At least he was vaguely aware of table manners, taking up the knife and fork to begin shoveling food into his mouth as though it might be snatched away from him at any moment. "I don't believe it is a problem that can be solved," he managed through his mouthfuls. "I am what I am, a defective wolf. How can that possibly be corrected?"

"You are no more defective than I am," she replied, dropping a hint that they might have more in common than either of them could have predicted. She sighed as she turned her attention to her own breakfast, unsure how much she wanted to tell him. She wanted to trust him, but how much did she know about him really' She didn't think he was lying. He had no reason to lie, unless he had been sent here to hurt her.

"I am the result of too much inbreeding among a small pack," he told her, washing down his breakfast with a mouthful of coffee. It was an acquired taste, yes, but right now, it was just handy. "And you do not seem in any way defective to me, Marissa. Unusual, perhaps, but that is not a bad thing."

"Things are not always what they seem, Emrys," she told him, reluctant to share her own story just yet, a little surprised he was so willing to share his; and yet, he had risked his own life to defend her against the kind of hunters who wouldn't have thought twice about killing her.

"The world would be a dull place indeed if we were all exactly as we seem," he chuckled, finally slowing in his eating now he seemed to have convinced himself that she wasn't going to change her mind and run him out of the cabin. "But for all the bad, there is a lot of good. I have had more kindness from strangers than cruelty. Your own kindness is more than I deserve. I meant what I said last night. With your leave, I will empty and remove my traps this morning, and not hunt on your land again. I did not mean to trespass, and I will not do it willingly."

Like a cat, she picked at her breakfast, eating a little of this and a little of that, her appetite momentarily spoiled by the topic of conversation. "I am not concerned about your traps, except that I do not wish others like myself to fall prey to such things. There are a few others like myself who hunt in these woods. I try to keep them safe for those of our kind," she told him, making a point to include him as one like her. Though he was a wolf and not a cat, it made little different to her.

"I understand that," he nodded. "My traps are not made for large prey, nor do they cause harm or death. I trap rabbit and mink - enough to feed myself, and their fur is a commodity people are prepared to pay for. I grew up among weres, Marissa. I would never intentionally cause harm."

"Then you are free to leave your traps where they are, for now," she told him, though she was not expecting him to stay long. He was likely to move on, as soon as he was healed. A few days, at most. "Have you never considered a different way of life" It must grow tiresome moving from place to place." She ought to know - she'd been a drifter herself, once upon a time.

"Well, they need checking. Anything caught in them is easy prey for predators." He did not just live off the land; he lived with the land. Her question made him smile wistfully. "It is a dream, to have a home," he admitted. "But where could I go that I would not be a danger" How could I keep people from stumbling across me during my dangerous night' It is safer for the world if I keep on the move, no matter how weary I am of this life."

"What if I told you there was a way to fix the defective gene in your DNA?" she asked. Though she knew very little of such things, this was Rhy'Din, and anything was possible, if not with the help of healers and mages, then with technology. She was proof such things were possible, though she had not shared that with him just yet.

He paused, looking at her as though she had grown a second head. "The ....what in my what?" he asked, trying not to sound like a complete idiot. His lifestyle was more medieval than futuristic, no matter how many basic conveniences he had a passing understanding of. "I don't understand."

"The defect that causes your mind to shift, but not your body," she explained further, trying to put it into terms he could understand. "There might be a way to fix it," she said leaning toward him, one hand outstretched as she spoke before remembering herself and pulling back. "I understand if you are wary. I would be wary, too."

He considered her for a moment, aware that she had almost touched him but apparently thought the better of it. "I am not a very educated man," he admitted reluctantly. "Marissa, I cannot read or write. What numbers I know can be done in my head. I know how to live off the land, to live with my hands and my heart. Technology - anything beyond that bathroom through there, or the ovens I have seen others using - it is beyond me to comprehend, much less understand. And I have never yet met a wizard who was trustworthy."

"Reading and writing can be taught to a mind that is intelligent and willing to learn," she argued, though it wasn't completely necessary. A thought came to her and she smiled suddenly. "I have a friend who is happy to be a simple farmer. All his life he dreamed of breeding horses. It was only coming here to Rhy'Din that made that dream possible. Don't you have a dream, Emrys" Something you'd like to do more than anything else?" If he admitted he was happy in the life he was living, she would leave it at that, but she had a feeling he longed for something more than mere survival.

Emrys smiled, conceding that she had a point there. "I am happy for your friend," he acknowledged quietly. "And I would be lying if I said I was content in my life. Everyone I have ever met has had the one thing that I will never have - a home. I was rejected by my pack; any human I grow close to will die if they meet me at the wrong time; any wolf or wild creature will kill me, and rightly so. I have wandered for ten years. My dream would be to put down roots; to have a home. For anyone I might love to be safe."

"Then let me try to help you," she found herself saying before she could take the words back, finding herself aching for him and wanting to help if she could. She wasn't afraid of the wolf in him, understanding it the way she did. She reached out to touch his hand before remembering herself, her expression hopeful.

It was not in Emrys to be so open so quickly, but then, he had never met anyone who listened as though what he had to say meant something beyond simply words to fill a silence. Yes, she was beautiful, but he wasn't interested in her beauty. It was her sadness that intrigued him; her willingness to help a complete stranger she might never have run across if he hadn't been trespassing on her land in the first place. He spotted the reach of her hand, turning his until his palm lay open to her in invitation. "On one condition," he told her quietly. "That you allow me to help you, in whatever manner you see fit. I am not too proud to deny when I need help, though I would never ask for it. I think you are very much the same."

She had helped others before him, though their problems had been significantly different from his. There was something inside her that drove her to help those who seemed like hopeless causes - those like him and herself - as well as those she cared for. She smiled as he opened his hand to her, and she settled her palm against his, a little amused at his offer to help her in return. "We have dishes to do and three bodies to dispose of, for starters, but you aren't doing anything until that wound is healed."

His fingertips stroked against her inner wrist, surprised that she had taken the invitation, and touched by it, too. "How, exactly, do you plan to prevent me from doing anything for the next day?" he asked with a faint grin. "Am I supposed to curl up with my nose on my bottom like a good dog for the next few hours?"

"I will sit on you, if I have to, but I thought you might start with a bath," she suggested, that smirk of amusement tugging at her lips again. The predators and scavengers would take care of the corpses for now, just as they were designed to do. "And I did not say you should do nothing, but if you try to do too much, that wound will open up again," she reminded him, tugging her hand away so that she could finish her breakfast. "Still hungry?"

To his credit, he hadn't moved so much as a muscle, not even blocking the doorway from where he leaned against the wall outside the room. He was glad he had not followed her into the room when he saw that slight stiffening that betrayed an animal caught in a corner with nowhere to run. "Easy, kitten, what kind of girl do you take me for?" he asked her with another gentle tease. "Scoot, it's time I washed myself before you try to do it for me."

"Girl?" she echoed again, assuming he was trying to put her at east with a joke. "I will be extremely disappointed if there's a female hiding under all that hair," she blurted without thinking. "Get over yourself, wolf," she told him, shoving the towel and washcloth at him, sidestepping around him to exit the bathroom. "I've met dogs who smelled better than you," she told him, patting his cheek before moving past him to let him have his bath in peace.

"You still petted me, though," he called after her with a chuckle, though somewhere inside him he felt a thrill at her unexpected implication that she was attracted to him. Grinning to himself, he closed and locked the door, and turned to the task of washing himself and making himself at least more acceptable for company.

