HEAT FOUNTAINED INSIDE Kanyth as Perrin’s words again lashed him. He should have heeded the old druid’s warning and kept far from her. Now the full power of the forge surged through him in a bed chamber where anything, including the lady, might burn. He found the hilt of his sword and yanked it out to wrap his hands around the gleaming blade.

“Keep back from me,” he told Perrin when she shot to her feet.

The blue light from his skinwork turned white-hot as it crawled over his shoulders and down the length of his arms, collecting in the fists that held the iron. He clenched his jaw as his flesh and bones funneled it into the sword, heating the tempered metal until it glowed dark red.

She hurried away from him, thank the Gods, only to return with a basin of water. For a moment she looked as if she might hurl it at him, but then she bent and placed it on the floor, sliding it so that it stopped beneath the now scarlet-gold sword.

Kanyth’s chest heaved as he fought the lethal power. The blade began to bend in his grip, cracks forming and disappearing as the iron softened. A shard split from the honed tip and fell into the basin, causing the water to boil and steam.

Perrin stood at a safe distance, but never took her gaze from him. “What else can I do?”

The sound of her voice seemed to appease the forge, for Kanyth felt the power at last begin to ebb.

“Speak now,” he said tightly. “Tell me a tale that…willnae rile me.”

“Rowan and I grew up in a little town in upstate New York,” she said quickly but her voice soft. “My mother’s place was on the edge of town, next to the woods. My sister loved that. I think she spent more time with the trees than she did with people. I liked to pick flowers and make little crowns out of them. And I loved to watch the fireflies. They’d start lighting up just before sunset. Sometimes there’d be so many that the woods looked like a magical fairyland.”

The blade drooped on either side of his hands, and the hot color of the metal dulled, turning to a blackened bronze. The ink crawling under his tunic stilled as if it also wished to listen to her.

Kanyth watched her eyes, still focused on him. “How came you to dance?”

“I don’t know. My mother said I started as soon as I could walk,” Perrin said. “When Rowan was little I’d put on a dance show for her in this meadow in the woods. She’d sit with a bunch of our dolls to be my audience. She was probably bored to death, but she always cheered and clapped at the end.” Her lips curved. “Sometimes I’d trip and fall on purpose, just to make her laugh.”

At last the blade cooled, and Kanyth’s hands did the same. Then came the pain as his burned flesh twisted and scarred, building into a throbbing agony. Unwilling for her to see the consequences of his power, he dropped the distorted sword and bent to thrust his hands into the basin. Perrin knelt down on the other side of the steam, her gaze lifting to his face.

“Should I get Emeline?”

“’Tis naught for her to do.”

He avoided her gaze as he lifted his dripping fingers from the water. Despite the welcome relief of the healing, he felt raw and exposed now, as if he crouched naked in front of her.

“You keep saying you can’t take a mate.” Before he could stop her, she took hold of him. “It’s not because I’m too skinny, or anything to do with me. It’s because of your hands.”

“I melt iron,” he told her flatly. “What think you I’d do to your pretty skin?”

“And this happens every time you use it, doesn’t it? When you’re back there working in the forge?” When he sighed and nodded she stroked her fingers over his. “You burn your hands every day like this, and you feel it. How can you stand it?”

That she cared more for his hide than her own bewildered him.

“I dinnae for long, now that water heals me. ’Twas far worse in my mortal life.” He pulled her to her feet. “You neednae pity me, lass. ’Tis my lot, and the druids trained us to endure what females cannae.”

“You think I don’t know what pain is?” Perrin released his hands. “I danced twelve hours a day when I was performing, and that was before the actual show. Sprained ankles, inflamed tendons, a torn rotator cuff.” She waved dismissively at her feet. “Not to mention stress fractures of the metatarsals. Pain is part of the life.”

He saw the truth of it in her eyes and was appalled. “All this, for dancing?”

