Nascha flew alongside Vaughan as they made their way to the cabin. Stars shone overhead and brilliant moonlight illuminated the treetops below them. It was long past the time when she usually went home. She hoped Fenrys wasn't worried. If he was, he probably would have come to the Bane's camp and retrieved her himself.

Vaughan had been late in returning to the camp after he left for Orynth to speak with Aedion. Nascha had picked up on his dark mood and wisely remained silent. She couldn't help but wonder if something had happened. She hadn't seen Vaughan this upset since... Well, since she'd met him. He didn't seem angry; just sad.

Maybe it has something to do with whatever he discussed with Aedion, she thought. Or maybe he's been thinking about Connall again. That could've upset him.

They reached the cabin and Nascha drew her wings up, shifting into herself. She landed firmly on the grass. Vaughan circled overhead. He didn't leave until she'd closed the cabin door behind herself.

"Sorry I'm late," Nascha called. "Vaughan was in Orynth with Aedion longer than expected." There was no response. "Fenrys?" She kicked her boots off and entered the bedroom.

Fenrys lay on the bed with his back facing her. She knew he was awake from the way his shoulders rose and fell with uneven breaths. Nascha knit her brows, already sensing the weight of his sorrow. Instincts pooled in the pit of her stomach.

"What's wrong?" Nascha asked.

She leaned over him, smoothing curly blonde hair from his forehead. Fenrys didn't respond. Nascha frowned. Fenrys never seemed to stay still, and yet now, he was hardly moving. She needed to fix that. She needed to wipe that numb, sorrowful look off his face.

Nascha grabbed a pillow and hit him over the head with it. Fenrys pursed his lips and looked at her. She hit him again. "Stop it," he muttered.

"Tell me what's bothering you." She smacked him with the pillow before he could reply.

He shoved it away. "I don't want to talk, Nascha."

"You need to." Fenrys ignored her. Nascha planted one hand on her hip. "Remember when I didn't want to talk to you either, but you knew I needed to and you pestered me until I finally did?" He gave a heavy sigh. "I'm going to do the same to you. What's wrong? What have you been dreaming about? Why is your sorrow so intense that I can practically taste it? Why..." She paused, noticing the faint shine on his cheeks. Her voice softened. "Why were you crying?"

He closed his eyes, still not answering. Nascha struck him with the pillow once more. Fenrys grabbed it and jerked roughly. She toppled onto him and he let out a huff. Fenrys tossed the pillow aside and rested his hands on her waist. Her skin tingled at his touch.

Nascha brushed her fingers over his jaw, then leaned forward and kissed his scars. She dropped another light kiss on one corner of his mouth, then the other. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart against her chest. It matched the tempo of her own.

Fenrys shifted his hands from her waist and wrapped his arms around her. His breath was warm on her neck as he hid his face in her hair. "Vaughan told me about he and Connall's feelings for one another," he whispered.

"And that upset you?"

"Not exactly."

"Are you upset that I knew and didn't tell you?" Nascha wove her fingers through Fenrys' hair soothingly.

"No, Vaughan told me that he asked you not to. I understand. I'm upset because..." His voice caught.

"Because..." Nascha prompted.

"I can't." He pressed his cheek against her shoulder, swiping at his eyes.

Nascha pulled back, meeting his onyx gaze, which sparkled with unshed tears. "I've heard you throw up after a nightmare for the past several days. I've seen you moody and upset. I've seen you happy and excited. That time I woke you from your nightmare about Seraphina? You were crying. You screamed. I see you fight back tears when we visit Gavriel's grave sometimes. I've seen every part of you, Fenrys. You don't have to hide your feelings from me."

His throat bobbed, but he didn't answer. Nascha twisted off of him and took his hand. Fenrys followed her without protest. They entered the bathroom and she switched the water on, then set to work unfastening his tunic. "What are you doing?" Fenrys asked.

Nascha held his gaze as she pulled his tunic off. His undershirt followed. She began unlacing his pants, not breaking eye contact. "Sometimes it's easier to open up to someone when they are just as vulnerable as you. You'll be able to cry without so much self consciousness too, thanks to the water and steam. Besides, I need a shower, and I want to take care of you."

"You want to take care of me?"

Nascha nodded, sliding his pants off. She lowered her hands and waited, not looking anywhere but his face. She couldn't help but remember the last time they'd been in a shower together, and they still hadn't discussed what that meant.

Later, she reminded herself. Right now, I just want to help him.

"You want to take care of me?" Fenrys repeated. She nodded once more, unable to explain the instincts that churned through her. They told her to protect him. To care for him. To find what was hurting him and somehow make it better. To give him whatever he wanted. Whatever he needed, and more.

Fenrys rested his forehead against hers and undid the buckles on her leather tunic. He set it aside, then helped her out of her undershirt. He left her undergarments alone and began unlacing her pants. Nascha stepped out of them. Fenrys lowered his hands to her hips, his dark eyes devouring every inch of her.