She had even left him with a razor, but it was a woman's razor and not likely to be much good in his case. Outside the bathroom, she drew a deep breath, almost as if she was relieved he was finally hidden behind a locked door. She wasn't sure what it was about him that was affecting her in such a way. Was it only loneliness and the craving for companionship or was it something more" She hadn't felt attracted to a man in years, purposely keeping herself at a distance. She lingered near the door for a moment, hearing him turn the lock and wondering what he feared from her, before moving back to the kitchen to clean up from breakfast.

In deference to his companion's sensitive nose - or perhaps because he wanted to make a good impression on her - Emrys was in the bathroom for a good hour or more. His activities were punctuated by the sound of splashing for the first hour, but suspiciously quiet for the time that followed. Well, all but one squeak of wet foot on floor and the corresponding thump and curse of him bouncing off the wall and landing on said floor. And, of course, she got to hear the small squeal that erupted from him when he ripped the wet bandage off his skin, taking a decent strip of chest hair with it.

Still, his efforts were revealed before two hours had passed when he opened the bathroom door again. The man who had gone in might as well have changed entirely into a new man. The patched shirt and leather trews had been replaced with the decidedly more modern shirt and jeans; the long hair had been cut ruthlessly until it curled damply atop his head; even his beard had been trimmed down to nothing more than scruff. Barefoot, Emrys edged back into sight, surprised by how nervous he was feeling. After all, he hadn't done all that for Marissa, had he" It came as quite a shock when the answer to that question came back as yes.

Her hearing was such that she couldn't help snickering when she heard him squeal, presuming he had chosen that moment to rip the bandage off his chest. The thump gave her a start, but he seemed to have recovered his footing quickly enough. By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, she had cleaned up the kitchen, stoked the fire, and fetched some vegetables from the dry cellar to make a stew for dinner. The cabin, as secluded as it was, held a few modern comforts, but no radio, no television, nothing that he might find too strange, save for a cellphone that was currently tucked out of sight and out of mind. She was humming quietly to herself when he stepped out of the bathroom, busily drying and putting away dishes. It wasn't her fault she dropped a plate, smashing it to smithereens when she got her first look at the new him - it was entirely his.

He winced as the plate smashed. "Uh ....Let me put my boots on, and I'll clean that up," he offered, moving to where his boots were stood by the door. "I was going to ask you if you had a broom and pan - I need to tidy up in your bathroom a little, too."

"No, it's all right," she interjected, holding up a hand once again to indicate she didn't need his help. "I just ....I wasn't expecting ..." She trailed off at a loss for words, it seemed. She wasn't really surprised to find a handsome face beneath all that overgrown hair and beard. She had looked into his eyes and almost seen into his soul, but she had not been prepared for him to clean up so nicely, presumably for her. She had left him a scissors and comb and razor, but she had not really expected him to use them. "Sorry, I don't know what?s wrong with me."

Tugging his boots on, he smiled at her flustered response. "Should I have left the hair as it was?" he asked, amused and flattered by her reaction. "Were you growing attached to the wild man in your bathtub?" Moving back toward her, he reached for the broom standing in the corner. "Speaking of the bathtub ....how is the smell" I'm afraid I couldn't face using the flowery soap, but that carbolic stuff is bracing."

She looked suddenly terrified as he came closer, backing into said corner and alarmed to find she had trapped herself once again. "No, it's, uh ....fine. You smell fine," she muttered, giving him no response to the question about the wild man who'd entered her bathroom and come out looking surprisingly civilized.

"Relax, kitten." He stopped where he was - not crowding her, but not feet away, either. "Look at me." He didn't touch her, trusting her to do as he asked before he went on. "You invited me into your home. You have shown me nothing but kindness. And as much as I want to kiss you, you are afraid of me. There are rules about that sort of thing. I will never intentionally harm you." He let that sink in for a moment. "Now ....I'm just going to fetch that broom. Don't scratch me for coming too close."

She was afraid of him, it was true, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe it wasn't him she was afraid of so much as it was what might happen if she let herself get too attached to him. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't let herself feel anything for anyone in so long she'd forgotten how. Maybe it was simply that so many of those she had loved over the years had been lost that made her keep her distance, but whatever it was, it didn't stop her from lifting her gaze and meeting his, as much as it made her heart pound with fear. She hadn't been afraid the night before when she'd faced the hunters, ready to put herself in harm's way to drive them from her land, and yet just looking at this gentle giant of a man terrified her. She stood very still, heart pounding, almost wishing he'd kiss her, but terrified that he would.

He might have spent a decade without much in the way of human company, but Emrys knew a lot about wild things. With Marissa standing so very still, he knew she was testing herself as much as him, slowly easing closer until he stood directly in front of her. With a gentle lean, he reached for the broom behind her left shoulder, his breath just barely warming her temple briefly before he claimed it. And he didn't linger to make her feel uncomfortable; he simply stepped back a few paces. With the broom in hand, he saluted her with a smile. "I'll tidy the bathroom and come back for this mess," he promised her, nodding politely before slipping out of sight once more.

And what did she do as soon as he was out of sight' What did most wounded, terrified, wild animals do but flee" She quickly found the door, stepping out into the cold, morning air and gulping a few breaths to calm her nerves. Her thoughts raced inside her brain, as fast as her pulse. She remembered someone else. It seemed like a long time ago. He had kissed her, too ....done more than kiss her, but he was gone now, nothing more than a memory in a life that wasn't even really hers. Why couldn't life be simple" Why did it have to be so confusing" But she didn't go any further than the porch, settling herself on the stairs and curling her arms about herself to keep warm. Surprisingly, she hadn't surrendered herself to the tiger, though the urge had been strong. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

And Emrys let her be for a long while, knowing he had pushed her to her limit, that his presence had caused that attack of fear. He tidied the bathroom, the kitchen; put his clothing in the bathtub and washed it clean of blood; hung it to dry where he hoped it would be most out of the way. And then he investigated the kitchen. When, eventually, he came onto the porch, it was with a blanket for her to keep warm with, and a cup of coffee hopefully the way she liked it, both of which he set down beside her. "I'm going to collect my traps," he told her quietly. "I will not be long, unless you would prefer me not to come back."

Lost in thought, it was his voice that pulled her back to reality, and she looked up to find him standing there beside her, a blanket and a cup of coffee in his hand - for her. How long had it been since anyone had bothered doing anything for her" Since she had let anyone do anything for her" "No," she told him quietly, patting the spot beside her. They were both wild things, and it occurred to her that of everyone she had ever known and ever cared for, there was a small chance he just might understand her best. "Please. The traps can wait." It was the only pleading she'd offer, leaving the choice up to him.

Emrys hesitated, uncertain of himself. He knew that with a wild animal, he would offer the food or treat, and make himself busy not too far away to draw them out. With a person - a person he realized he actually cared about a little - he was at a loss. But she gave him a clue. "All right," he agreed in his quiet way, easing himself down to sit beside her on the porch steps, not too close and not too far away.

And yet, despite the mention of family and friends, here she was alone in this place in her self-imposed state of solitude. She didn't seem to notice his misunderstanding of her situation, however, chuckling a little at his question. "Not a shy bone in your body, is there?" she asked, moving to her feet, the blanket still tucked around her shoulders and the coffee cup in one hand.

He shrugged. "I've nothing to hide," he mused, "and I'm sure you'll enjoy seeing the bald patch you created with your bandage last night. I'd bare more if I thought it would make you smile."

"I smiled, see?" she said, flashing him a cheesy smile, her eyes bright with amusement. "Come on, Fido. Let's see how you're healing," she teased, turning to lead the way back into the cabin.

"Woof." He laughed as he pushed himself up onto his feet, not even noticing his own wince with the motion. "You know," he said thoughtfully, moving to follow her back inside, "without a need to keep on the move, I am going to suddenly have a lot of free time. If there is anything that needs doing to the cabin, you should tell me. I'm good with my hands."