“I didn’t feel it until after I was finished,” Perrin said simply. “Water helped me, too, but not as much. Every night I soaked my feet in a bucket of ice water so they didn’t swell too much, and to stop any bleeding. Performing for hours is hard on the feet. I never healed properly until the show wrapped, so I went through a lot of toe shoes. I could wear a pair only a few times before the bloodstains started to show on the outside.”

Kanyth looked down at her bare feet, which appeared as delicate and perfect as the rest of her. Traveling through the sacred grove portal must have healed her, but to know of her past suffering made him see her differently.

“You’ve much courage, my lady.”

“Enough for ten lasses, or so I’m told.” She took a step closer. “I like it better when we’re not yelling at each other. How about you?”

“Aye.” Without thinking he caught a lock of her rose-gold hair and couldn’t help rubbing the soft, bright strands between his fingers. When she didn’t flinch he asked, “You’re no’ afraid of my touch?”

“If you set me on fire, I will be,” Perrin promised, and rubbed her cheek against his hand. “I don’t think that’ll happen. It didn’t yesterday, or last night.”

Kanyth had never put his hands on a female, but before she could blink he had her lovely face between his palms. Despite his power, and the countless times it had burned him, his hands remained acutely sensitive. He gloried in the feel of her skin, so thin and fragile, like the delicate muscle and bones beneath it. Blood rushing up to tint her cheeks warmed his palms, as did her quickened breath. Everything about her made him acutely aware of his own strength, and the manner in which his body hardened, eager for more of her.

“You should run from me,” he murmured as he stroked her temples with his thumbs. “Only then I’d chase you again, and we’d end in the bed instead of the loch.”

She took in a shaky breath. “We could skip the running and chasing part.”

The blanket fell away as he pulled her against him and put his mouth on hers. She opened for him, as sweetly and eagerly as she’d done in the night. He gathered her up, spreading one hand over her back and twining the other in her hair. That but a thin layer of linen separated him from her nakedness rammed a bolt of aching need into his cock, engorging it until he thought it might burst through his trews.

She took his tongue and his caresses as she gripped his hair, holding him her willing prisoner again. From her throat came the most delicious sound that moaned against his lips and sank into his heart. Lifting her up gave him more of her lips, her throat, her smooth shoulder. He clamped an arm under her tight, firm buttocks and turned to carry her to the bed.

She took her mouth from his. “Kanyth, we’re going to make love.”

What a pretty name she had for facking. “Aye, now.” He took another kiss and many steps before she denied him her lips again. He drew back, and saw pain in her eyes. “You said you didnae fear my hands.”

“I don’t. They feel amazing on me. I never want you to stop touching me.” She put her fingers on his mouth. “What happens to us if we do this? If we go to bed together?”

“We’ll be made very happy. Then we shall sleep, and wake to love again. I’ll have a maid bring us food and drink. Aye, for all that I want you, we may never leave this chamber.” She’d claimed not to be a virgin, so why did she play coy now? He set her down on her feet but kept her in his arms. “Perrin, you feel as I do. You say you want me, lass. By the Gods, take me.”

“It’s not you.” She reached inside his tunic. “It’s this.”

Her marked palm pressed against his skinwork. The burst of sizzling sensation made him jerk, and abruptly cleared the fog of lust from his head. He didn’t know how he had gone so quickly from being furious with her to seducing her.

“What happens after we make love?” she asked again.

“’Twill all but seal the mating bond,” he admitted. “I’ve but to name you my wife, and so shall you be.”

“That’s it. Okay.” She took in a quick breath. “I want to make love. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as you. But we’ve been together like this less than one day. I’m a mortal, which means I’ll grow old and die. You won’t. I’m from a future that someday I have to go back to, and your clan is here. I can’t stay in this time, and you can’t come with me to mine. How could you possibly name me your wife?” Before he could answer, she did. “You can’t.” Her eyes searched his. “Agreed?”

