"She is bewitching him," Reena said, as Conall slipped away from her and stretched out his hand to the woman who was beckoning him forward.

"Yes," replied another, a man.

"Lucky bastard," said another.

As for Reena, her words were lost in the music, and unable to watch, she fled to the caves to lick her wounds in private.

Fingers as warm as morning ashes smoothed over his palm as he came to the woman of the Wild Ones, drawing him into the firelight to press close against her as she moved to the unending beat of the drum. Those dark eyes stared into his, promising the world if only for a single night, her choice made in the eyes of her people and his. Hands skimmed down over his back, holding him close to let the heat of her skin warm him through the rough cloth of his shirt and pants as her lips played barely an inch from his. "Burn with me, eniro."

He only touched her hand, nothing more, devouring her with his eyes as his gaze moved over her form before meeting the dark heat of her stare. He could easily get lost in the dark pools of her eyes, forgetting every other woman he had ever laid with, if only for a night, almost feeling the cadence of the drum as it beat in time with his heart. He lifted her hand and pressed it against his chest to feel the thrum of his heart, his breathe warm and shallow as her lips played close to his. "You know I cannot deny you," he replied, though he wished for privacy, as was the way of his own people. Whether this was something that was needed to forge a bond between his people and hers, he did not know, nor did he care. He only knew that he wanted her. He would worry about what came after later.

There was a knowing light in her eyes as he answered her, a moment of wondering if he truly knew what was happening here. Her hand pressed over his heart, beneath the warmth of his own as her lips just barely touched his. "Yours where you want me," she whispered to him, words older than his civilization. "Yours how you want me. In the eyes of the Goddess, and all men. Yours till the stars burn cold." A flicker of humor touched her gaze as her lips curved, offering him a way out of performing in public, as it were. "For you, I would sleep in the heart of the Goddess."

Her words touched his heart, striking some unknown chord deep inside him, and that brow of his arched yet again. Was she offering herself to him for all time" Or were they to share a lifetime of love all in the span of one evening" She was right in thinking that he was not quite sure what was happening between them, but he also knew that if she truly wanted to be his for all time, he could not deny that either. It was as though there was some inexplicable connection between them that he could not explain, but he was not sure if it was only the heady moment that made him believe it or if it was really so. "No," he replied, covering the hand that pressed warmly against his heart. "I would not ask that of you. The grass will be our bed, and the sky our roof."

"But you would not have me before your people or mine," she murmured through her smile, the steady roll of her hips pressing hard to his in the sway of the music. "Burn with me, eniro. Burn with me in the full light of the moon."

"I would have you before your Goddess and in witness of those who watch over me from the heavens, but not in front of my people, no. They would not understand nor would they approve. I will burn with you, but not where eyes who do not understand would see."

Her smile deepened. "The Goddess began the hunt," she told him softly. "It is you who must end it." She threw back her head, calling to the full moon. "Leniniya!" A moment later, she had whirled away, her hand in his pulling him away from the firelight, away from the caves, out of the camp, surefooted over the uneven ground. Certain he would chase her, she released him and lengthened her stride, her steps drawing them back to the clearing where they had first met only hours before, where the moon shone down on the waters of a fresh pool and the breeze rustled in the grass.

He followed, as she expected and as he had promised, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, uncaring if he burned in the firelight. Some of his own might think he was being foolish, reckless even, but they were not him and they did not understand. It was as if he had waited all his life for this moment, though he did not understand why one woman should be so important and hold such sway over his heart. Following her was like trying to catch a shaft of dappled moonlight, fair and pure and wild and always just a little out of reach. He knew where she was taking him, recognized the place, though he was not sure why there, except that it was the place of their meeting and thereby must hold some significance. He had the feeling that nothing she did was by accident, but by design. She must have known already that she wanted him from the very first meeting.