"Plan on becoming a massage therapist?" she teased. There were other comments she could have made about his hands, but she thought most of them might come off as a little too flirtatious. She shrugged the blanket from her shoulders and dropped it off on the bed before going to fetch her medical supplies. "The roof leaks sometimes," she remarked, topping the list of repairs that needed doing.

"A what?" he asked, laughing at the silly job title she had thrown at him. Just inside the door, he paused to take his boots off, not wanting to track mud through her home if he could help it. "I can fix the roof," he offered without a second thought. "Your woodpile isn't covered - I could build a shelter for it, to keep the gathered logs dry."

"You have a lot to learn, Fido," she teased him further, tossing a wink his way. He wasn't of this world, after all, and it seemed he knew very little of technology. It was probably a good thing the cabin was so quaint and rustic. "That should keep you busy for a little while," she replied, finding herself strangely relieved to give him a purpose and a reason for staying. She swapped her coffee cup for her medicines, directing him with a wave of her hand to the chair he was growing so accustomed to. "Let's have a look."

"Oh, I'll earn my spot by the fire, don't you worry," he chuckled. Perhaps it was odd, that someone who had lived the last decade almost entirely alone should be so ready to laugh and talk, but perhaps not. He had been starved of companionship for a very long time. As she waved him toward the chair, he rolled his eyes, his fingers clumsily unbuttoning the shirt he wore. "Are you planning on smearing more sweetly scented herbals on me?"

She found herself frowning at the thought of him sleeping by the fire like a dog. It was too bad she didn't at least have a couch, but the cabin was small and cluttered enough as it was, and the bed was big enough for two. She pushed that thought away for the time being; it was far too distracting to think of him curled up beside her. "That depends on how well you are healing." Which likely depended on the gravity of the wound.

He'd had that thought himself, but he didn't trust himself not to want more if he was sleeping beside her. No, a spot by the fire was more than enough for him; it was luxury compared with most nights spent under the stars. Pulling off the shirt, he bared his torso to her again - clean, this time, and with a large patch of his chest hair missing, thanks to her very well stuck bandage from the night before. The wound was scabbed over, already looking several days old, the skin a little pinched and reddened but healing.

She crouched down in front of him once again, this time in the light of day, to have a look at the wound, which appeared to be healing sufficiently, if not quickly enough for her. She frowned a little as he considered her options. She had her secrets, and some of those secrets were sacred, hidden from those who did not share her heritage or her race, and yet, who would ever know" "I could heal this for you," she told him, though she did not say how.

Holding his arm out of the way, he looked down at her quizzically. "Is it not healing right?" he asked, more curious than concerned. He'd had bad wounds fester before healing themselves before now, but he'd thought this one would be fairly straightforward.

"No, it's healing fine," she replied. "I don't see any signs of infection, but ..." She sighed, feeling foolish for even mentioning it. "I don't know how long it takes for your kind to heal," she said, dipping two fingers into an ointment and carefully spreading it across the place where the scab was forming. "I don't think you need a bandage, so long as you're careful."

He watched her for a moment, considering what she had and had not said. "What did you mean?" he asked gently. "That you could heal it for me?" He knew he would be healed as though it had not happened within another day or so, but he was curious as to what she had been considering telling him.

"I have certain gifts ....abilities," she told him, without looking at him, her attention focused on her work. "But I have never used them for someone else's benefit. The gifts are sacred to my people, but ..." She shrugged. "What good are they if they can't be used to help someone?"

"Marissa." He twisted, gently catching her hands in his. "I would never ask you to defame something sacred for my sake," he told her quietly. "I understand spirituality, though I have never had much in the way of structured faith. But if you want to heal me, then do so. You should not suppress a part of yourself. I may not be one of your people, but I will respect it. I will respect you."

She lifted her head to meet his gaze, her expression solemn. He didn't seem to understand what it was she was offering or what it was he was accepting from her, and she wasn't sure she knew how to make him understand. "In order to heal you, I must shift."

She was right; he didn't understand what exactly she was offering, because she had not told him more than that it would heal his wound. He wanted to know more, but dared not ask, only too aware of the wounded, frightened feline inside her. So all he could address were the fears that might be uppermost. "I will not look," he told her softly.

She did not tell him what would happen when she shifted or what she would have to do. It wasn't so much the sacredness of the act that bothered her as it was the fact that he'd half-guessed it the previous night, and he'd unknowingly wounded her with his teasing. Still, though the wound wasn't serious, this was something she could do for him, and he had already done much for her. She rose wordlessly from where she crouched before him and set her medicinals aside before going to the bed and fetching the blanket. She would need it when she returned to her human form.

Sensing that this was not something she did lightly, Emrys obligingly turned his back, closing his eyes as he did so. As much as he might want to look at her, to see her in a way he doubted many ever had, he would not betray her trust by peeking. If she was ever ready to show him, she would tell him, he was sure.

It wasn't shifting to tiger that was the tricky part, but shifting back. There was always the chance she'd get lost in that other form and forget herself, though she never had. She'd had years of practice shifting back and forth, and though there were other forms available to her, she preferred the simpler forms of human or tiger. She stayed a short distance away while she made the shift, flesh and hair and bone shifted seamlessly and painlessly, claws replacing nails, fur replacing hair and covering skin. Unlike the horror movies, it was a beautiful thing to behold, but then, she had been born like this, not made. The tiger held no fear and no pain.

Emrys had lived among shifters long enough to know the feeling in the air when a change was taking place. Even with his back turned and his eyes closed, he knew when she had completed her change, chancing a glance to get a good look at the beautiful tiger in the full light of day. He smiled, careful to keep his mouth closed; showing teeth might not be a good idea in the new moments of a shift. "You're a grand sight," he complimented her, offering his hand to the feline, his fingers curled under harmlessly.

To his shame, Emrys found himself shaking as she leaned into him, too nervous to move or speak. Her breath touched his lips, and he felt his heart lurch in the moment before her lips touched his. Just a touch, but it set him on fire in a way he had never before experienced. In a way he was sure he would never experience with anyone but her. One trembling hand rose slowly to touch her hair, fingers combing into the dark silk to hold her there as he dared to answer her kiss with his own - his first kiss, though he would likely never admit it aloud.

She had kissed and been kissed before, but not in this body or this lifetime. It was something she did not want to explain, the experiences of those others part of her, but not really belonging to her. Not unlike him, this kiss that she gave him was the first she'd ever shared with anyone, and it was affecting her in ways both expected and unknown. Her fingers found his face, rough with beard, before sliding into his curls, soft in contradiction to his beard.

How long she kissed him, he could never tell, but that moment would become one of his most treasured memories for the lifetime to come. When, at last, it ended, he found himself breathless, looking into eyes that could become dearer to him than any others, if she would allow it. He swallowed, nervous and uncertain of himself, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "Thank you."

She said nothing for a long moment as their lips parted, as surprised as he was by the feelings that one kiss had stirred inside her. She had been yearning to kiss him all morning. It had been in good part what had made her so nervous when he'd come close, but she'd been terrified to admit it, even to herself. She blinked back at him, a little confused at his gratitude, wondering what exactly it was he was thanking her for. "For what?" she asked, quietly, almost wishing he hadn't broken the spell so soon.

He laughed a little, his fingers still gentle in her hair as they looked at one another. "I don't know," he whispered. "For being you."

For inviting him to her home" For helping him' For tending his wounds" For healing him' For kissing him' Or maybe just for being his friend, though in truth, if that kiss was anything to go by, she thought she might like to be more than that. "You hardly know me," she pointed out, frowning lightly.

