
She shook her head, even as her eagle whispered a word she’d been sure the bird would never utter. Mate.
“Tell me, Una, who shares dreams among our people?”
“Our people?” she asked.
“Yes, our people. We are all Chrechte. You are an eagle. I am a brown wolf. Others among my clan are white, grey and black . . . some with differing gifts merely because of the color of their fur. In your own tribe you have ravens and eagles.”
“And hawks.” Though their numbers were even less than the eagles, as both protectors of their people had been hunted near to extinction.
“I did not know.”