There, in the center of that clearing, on the very spot where she had stood to await his coming, she halted, turning to face him as the moonlight shone down on her. She had burned in the fire; now she shone in the light of the Goddess. And again, Liayna danced for her chosen man. Yet this time it was truly for his eyes alone, each motion displaying the form that had enticed him, the warmth of her eyes inviting him to end the hunt whenever he chose. Yours, she had said, and to that she would hold, no matter how long it took him to realize what she had done tonight. And again, she spoke four words in a whisper that carried through the rustling of the wind in the trees. "Burn with me, eniro."

Though he did not understand all of her words, he seemed to understand her meaning. There was much about her that he did not understand, but that was part of the mystery, part of what enticed him. She was the Mystery that was Woman, and he was a Man. There in the clearing where they had met only a few hours earlier, he peeled off the clothing that encumbered him and separated his flesh from hers. There was no turning back now. What was it she had told him' The Goddess knows what I am to you. What had she meant by that' She had said she was not his friend. Was that only because she wanted to be something more? He did not waste any time asking, but took her in his arms, his body as naked as hers, bathed only in the light of the moon.

Her kisses burned, her touch scorched his skin and left no mark behind to show for the way she loved him in the moonlight. Ecstasy had been a word well chosen, for there was a wildness in her as she drew him down to the dew-kissed grass, a tenderness that seemed at odds with the fervor, the ferocity, the need that drove her to claim him for her own. With only her Goddess and his Gods to see them, she completed the ritual that had begun when their eyes had first met, a ritual he had no way of understanding in these fervent hours of the full moon's light. She loved him with touch and taste, with sound and scent, learning him with eyes and hands and tenderly fierce lips as they rolled together on the chosen, neutral ground.

He lacked neither experience nor skill in matters of love-making, matching her kiss for kiss and touch for touch, both tender and wild in their need for each other. It was not only desire that drove him onward, but a need, a hunger that burned deep inside, that it seemed only this one woman was able to fill. He had never needed or wanted anyone the way he needed her, and he found himself filled with a passion he had never known possible, a depth of feeling he had kept submerged and subdued all his life let loose by this woman who had claimed him, though she hardly knew him. Though he hardly understood what was happening, he claimed her in returned, taking her roughly and gently all at once, making her his, claiming her for himself for all of eternity, with only the stars and the moons and the forest to witness.

And give herself she did, over and again, until the moon had faded from the sky and the first cold grayness of dawn began to creep into view. And still she laughed and smiled, seeming as fresh as a morning after a long night's rest, though neither one of them had rested much at all through this long night. As gray began to turn into gold, she rolled over him, offering one last kiss to burn his lips and tease his spirit. "Come, eniro," she told him. "There are many miles to walk today, and blood to be shed before the day is done."

He grunted a response, feeling oddly invigorated rather than exhausted, though he had not slept a wink all night. With any luck, weariness wouldn't make itself known until later. If anything, he knew he would sleep like a baby that night. "How do you know these things?" he asked curiously as she rolled off him, but something in the woods gave him pause. He snatched her wrist to draw her back down to him, pressing a single finger against her lips to silence her. Perhaps it was more instinct or second-sense than anything else that made him wary, but something inside him sensed they were not alone. There came an almost imperceptible snap of branches, a quiet crunch of fallen leaves and swish of brush. It might be nothing more than a deer foraging for food, or it might be a far more dangerous intruder.

The stillness that came over her at his behest was uncanny, the stillness of a forest in the dead of winter, of a lake surface untouched by the wind, of a golden sunset. She listened with him, and slowly a grin touched her face as she looked into his eyes. "If she thought she could escape with her life, she would put a dagger between my shoulders at this moment," she murmured, knowing there could only be one person lurking so close and yet so eager not to be seen.

He tensed beneath her, instinct telling him to be on alert, though it seemed the threat had passed as the sounds quickly retreated into the woods. Conall seemed to catch his companion's meaning and his expression darkened, scowling more in annoyance than anger. "Foolish girl. She holds no claim on me, nor I on her. I should never have laid with her. It was a mistake." Though it had seemed like a good idea at the time. He relaxed a little when he realized it had only been Reena who'd trespassed, though he knew a woman's scorn could prove dangerous enough.