His thumb stroked gently along the line of her jaw. "I think some things, some people, you just know," he murmured softly. "I offered you my friendship, Marissa. But that was a lie. What I truly offer you is everything I am, however you wish to take me, however selfish I am for wanting a life with you, however quickly I may seem to be trusting my instincts. Reject me, and I will still be your friend, but I will never be a friend to the one you choose for your mate. I will envy him, that he has your trust and your love, all the days of my life."

Her eyes widened at his words, at the naked honesty in them and the trust with which he spoke. He knew she might reject him, and yet, he was not afraid to speak his mind and his heart, and she found herself not only touched to the core of her soul by his words, but envious at his ease in saying them. She would have grasped his shirt and clung to him, but for the fact that he wasn't wearing one - a fact that the tiger might have ignored but the woman was all too aware of. "I-I have no mate, Emrys," she told him, lowering her gaze as if afraid to meet his eyes. Had he not heard anything she'd told him' She was an abomination, unworthy of a mate. Why did he think she lived here all alone in her self-imposed exile"

"Not yet," he told her softly, leaning close to brush his lips against her temple. "I know you carry some great sadness inside you. I know you are afraid of letting someone so close. I do not expect you to welcome me with open arms. I do not expect you to want anything from me but my friendship. I could never give you cubs or pups, kitten; I would never risk it. No one deserves the life I live, and I would not condemn you to raising mutant half-breeds like me." His thumb stroked her cheek once again, his voice heavy with regret. "But someday, you will meet someone who can give you everything you long for, and I will be the first to push you into his arms. I'll hate him forever, but I'll be happy for you. You deserve that life, Marissa, and it will come to you. Someday."

If he thought to comfort her with his words, with his self-degradation, with his regret and self-pity, he was mistaken, and she found her heart flaring with passion, angry that he should say such things about himself and make such decisions for her without any thought to what she might like. "Enough! That's enough, Emrys. How dare you presume what I want or with whom?" she told him, shoving him roughly aside, eyes brimming with tears. She pulled the blanket around her shoulders and moved to her feet, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and so she simply turned her back on him as she struggled with her own confused feelings.

He winced, flinching back as she rose angrily to her feet, regretting his honesty with her. But he wouldn't lie to her. "I apologize," he said quietly, rising to his own feet to reclaim the shirt and shrug into it. "But it doesn't make what I've said any less true, Marissa."

"What you've said," she echoed under her breath, turning to face him, letting him see the tears on her face that were evidence of her own pain, brought on by his well-meant words. "I am sick of your apologies. Stop apologizing for who you are and accept it. It is not your fault you are what you are anymore than it is mine. You think you know me, but you do not. I am half like you, Emrys. Did you know that' My mother was a tiger, yes, but my father was a wolf. I have no pack to protect me. My birth parents are dead, and my siblings ....They will never know me, never know the truth. Why do you insist I would reject you when you are just like me" Do you loathe yourself so much that you would turn your back on what is right before your eyes" I offered you friendship, yes, but if more were to come of it, I would be happy for it, Emrys."

"I know what is before my eyes," he snapped back at her, and it was a snap, a clash of jaws that would have been threatening in a wolf. "A beautiful woman, a beautiful tiger, who deserves more than to be shackled to a freak who will hurt her the moment she comes too close at the full moon. Aye, I have instincts like a wolf. If I was whole, I would ask you to be my mate, and I would fight for you, Marissa. But I am not whole. I am not a man, and I am not a wolf. It isn't loathing, it isn't an apology. This is what I am! And I would give anything to be whole and real. To be worthy of giving you the life you deserve. Anything."

Ah, but she was a tiger, and she would likely make a worthy foe, unafraid of the wolf that was in him, as he was unafraid of the tiger in her. Her eyes flashed with anger as she moved closer, poking a finger at his chest, in the very place she'd just healed. "Don't you ever presume to tell me what I deserve. And don't think you can scare me either. I've faced worse than the likes of you, wolf, and I survived, and I will go on surviving. So, you can try to push me away if you like, but I don't scare that easy. You have two choices - you can stay, and we will sort this out together or you can leave, but don't ever tell me what I deserve or that you are not worthy of happiness. Ever."

He stared at her, hearing more in her words than perhaps she was ready for him to understand. He had no more words left to make his case; she had made her decision, and though it was not the one he would have wished for her sake, it made his heart swell in his chest. A wild grin erupted onto his face as he reached for her, pulling her into a kiss that was more passion than anything. It was not a good kiss, but it was an honest one. "You don't listen, do you, kitten?" he told her when they parted, that grin still there to light his eyes with hope. "I'm yours, if you want me. Even if it is a damn silly idea, I'm still yours."

Her eyes widened as he pulled her into a very unexpected kiss, hands pressed against his chest as though she might push him away, but she didn't. Neither did she melt against him, as if that one kiss might temper her anger. She was a creature of passion, whatever the source of that passion might be, and it would take more than a mere kiss and some pretty words to defuse her anger. She pulled away from his embrace, eyes narrowed at him, even as he grinned like an idiot. "You're an *ss, you know that?" she accused, giving him a light shove, but the anger had ebbed away as the meaning of his words finally sank in. "Before you get too excited, Romeo ....We have three bodies that need tending to before they stink up my woods."

"I'm your *ss now," he teased her with a wink, feeling as though every inch of him was singing cheerfully. "Although ..." He tilted his head, green eyes dancing with amusement as he made a performance of looking at her rear end. "You're probably going to want to put some clothes on before you step outside, kitten."

"All right." He lowered the shovel from his shoulder, gently pushing it into her hands. "Go back to the cabin," he told her. "You don't need to see them to know that I will handle this. I'll be back in a few hours, I promise you. But I don't want you to see this."

"But ..." she started, as she accepted the shovel from him, surprised that, once again, in a way, he had come to her rescue. "What are you going to do?" she asked, needing to know before she could leave him to it.

He considered this for a moment. "I smell running water not too far away," he said thoughtfully. "I'll go and take a look - if it's deep enough, and running fast enough, I'll pitch them into that and let the current take them off your land. If it isn't ....well, I'll be walking for a while."

"The river," she said, following his thoughts. "The river is high now," she continued, knowing her land better than anyone - her mother's land and her grandfather's before that. "You would do this for me?" she asked, feeling tears stinging her eyes.

He smiled gently at her, releasing her hand to cup his palm to the back of her neck, drawing her close enough to touch his forehead to hers. "Anything for you, kitten," he promised her. "You may be more capable than I am, but I won't let you hurt yourself needlessly. Go home. I'll be there before sunset."

There was no resistance in her this time, allowing him to draw her close, welcoming his closeness, just as the cat had done so a short time before. "I don't deserve you," she whispered back, touching a kiss to his cheek, but not arguing with him further. "Don't make me come looking for you," she warned him, with a faint, teasing smile on her lips.

He answered her teasing smile with his own, gently stroking her neck with his fingers before he drew away. "I'll be there," he promised her. "Now shoo, before I decide to find something wet to spray you with."

There was no point in arguing with him, grateful he was willing to do this for her, as if he knew it would be too much for her. It wasn't like she'd never hunted or killed before, but she'd made a vow a long time ago never to kill a human, unless absolutely necessary, and even more importantly, never to become a man-eater. She found herself smiling at his threat; they both had a lot to learn about each other. "Contrary to popular belief, tigers love water," she told him, giving his hand a final squeeze before pulling away to make her way back to the cabin alone.

He watched her go, making sure she was well on her way before turning to the gruesome task before him. It took several hours, just as he had said it would, but he returned to the cabin whole and well, her lands cleared of the bodies that would have given her nightmares had she seen them. He was, however, covered in congealing blood, hesitating outside the cabin as he looked down at himself. "I may need another bath," he called through the door, not really wanting to walk through her home in the mess he was in.