"Keep these on for now," he murmured, tracing a finger over the hem of the thin material covering her breasts. "I'll be too distracted to talk if I see any more of you." Nascha couldn't stop her blush. She ducked her head. Fenrys hooked a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head back up. "If I don't have to hide from you, you don't have to hide from me. You're beautiful when you blush." Nascha smiled and led him into the shower.

◦ ~ ❘ ☼ ❘ ~ ◦

Fenrys gave a contented sigh as warm water pelted against his skin. Nascha dabbed some of his soap onto a washcloth and ran it over his shoulders and down his chest. He watched her, a smile tugging at his lips. No one had ever done anything like this for him. Not even Seraphina.

"I always knew that Connall still loved me, but the way he acted made me doubt it," Fenrys began. "The things he said and did made me think that he resented me. Sometimes, I thought he hated me. He seldom showed that he cared for me, so I suppose it was easy for me to forget the times when he did."

His eyes stung and Fenrys blinked rapidly. Nascha motioned for him to turn and he obeyed. Her hands were gentle as she ran the washcloth over his back and massaged his shoulders. A few tears dripped down Fenrys' cheeks. "Vaughan told me that everything Con did was to protect me. To protect all of us. He pushed us away and said the things he did in the hopes that Maeve wouldn't be able to use us against one another."

"I thought I was protecting Con by swearing the blood oath and taking his place. He thought he was protecting me by doing the same, and later, by acting like he resented me. I'm upset because...I miss him. I never got to apologize to him for everything that happened to us. I never got to tell him how much I loved him. I never got to ask for his forgiveness, or tell him that I forgave him. I never got to say goodbye."

Fenrys lowered his head, unable to stop his tears. Nascha's hands ran through his hair now. She was still behind him, quietly listening. "I was trapped in my wolf form when Maeve forced him to kill himself," he rasped. "I couldn't speak to him. I couldn't scream or cry. I couldn't even howl. I was frozen in place by the blood oath. I know Maeve must have made him say the things he did before he died. I don't think Con could've said them in the hour of his death. I knew my brother. My twin. He would have said goodbye."

"I didn't get to say goodbye," Fenrys sobbed. "Not when he died. Not when Vaughan burned his remains. For over a century, he acted like he hated me because he loved me, and I didn't... I..."

Nascha turned him back towards her and pulled him into a tight embrace. He leaned his head back, letting the water wash soap out of his hair. "I didn't get to say goodbye to my brothers either," Nascha whispered. Her voice was thick with emotion. "Or my parents. I know what that's like. I know how much it hurts."

When he was certain all of the soap was out of his hair, Fenrys lowered his cheek to the top of her head. He grabbed a second washcloth and dabbed some of her own soap onto it. He lifted her hair from her back and wiped the cloth over her neck and shoulders. He scrubbed the length of her arms and down her waist. Fenrys lifted one of her legs to his hips, keeping his free arm around her waist. He slid the cloth over her leg, then repeated the process for the other one.

"I think," he began, turning her around so he could scrub her hair while the water rinsed soap off her body. "Someday, I will go back to Doranelle and visit Seraphina's grave. If Vaughan will come with me, maybe I'll go back to the palace too and...look through Con's things."

"Rowan told me a few months ago that he received a letter from Sellene Whitethorn. She is his cousin and the new Queen of Doranelle. She said she'd gathered up all of our personal belongings and put them in storage, in case we ever wanted to collect them. Maybe..." Fenrys paused, tipping Nascha's head back to let the water rinse her nutmeg scented soap away. "Maybe that will help me feel like I've had the chance to say goodbye."

"I think that's a good idea," Nascha said. She bit her lip. "But I don't think it will work for me."

"Maybe someday it will."

She gave him a disbelieving look. Fenrys just smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, Nascha turned off the water and they stepped out of the shower. She wrapped a towel around her shoulders and entered the bedroom. Fenrys dried himself off before following.

He grabbed a pair of loose soft pants off his dresser and slid them on while Nascha changed into dry undergarments, shorts, and a tank top. She raised an eyebrow, spying him. "You're wearing pants tonight?"

Fenrys sat down and drew her onto his lap. When he laid back, her head rested on his chest. "Yes, I'm wearing pants tonight. I need to sleep, and you're much too tempting for me to be close to you without clothes on."

"You just were," she chuckled.

"And if it weren't for my current emotional state, it would have been very hard for me to behave myself. I don't want to do anything like that until we've had a chance to discuss things."

"I agree." She traced the tips of her fingers in a circle on his chest. "When will we have that chance?"

"Soon," he promised. "The day after tomorrow is the Midsummer's Eve ball. After that, things will go back to normal." He didn't mention that their deadline to meet Rayan and Eliora's demands was close to just three months away.

Nascha nodded slowly, closing her eyes. "Tell me if you have a nightmare tonight," she murmured. "Let me help you. It hurts to sit here and do nothing."

His heart stumbled over itself, and he knew just what she meant. He felt the same way when she refused to let him help her. Fenrys kissed her forehead. "All right, Sweetheart. I'll tell you." He closed his eyes with a smile. But I don't think I'll have a nightmare tonight, he thought to himself.