Liayna laughed, unafraid of being heard, moving to rise from him once again. Naked, she was obviously not at all concerned about walking back into their waking camp in that state. "I hope then, for her sake, that she has the sense to hold her jealousy close," she mused. "I do not think she will like to defend her claim, should it come to it."

As unconcerned with her nudity as she was, his instinct was to cover her, if only to keep her warm and to keep the prying eyes of his men from lusting after her. He snagged his tunic from the ground and, catching her by the arm, pulled her toward him again as he rose to his feet. "She has no claim on me," he reassured her bluntly. "You should cover yourself. I am a jealous man myself, and I do not wish to share you."

Liayna laughed again, strong despite allowing him to pull her close once more. "Do you think any man has had me that I did not want?" she asked him, just as bluntly. "Do you Arctrans forget so soon the promises made by the light of the Goddess' moon' You are my eniro. And I will die before allowing another man to touch me."

"You misunderstand, Liayna. I do not wish to share what I have seen this night. You are not ashamed of your body, and you are perfectly right not to be, but men will lust after you if you give them cause." The truth of the matter was that men were likely to want her whether she was clothed or not, but why offer a temptation they could not have"

She frowned in confusion. "Do your men not know what it is to look and not touch, to understand that a woman is not free to be theirs for the taking" Are Arctrans so very dense and dull of wit?"

"Some do," he replied, letting go of her arm and handing her his tunic, despite her confusion and disagreement. "Humor me," he told her, with a weak smile. "Just this once." He did not want to explain that this was for her own good, though he had a feeling if anyone did try to cause trouble for her, she was more than capable of defending herself.

She looked down at the material in her hands, more finely woven than any she had come across before. The looms of her people were rustic affairs, their cloth not made to be anything but practical. Her eyes rose to his once again, and she sighed, pulling the tunic over her head. It hung low enough to protect his sensibilities, at least. "Just this once," she warned quietly.

That left him without a tunic, but it hardly mattered. He couldn't help but smirk to himself as she agreed with his request, secretly wondering what else he might manage to get her to agree to, as he snatched his pants from the ground and tugged them on. "What did you mean when you said I would be able to walk through the fire unscathed?" he asked curiously. Now that the night was over and dawn had arrived, he wondered how much of what he'd seen the previous night was real and how much he had imagined.

She blinked, startled by this seeming ability to disregard what his own eyes had seen the night before. "You saw us walk through the fire last night," she reminded him. "Each one of us. Your priests would say it is an act of faith. We believe it is love. What mother allows her loving children to come to harm when they trust in her so deeply?"

"I know what I saw, but I do not understand how it was accomplished, or how I might accomplish it," he explained, more curious than anything else. It was not so much that he doubted what his eyes had clearly showed him; it was more of a desire to understand how such a feat had been achieved. "There are some who would call it magic, and others who might say it is witchcraft." He was not one of them, however.

Her laughter rang out through the trees as she reached out to touch him, her skin still warm from their love-making. "Those who cry witchcraft, who scream out against magic ....those are the ones who come begging to the clans in the dead of night, weeping and pleading for our wise women and their healing arts for some beloved child or sibling. Your laws are not my laws, Conall Riordan. An Arctran calls me a witch, and I laugh. If they threaten what is mine, I will kill them."

"I have much to learn about you, your people, and your goddess," he admitted as he fastened his pants at the waist, pausing to look at her as she touched him. The desire he'd felt for her only a short time earlier still echoed through him, like the flicker of a flame not yet extinguished, and he wondered if it was possible to keep that flame burning forever. Now that the light of day was turning the world from darkness to light, she could see that his body was marred in several places by old, fading scars that only seemed to give him more character, rather than diminish his natural good looks. "What is yours," he repeated, wondering just what she meant by that. He was not a thing to possess, though she had made no direct claim on him, but rather seemed to want him to claim her. "You seem to have known me before I arrived. Did your goddess tell you of my coming?"