It took a moment before he heard a reply, as she had made herself busy during the hours he was gone. "Strip on the porch!" she called back. They were definitely going to have to make a trip to the city to do some shopping.

"Strip." He sighed, dropping his coat over the railing, and working on removing his boots. The shirt came off easily enough, but he hesitated when it came to his pants. He wasn't normally embarrassed by his own skin, but then, he'd never shown off everything he had to someone he liked this much. The thought of Marissa laughing at the sight of him was a scary one. "I, uh ....blanket, maybe?"

She had assumed he was wearing underthings, but she wasn't too sure. The thought of him trailing blood and mud through the cabin was an unpleasant one, especially blood of the dead hunters. "Just a minute!" she called back, moving about the cabin to fetch him the same blanket she had wrapped herself in just a few hours earlier. She didn't really want to see or smell the evidence of the previous night, but she couldn't avoid it forever either, her nose wrinkling at the smell as she opened the door to hand him the blanket.

As she opened the door, he jumped, spinning around to face her, holding the pants he had just taken off protectively in front of his crotch. His face flushed deep red despite the chill in the air. "Uh ....thank you," he nodded to her, avoiding her gaze as he took the blanket from her hand to wrap it awkwardly about his waist. He glanced at the blood-stained clothing guiltily. "Burning them would be easier than washing them."

She turned, averting her gaze, just as he had so that she didn't embarrass him by seeing too much, though she'd already seen him with his shirt off. She nodded, extending an arm toward him until he took the blanket from her. Thankfully, he hadn't borrowed her father's coat, or it might have been ruined, too. "We can burn them in the hearth," she replied, though she would have preferred to burn them outside. "I'll run you a bath," she said, before ducking back inside, before she could catch a glimpse of him.

He nodded, waiting until she was gone again before casting an almost anguished look at the bloodstains on his boots and coat. He'd had them for a good few years, repaired and worn until they fitted him perfectly. It was a little mournful to realize he was going to have to try and break in a new pair of boots again. Still, it was a small price to pay for Marissa's peace of mind. As she went to run a bath, he made his way into the cabin to collect a lick of flame on a substantial stick. Back outside, he used kindling from the woodpile to build a decent enough fire, and began the process of burning the ruined clothing, his own nose wrinkling at the smell of blood and leather and sweat combined in the crackling flames.

She wondered what was taking him so long, but the smell of burning leather answered that question quickly enough. She sighed, knowing she was going to have to find him some spare clothing sooner rather than later and made a mental note to make a quick phone call while he was in the bath.

It was a strange feeling, burning his own clothing. The boots, in particular, were a low blow, but it was his own fault. If he'd really thought about it, he would have done his body removals in the nude and avoided having to do this altogether. It didn't take long for most of the clothing and leather to burn down - what little was left could smolder in the embers until he came out to dispose of them. But he needed to wash the blood from his own skin so he didn't make Marissa feel sick, and that required the bathroom. Passing through the cabin, he knocked on the bathroom door.

She opened the door, wrinkling her nose again at the stench he of blood and death and burned leather that lingering about him. "You burned your boots?" she guessed, as she hadn't noticed anything else he'd been wearing that was made of leather.

"And my coat," he told her regretfully. "It was that, or make you live with the smell of dead blood in your own home, and I won't do that." He straightened his shoulders, meeting her eyes. "I'm a big boy, I can live without shoes for a while. Shouldn't take long to trade enough furs for some good soft leather."

She sighed, adding boots and a coat to her list of items he was going to need. "Any idea what size or don't they have shoe stores where you come from?" she asked, as she slipped past him to exit the bathroom.

"I can make my own boots, Marissa," he objected lightly. "I just need soft and hard leather, and I can trade for them once I have enough furs." He stepped aside as she slipped past him, a little confused by her sigh. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No," she replied quickly, offering a soft smile to reassure him. "You just worry about scrubbing and leave the rest to me," she told him, as she pulled the door closed. "Make his own boots," she murmured, chuckling a little to herself. Wouldn't he be surprised when he found out how easily they were replaced?

Still confused by that little exchange, Emrys turned his attention to the bath for the second time that day, working on eliminating the sight and smell of blood, sweat, and fire from his skin with another few layers of her delightfully floral soap.

Meanwhile, Marissa had to make a quick phone call before making lunch. She'd managed to tidy the place up while he'd been gone, and though he might not have noticed just yet, she had put out extra pillows and blankets on the bed and moved his pack away from the fireplace.

"Well, she's not married to the farm anymore than a housewife is married to the house," she replied, smiling at last. "I'm just not sure how to explain. They're like you. They're not from Rhy'Din, but they've settled in well here. At least, I hope they have. Mara is with child. She's due to have a baby over the summer. They have one son."

"If they are making their family bigger, I would hazard a guess that they feel well settled," he pointed out, his own smile flaring into life in answer to hers. "How far away are they, is their farm?" He was asking for a very specific reason - come the full moon, he didn't particularly want to put anyone in danger, least of all anyone who meant so much to Marissa.

"A few miles, I guess," she said with a shrug. Nowhere was very far in Rhy'Din really, or even away from Rhy'Din. Everywhere was just a stone's throw through the portal, and for someone who'd traveled through time and space, a few miles was nothing. She piled her sandwich with various slices of cold cuts and cheese while contemplating his question. It didn't occur to her that he might be asking because of what happened to him during a full moon. "I can take you there, if you like. The horses don't like me. They seem to sense my true nature."

"They really wouldn't like me, then," he laughed, finishing off his sandwich in one large bite. "Most animals know there's something dangerous about me. I have yet to make friends with anything that has even the slightest hint of survival instinct. Well, anyone but you. But then, you could probably tear me apart if you needed to."

"I won't need to," she was quick to point out, sounding pretty certain about that fact. "We're going to figure it out, Emrys," she repeated her promise from earlier. Even though they'd only just met, she felt some sort of inexplicable connection with him and had started wondering if this was how her mother had felt about her father, despite their obvious differences. "What's it like where you're from?" she asked suddenly, changing the subject. "Are there ....people like me?" she asked uncertainly.

"I'm not sure," he told her quite honestly. "Three of us were the pack's dirty little secret - they kept us as out of sight as they possibly could. My brother, the one who was born a wolf and could not shift to human, was eventually sold to a human village, and I believe he found his place there as a sort of sheepdog. My sister ....well, you know what happened to her." He shifted uncomfortably. "I know there were other packs in the mountains, even a pride or two, but I was kept very sheltered. They were very insistent upon keeping bloodlines pure - if there were any hybrids between wolf and cat, they were probably killed, unless their parents spirited them away before their existence was discovered. It was a ....a very barbaric sort of place, my homeworld."

"I don't understand why they wanted to keep the bloodline so pure if it caused problems like yours. It seems counterproductive," she reasoned, knowing that in-breeding was rarely a good thing, whether the species was human or otherwise.

"I don't know," he admitted, shaking his head. "Pure humans are considered to be inferior, and yet I truly believe that they will only survive if they allow litters to choose human mates. They would rather kill each other than let packs inter-breed, so it is their only choice."

"Here on Rhy'Din, there are so many different species, there are no steadfast rules, but as far as I know, too much in-breeding produces deformities and other problems. I'm sure there are some species that have no issues with it, but my species usually chooses a human mate. My parents were an exception," she explained.

"And there's nothing wrong with that, either," he pointed out. "But confining your breeding choices to your own blood kin ....I find it ridiculous." He frowned as a thought occurred to him. "I think, perhaps, I saved my sister from a worse fate. She would have been mated with a male from our pack, whether she wished to or not, and her life would have depended upon whether or not her children could shift. If they could not, the pack would have killed her themselves."