What Kanyth wanted was her naked, under him, and crying out his name. His hands ached to touch her now, to map her every inch, and stroke that smooth skin. His mouth hungered for her kisses, and his cock pulsed so hard he thought he could hear it now. It tore at him to answer her, but he did.

“Aye.”

“Good,” she said, even though her look didn’t. “It’s the right thing to do.” She moved away from him.

He watched her as she went to the garments she had put to dry by the fire, and pulled a gown over her shift. Something ugly rose inside him to see her so cool and calm while he yet burned for her.

“You reckoned this while I acted the over-eager lad?”

“No, I was busy having my mind blown.” Perrin straightened out her skirts before she showed him her hand. The scarred circle of flames pulsed with red-gold light. “The forge lit up my engagement ring.”

As he cursed under his breath she moved past him and left the chamber.

* * *

Perrin made her way to Emeline’s room, and slipped inside expecting to find it empty. Instead her friend sat on the end of her bed and was pulling on some boots.

“Hey, can I borrow another pair of slippers?” She looked at the tidy stack of clothing next to the nurse’s travel keg. “You’re leaving?”

“For a few hours,” Emeline said, nodding. “Ru sent a dove asking me to return and report to Brennus and Cade about the latest attacks. It seems they’re planning to do something about them, but they need details. I’ll be back before nightfall.” She handed Perrin a pair of hand-knitted socks along with the slippers. “Your color is better, but you really should go back to bed. You’ve had a very trying day.”

“I’m not going anywhere near a bed.” She didn’t want to talk about what had happened with Kanyth, so she asked, “How is Wynda doing?”

“She regained consciousness after we moved her back to her room, but she couldn’t remember what happened. I think she might have a concussion.” Emeline grimaced. “I should look in on her before I go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Perrin offered. “I can sit with her until you get back, too.”

The nurse eyed her. “You’re not trying to avoid anyone, are you?”

“I’ve already talked to Kanyth, and we’re good.”

Good and screwed, Rowan would have said. But as much as Perrin had hated pulling away from him, she also knew she’d done the right thing. They had insane chemistry, but everything else would just end up tearing them apart.

“Just let me put on these socks and slippers first,” Perrin said. “My feet are freezing.”

Emeline walked with her to the back of the stronghold, where the household staff had their living quarters. Perrin noticed that all the doors had been left open and peeked in a few. While small, the rooms looked tidy and comfortable, with plain but well-made furnishings, sturdy storage trunks and warm blankets on every bed.

“The laird takes good care of his people,” she said to Emeline as the nurse stopped and looked in one of the last chambers. “He has a heart of gold, doesn’t he?”

“Aye, when you can find it under all that lace and velvet.” The nurse hesitated, and then entered the room. “Wynda, lass, I hate to wake you, but I must leave for a bit. My friend, Mistress Perrin, will stay with you while I’m away.”

The candle on the stool beside the chambermaid’s bed showed a figure curled up under the coverlet, but the maid didn’t move.

Perrin followed her friend inside. “You and I met before, Wynda, at the loch. Believe it or not we fell in the water together.”

“Lass?” Emeline tried again.

She reached over and gently shook the girl’s shoulder, and then tugged back the coverlet. When Wynda still didn’t respond, Emeline eased her over onto her back.

Perrin choked back a cry as she saw the maid’s still face, and the way her eyes stared up at nothing.

The nurse picked up her wrist and quickly pressed two fingertips against it. “No pulse,” she whispered as she stared down. “But when I left her, she was fine.” She gently moved the hair back from Wynda’s gash, bending down to inspect it. “It was only a concussion.” She shook her head. “I don’t–” The nurse went still. “Perrin, hand me that candle.” When she did Emeline held it close to the maid’s face. “She has petechiae in her eyes—burst blood vessels.”

With the light Perrin now saw how swollen and mottled her neck looked. “Could she have choked on something?”

Emeline carefully tilted the maid’s head back to examine her throat. “No. This bruising came from someone’s hands. She’s been strangled.”