All the color drained from her face, paling at his revelation. She had promised not to tamper with the past anymore, but what if she could save another life" How many had she saved already? Maybe this was what she had been born for, after all. She knew what Colleen would tell her - Be careful - but if anyone would understand, it was her. "Did you love her?" she asked, her voice hushed, almost afraid to ask further.

Emrys looked down at his plate, his appetite gone. "She was my sister," he said simply, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. "She was the most vulnerable of us, and I protected her. We'd sleep side by side, I'd fight against claws and fangs with teeth and hands to stop the pack from hurting her. But it was because we were so close that she died. I still have days when I miss her."

She was frowning thoughtfully, tears of guilt and shame gathering in her own eyes as she averted her gaze, turning to stare at nothing in particular. She seemed to dealing with some inner struggle, some piece of information he didn't know about her that she was uncertain about sharing. If he knew the truth about her, it might change things - it could change his whole life. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved, but she also knew there might be ways to change it.

After a long pause, Emrys cleared his throat abruptly, rising from the table to take his plate to the sink. He didn't know why he had shared all that with her. Seren's death had been a long time ago, and though he missed his sister, he knew her life would have been terrible if she had survived his first turn. "It's done, and nothing can change the past," he said, rinsing his plate off. "Even if I could, would I" I don't think so. She made me who I am, in a way."

"What if I said you could?" she asked, in a quiet voice, almost afraid to mention it. Her gaze didn't follow him, instead, she was watching herself run a finger around the rim of her tea cup, her sandwich only half-eaten in front of her.

"If I could?" He turned to consider her, not even considering the possibility that this was anything more than philosophical conjecture. "Then I would drive myself insane. I would spend every waking moment of the rest of her life protecting her from every little thing, until she hated me. Some things shouldn't be glossed over or rewritten, Marissa. It was a hard lesson to learn, but I needed to learn it, and in learning it, I gave her the quick death our pack would never have given her." He moved to the table, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Even if there was a way, I wouldn't take it. Because without those experiences, I wouldn't be here with you."

"Wouldn't you?" she asked, lifting her gaze to him at last. He might decline her offer, but she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she at least didn't make the offer and make sure he understood exactly what he was passing up. "Rhy'Din is at the center of the Nexus, Emrys. Nothing is impossible here. I've done it before. Duncan and Mara ....They wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't offer to help you the same way I helped them."

"And what about you?" he asked her, dragging a chair closer so he could sit by her side, making sure his towel hadn't moved or opened up in the motion. "If Seren lived, I might have been killed by my pack trying to keep her from being forced into a mating. I might never have come to Rhy'Din. I might never have met you. The potential between us would never have a chance to exist." He gently cupped her jaw, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I miss Seren, of course I do," he told her. "And I will always feel guilty for her death. But without that moment in my life, I would not be sitting with a beautiful, wounded woman who seems to need me the way I need her. It is not a crime to be selfish now and then, Marissa. If it is selfish to deny Seren a life that could easily be worse than what she had already lived in order to have my chance with you, then I am selfish."

Marissa narrowed her eyes at him, pointing a silent warning at him to keep his seat, before going to the door. She drew a deep breath, hoping her friends wouldn't scold her for inviting a stranger into her home, before pulling open the door.

The door opened to reveal Duncan and Mara, dark and light, large and petite, both a little chilled but looking exhilarated after their ride. Mara, in particular, seemed to have embraced Rhy'Din's mash-up of cultures, no longer confined in long skirts but wearing rather stylish maternity wear to accommodate her growing bump. With a bundle hanging from her shoulder, she surged inside to embrace Marissa warmly. "We came as soon as we could," she told her friend with a smile. "Rob's with Maggie at the Brambles, so we have some time to play with."

Marissa returned Mara's embrace, a little less shy than she had been when they're first met. After all, they'd had time to get to know each other now that she and Duncan lived in Rhy'Din. "I'm sorry to bother you both, but I wasn't sure who else to call." Oh, she could have called a half dozen other people she considered family, but it would have been awkward with Emrys there, and she was hoping to avoid a lecture.

"We're closest, too," Mara reminded her with a smile, stepping further inside to turn her eyes toward the man seated at the table.

Emrys was fighting against the polite instinct to stand, certain that Marissa would likely growl at him if he showed off just how undressed he really was in front of her friends.

Marissa pulled them both inside, noting Mara's growing baby bump. She would have remarked on it if it wasn't for the half-dressed man sitting at the table. "Duncan and Mara, this is Emrys. Emrys, Duncan and Mara Mallory," she said by way of introduction.

Duncan followed his wife into the hunting cabin he and Mara and Rob had shared for a short while upon their arrival in Rhy'Din before they'd settled in at the Brambles. He stepped past the two women to offer a hand to the man. "Pleasure," he told him with a friendly smile.

"A pleasure to meet you both," Emrys offered, half-crouched over his chair in an attempt to be polite and keep his lower half out of sight.

Mara glanced at Marissa with a faint smile, making an intuitive guess that might not have been far off the mark. "And you, Emrys," she answered him, setting her bundle on the table. "We brought a selection of clothing with us. Some of it may be a little large on you, but there are belts and suspenders in there, too. Duncan has a couple of pairs of boots, too."

"You'll find that clothing is fairly cheap and easily obtained in Rhy'Din," Duncan said, for the man's benefit. He wasn't sure what exactly Marissa had told Mara about the man, but he, too, was sensing a story there somewhere. "I assume you are not a native," he added.

Embarrassed that things had got straight onto his lack of clothing, Emrys sat down awkwardly. "Thank you, Lady Mara." He inclined his head to the golden-haired woman, raising his eyes to her husband. "Uh, no, my lord, I was not born in Rhy'Din. I have lived here for several years, but my clothing situation suffered a minor setback yesterday, and my spares are still drying. I am reliably informed that meeting friends of Marissa in nothing but a towel is not the done thing."

Duncan couldn't help but smirk at the man's reply. It wasn't the formality of his speech that amused him so much as the remark about the towel. "Well, perhaps we can rectify that," he said, taking the bundle from Mara so that he could rummage around for a pair of pants and a decent shirt, as it looked like the one he was wearing was a little too feminine for him.

"I would be incredibly grateful," Emrys assured him, flicking a slightly guilty glance toward Marissa for having owned up so quickly to how under-dressed he was.

Biting her lips, Mara made her way to the little kitchen, setting a second bundle onto the counter. "We brought along a few necessities as well," she told Marissa with a smile. "I thought that, since you seem to have a house guest, a few extra supplies would come in handy."

Marissa only glared back at Emrys, though she had already told Mara as much when she'd called. Somehow, her look seemed to be telling him to get dressed without having to say it is so many words.

Duncan was still smirking, clearly amused by the situation, but he waited for Marissa to turn her attention to Mara before leaning in to whisper, "I'd go get dressed if I were you," he warned, handing a few choice articles of clothing to the man.

"Thank you," Emrys murmured gratefully, taking the offered clothing with a grimace of a grin. It didn't help that the towel decided to slither to the floor when he was halfway to the bathroom, leaving him accelerating with a hint of naked rear end before the door shut quickly behind him.

Thankfully, Marissa's back was turned and she didn't catch sight of the full moon that had been hurrying toward the bathroom, but Duncan did, as evidenced by the bark of laughter that shortly ensued. Marissa turned to find out what was so funny, but the reason for Duncan's laughter had already taken refuge in the bathroom and it seemed Duncan was unable to form words.

Mara raised a brow at her incoherent husband, curious but smiling. "I think, perhaps, your Emrys has a sense of humor to match his," she murmured to Marissa, unpacking cheese, butter, eggs, potatoes, and bread from the second bundle they had brought. "Elise insisted we bring food along, I hope you don't mind."

Marissa gave Duncan very nearly the same look she'd given Emrys a few minutes earlier, but Duncan only smirked back at her. It seemed any attempt at serious conversation was going to be thwarted by the men. "You are as bad as he is," she scolded him before turning back to Mara to help her with the groceries. "Thanks, Mara, and please thank Elise for me. How are you feeling?" she asked, turning her gaze to the baby bump at long last, while Duncan came over to join them, his arms going around his wife to settle his hands against that bump.

"She's feeling just fine, aren't you, love?" he asked, touching a kiss to her cheek in an affectionate and playful attempt to distract her.

Laughing, Mara leaned back into Duncan's arms fondly. "Says the man who tends to sleep through the morning sickness," she teased her husband fondly. "I'm doing well," she promised Marissa. "That tea you made up works wonders. So long as I drink it first thing, before I eat anything, the nausea stays away completely. Elise is convinced it's a boy because I'm still feeling sick." She snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes at that prediction. "And how are you, Marissa" You have not been to visit for a while. Rob's been asking about you."

"Well, how did you feel when you were pregnant with Rob?" Marissa asked, moving about the kitchen to put away the groceries, while the other pair looked on. She frowned a little at the question, feeling guilty for not dropping by and visiting as much as she'd like, shrugging as she stowed the eggs in the refrigerator. "I don't want to intrude," she replied, though they'd never made her feel like an intruder.

"You are always welcome," Mara promised her softly. "But we don't want you to feel as though you have to visit us. You're more family than friend, Marissa. We're going to worry about you, no matter what you do." The question about her first pregnancy made her smile twist just a little. "I don't remember much about being pregnant with Rob," she admitted quietly. "Not because of any illness or anything like that. It was guilt, mostly. My mind just doesn't want me to remember those months."

She knew enough about Mara's past to question her further regarding her first pregnancy. Though it might have been helpful to compare them, she didn't want to cause the other woman any undue pain by bringing up bad memories. She smiled a little at Mara's reassurance, turning a glance at the door into which Emrys had disappeared. "I was thinking ....It will be spring soon. Maybe you could use another pair of hands around the farm?"

Mara's smile warmed briefly before she leaned forward. "Marissa, you are one of the most private people I have ever known," she pointed out in a gentle tone. "You never do anything that might possibly constitute a risk to your safe haven here. And yet you have a man here, after meeting him only last night, allowing him to wander around in nothing but a towel and a shirt. You speak to him with a familiarity that even some lovers can't muster with one another. There's more between you than a simple hello and goodbye."

Marissa sighed as she set the cups of cocoa on the table and took a seat across from her friend - her best friend really. "I can't explain it, Mara. There's just something sweet about him, as rough around the edges as he is. I know it sounds cliched, but he saved my life last night. We saved each other. But it's not just some silly romantic notion about a hero and a damsel in distress - we both know I'm not that. It's something more than that. He's sweet and charming and polite and just a little bit shy." Not to mention lonely, like herself. And then, there were his looks. Even before he'd bathed and cut his hair, she'd thought him the handsomest man she'd ever met. Why did he have to be a wolf"

"I don't believe anyone can truly explain why someone is important to them," Mara offered thoughtfully. "I love Duncan, but I couldn't tell you why. I simply love him, and I think part of falling in love is accepting that you have these feelings for another person that you can't explain or describe. You shed blood together, I am assuming - you're not the type to just stand by and be saved." She flashed her friend a soft smile. "I can say this from experience - standing with someone who elicits feelings from your heart against others who want to harm you creates a bond, a sense of mutual protection. Knowing that he would protect you even without knowing you; surely that is a fine indication that what you are feeling is not unrequited?"

"No, I don't think it's unrequited," Marissa replied, pausing in a moment of quiet contemplation. In fact, she knew it wasn't unrequited. Emrys had made no secret of his emerging feelings for her, and she couldn't help but admit that she was feeling the same way, but just how much should she tell Mara" "I don't want to put you in a dangerous position by telling you what happened, but yes, we shed blood together. He was hurt, so I brought him here. What else was I supposed to do' I couldn't just leave him out there after risking his life for me. And now ..." She frowned again, once again more worried what other people would think than what she and Emrys wanted. "Am I going too fast, Mara" I need to know."

Mara set her cup aside, reaching to take Marissa's hand in hers. "No one can tell you the answer to that question but yourself, Marissa," she told her friend softly, earnest honesty in her gaze. "Yes, others might look down their noses and pass comment, but that is a judgment on them, not on you. If you feel things are going too fast, then you should slow them, for your own sake. If you do not feel that this is moving too quickly, then I do not see the harm in it. He seems like a good man, though I hardly know him myself. You are the only one who can say if this is too fast for you, and you should trust your instincts. I do not believe they have ever let you down."

She frowned a little as she listened to Mara's advice, not because she disagreed but because it gave her a lot to think about. "There was someone once, a few years ago," she confessed quietly. In truth, it seemed like a lifetime ago, and in fact, it may have been.

"His name was ..." She paused, shrugging as she focused on the contents of her mug. "It doesn't matter what his name was. He said he loved me and then ..." She merely shrugged again, which said the rest. He was a mystery - part of her life for a short while before disappearing without a trace. She'd tried to find him for a while, but had eventually given up, assuming he had his own reasons for leaving. But had that happened to her in this lifetime or was it one of the others' memories that were creeping into her mind, and did it matter if it was" They were all part of her - she shared their experiences and feelings, as if all one and the same. What had happened to one of them had happened to all of them.

"Was that with you, Marissa?" Mara asked her softly. "Or was it one of the others?" She knew how privileged she was to have this information about her friend, deliberately speaking softly so that there was no chance either of the men outside the cabin could overhear her. "I cannot imagine how confusing it must be for you to have so many memories, but one thing I do know is this ....the more emotional the memory, the more negatively we remember it. The more wary we become of repeating it, even if there is no possible way to do that."

"I don't know," Marissa replied with a frown. "They're all mixed up in my head. Sometimes I remember something and can't figure out if it happened to me or one of them." One of them had even been in love with Duncan once, but she had not told Mara that. She had always thought of Duncan as a brother, not a potential lover. "I know I did the right thing in gathering them all up, but ..." She paused a moment to chew on her lip. Mara knew more about her life than most anyone, but there were things Marissa hadn't even told her. "I dream about them sometimes, but they're more like memories than dreams. I don't know what to do. I can't just get rid of them."

"Maybe there is a way to sort them out, somehow," Mara suggested. "I have heard that there are people in the city who offer something called talking therapy, where people with pasts that still haunt them can come to an understanding of those pasts and let them go in a way." She shrugged, not truly understanding what she was talking about. "It sounds a little like magic to me, but Marin assures me it is as simple as sitting in a room and talking to someone who will never reveal what they hear to anyone."

"I'm not sure just talking about it will help," Marissa replied, but she hadn't asked Duncan and Mara here to talk about her problems, but to help Emrys. "You should probably know ....he's a werewolf, or so he claims, but he's the product of too much in-breeding. He doesn't shift the way more werewolves do. He says he doesn't make a physical shift. He only shifts in his mind, which makes him a danger to both himself and to those around him, but in my case, he's mostly a danger to himself."

"Perhaps it is worth looking into," Mara suggested, but let the subject drop as Marissa turned the conversation back to Emrys. She glanced toward the door, surprised by this revelation. "Perhaps there is a way to help him, too," she mused. "By magic or science - Rhy'Din is filled with wonders made by both, after all. But what do you plan to do at the next full moon' Will he be here, or will he leave to protect you from himself?"

Marissa followed Mara's gaze toward the door, unsure how much time they had left before the men returned. "I don't know," she replied truthfully. "I think he's better off here where I can keep an eye on him, but I don't know. We haven't talked about it much. He said something about chaining him up, but ..." There was that frown again, as if she didn't really like that idea either. "There has to be a better way."

"If only his mind shifts, then essentially he becomes an animal in a man's body," Mara considered thoughtfully. "Do you have a cellar here? An animal wouldn't be able to work out how to pick a lock or open a handle in a single night, surely. Though he may wear his fingers to the bone trying to dig his way out."

She winced, unsure if she liked the sound of that either, but there was no good solution to the problem that she could think of. "I don't want him to get hurt," she said quietly, but then, she didn't want anyone else getting hurt either.

"Marissa ..." Mara squeezed her hand gently. "Unless there can be found some way to cure his ills in the next ten days, you will have to choose the least evil of the paths in front of you. I assume he has lived with this all his life; he will have a way to deal with it. He may even have ideas as to how it may be handled without his having to do as he has done before. But I would suggest that confining him would be the kinder way."

"I don't know what it's like to be him. The full moon has no effect on me. I'm not driven to madness or feel the need to kill. It's different for me. I've learned how to control it, but I don't know if he can." It was more than Marissa had ever told anyone before, but from the look of anguish in her eyes, she was obviously worried for the man, whether she'd just met him or not.

"Then, if I may, I think you need to witness for yourself exactly what happens to him when the moon is full," Mara told her. "Without knowing what happens, you cannot even begin to find a way to help him."

Marissa considered that quietly a moment. She didn't want to drag Duncan or Mara or anyone else at the Brambles into this. There were too many lives at stake there, but here, in her woods, she might be able to contain him. "There is a root cellar," she suggested.

"Then don't be surprised if he asks to see your tiger the next time you see him," Mara warned her with a smile. She didn't think Rob would have any problem with a slightly feline aunt, and it would help him to understand what Emrys' difficulty was.

"Just warn him that tigers don't purr," Marissa replied, an amused smirk on her face. Why everyone always assumed tigers were just big cats was beyond her. There were some similarities, being from the same family, but plenty of differences, too.

"Oh, I'm fairly sure he'll know as much as he possibly can about big cats by the time we next visit," Mara chuckled. "He got a library card. There's a large stack of books on the dining table waiting to go back."

Marissa smiled as the conversation turned back to Rob once again. "And how does he like STARS?" she asked further, once again remembering the Rob of the future whose dream was to become an actor. This Rob might be younger, but they were not all that different.

"His confidence is remarkably improved since he started there," Mara admitted with a soft laugh. "He loved being on stage during A Christmas Carol - I'm not sure what he preferred most from the experience; actually acting, or being a part of such a tight-knit and welcoming cast. There was a little confusion; Jonathan Granger looks an awful lot like Duncan, but he was so good with the children backstage. And then the STARS own performance was wonderful! He was actually disappointed when he had to spend Saturday mornings at home for a couple of weeks."

"I'm glad. He's a good boy." Marissa smiled, her face brightening to know Rob was settling in well and was happy. That alone made her certain she had done the right thing in bringing them here. She had managed to change not only one life for the better, but all four of them, not including any future offspring. She didn't always keep track of what was going on in the city and wasn't too sure who Jonathan Granger was, but assumed it was someone at the theater. It didn't much matter either, so long as Rob was enjoying himself.

"Of course, Duncan is halfway to organizing Rob's wedding to Maggie," Mara commented with another low chuckle as she rose to rinse out her cup, her clean habits a product of too much time spent in Elise's fastidious company. "They're inseparable, but they're still children!"

"Weren't you children when you met' Maybe he's thinking of that." Marissa smirked, as a thought came to mind. "Want me to take a peek into the future?" she asked, but she was only teasing. That was far too dangerous to seriously consider.

"Only if you bring back photographs of Duncan as an old man," Mara countered with a grin. "I know he's going to be handsome still, I'd just quite like to know how long I'm going to have to beat women off with a washing dolly for."

Marissa chuckled. "I haven't noticed you beating any women off lately, have you?" she asked, rising to her feet to rinse out her own cup. She wouldn't deny Duncan was a good-looking man, but there was more to him than just a pretty face. "What do you think of Emrys?" she asked, eyes bright with obvious longing for the man in question.

"What do I think of him?" Mara smiled a little teasingly, stepping aside to allow Marissa access to her own sink as she dried off the cup she had just washed herself. "I think he is a very handsome man, but I think there is a lot more to him than first meets the eye. He's very concerned that you approve of him, and he clearly thinks more of you than of himself if those were his boots smoldering when we rode up." She considered for a moment. "No, I give you permission to love him when you're ready. I think you and he would be very good for one another."

"The same could be said for anyone, Mara," Marissa pointed out, but did not argue with her assessment of Emrys or of the fact that he had killed for her. "I think so, too," she said quietly, regarding whether they were good for each other or not. Though they'd only met less than twenty-four hours before, some things were just meant to be.

"Not anyone," Mara corrected her gently. "I can name two who were exactly what they seemed to be, and who died for it." She nudged Marissa's shoulder as she smiled teasingly. "Should we let the boys back in" Duncan will keep inventing things to do until someone tells him he's allowed to drink his coffee now."

And Marissa could think of several more, though she wasn't quite ready to divulge that to Mara just yet. She smiled back at her friend, before wrapping her in a hug - a rare display of affection. "Thanks for being my friend, Mara, and yes, I think we should."

Mara smiled into the embrace, holding her friend tightly for a long moment before letting her go. "I'm glad we're friends, Marissa," she told her softly. "There are very few people I trust more than you, and I live with all of them." She winked at her friend playfully, moving over to the door to open it up. "You may come back now," she called to the men, wherever they had ended up. "We've stopped talking about the woman things."

On the contrary, they'd hardly gotten started. Marissa had barely scratched the surface when it came to Mara's pregnancy, but there was plenty of time to discuss that later. She chuckled a little at Mara's welcome to the men, as she went about pouring both men a fresh cup of coffee - Duncan's black, and Emrys' with a little milk and sugar.

There would be plenty of time on the next visit; when the men were working on the root cellar and Rob had finished babbling about anything and everything, then Marissa could pick Mara's brains about anything she liked in relative peace. Today, however, was about oiling those wheels before the cart set off. "If there is mud on those boots, they are coming off before you step inside," Mara added as the men reached the porch, surprised when Emrys almost immediately bent to remove his boots without a second thought. She glanced over at Marissa with a grin, and made a briefly teasing kissy face in her friend's direction before straightening her expression hurriedly.

Marissa couldn't help but laugh at her friend's teasing, feeling far better for their visit than she had without it. They had something of a plan now; she just had to convince Emrys of the logic in it, if Duncan hadn't already.

"You see what happens when you marry them?" Duncan teased as he followed Emrys inside, pausing a moment at the door to remove his boots. "They become tyrants!"

"Oh, I only became a tyrant after you impregnated me, darling," Mara teased her husband affectionately, moving away from the door to let the men inside.

Emrys snorted with laughter as he set his boots to one side outside the door. Both men looked flushed for their exertions, but it didn't look like any words had come to blows.

"The first or the second time?" Duncan teased back, though they both knew perfectly well that she meant the second time. He touched a kiss to his wife's lips before moving to take the cup of coffee from Marissa with a cheeky wink.

Laughing, Mara kissed Duncan in return, finally moving to sort the bundle of clothing into shirts, pants, and others for Emrys and Marissa to go through at their leisure.