I woke this morning perhaps an hour before dawn, jerked from sleep by nightmares of hard hands clawing at my body. A muffled scream rang in my ears, and it took a moment to realize that it was coming from me. A dark shape shot up from the floor, swearing and flapping great wings.

I was tangled in the blankets, terror wrapping icy claws around my throat as I fought to free myself. The winged creature stumbled forward and I screamed again, falling out of the bed in an attempt to get to my feet. The creature lunged forward before I could right myself.

Hands gripped my arms, pulling me up off the ground. A heartbeat sounded beneath my ear, soothing me as my mind began to catch up with my reality. I wasn't being attacked by anyone and there was no demon flapping its way toward me.

"Sh," Deniel soothed, rocking me. "Sh, Aeleva. You are safe. Safe."

I clung to him, tears stinging my eyes. I couldn't bring myself to fight when he led me back to the bed and sat, cradling me to him. His fingers gently combed my hair from my face, his other arm holding me tight. The warmth of his body chased the cold terror of my dreams away.

"Safe," he murmured again, like that would somehow erase what had happened. Or like it would erase the fact that I was surrounded by men who would prefer to simply rape and murder me if they thought they could get away with it.

And I was fool enough to believe him.

When I managed to stop shaking, Deniel stood with me in his arms. He turned, laying me on the bed like a small child. When he moved to pull away my hand shot out, fingers snagging in his sleeve. He went very still, like a startled animal.

"Please," I whispered, not entirely sure what I was asking.

All I knew was that his presence did make me feel safe. Safe in a way I hadn't felt in a very long time.

I heard his breath hitch, then come out on an unsteady sigh. Slowly, like he didn't want to frighten me, he sat on the bed. I kept my fingers tightly wrapped in his sleeve, pulling him down onto the thin mattress.

It was so dark I couldn't see his face, but I knew his eyes were trained on me. I flinched when he stroked the length of my arm.

"I am sorry," he said. "I..."

His words trailed off when I lightly touched his cheek. His chest stopped moving as I traced the line of his jaw, over his cheekbone, down his nose. His breath came out in a warm rush when I touched his lips.

"Why?" I asked the question that had plagued me since I had first laid eyes on him. I swallowed against my dry throat. "You killed them. Why?"

Deniel lifted his hand and hesitated. When I didn't move, he carefully traced my jaw, then down the line of my throat, feeling the rapid pulse there.

"I have been a warrior for...all my life." He shifted a little on the mattress, bringing his body closer to mine. "The ability to kill does not mean you should take every opportunity to do so. And I do not..." He paused, then shook his head. "Think? No. Believe that there is honor in...hurting?"

"Attacking," I offered quietly.

He nodded. "Attacking one who cannot defend themselves."

I digested that for a second, gnawing at my lip. I didn't know if it was accident when his thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, making something flutter in my stomach.

"You...kept me," I said, disliking how the words felt over my tongue.

"No!" 

I started at his outburst, jerking away from him.

"I—no," he said, once more placing his hand against my face. "You...you are free to leave. I just wished—wanted for you to be safe."

"Why?"

He stayed silent for so long I was convinced he had tired of the conversation. Then, he sighed, the sound defeated. "Because you were the one my heart was searching for."

All I could do was gape at him. He traced the shape of my face, fingers trembling against my skin. His words rang with terrible sincerity. I could do little more than believe him.

And I couldn't help the desperate leap of my heart.

Moving slowly, giving me the chance to refuse him, he let his hand slide down to my waist. When I didn't resist, he pulled me flush against him, his breath warm on my lips. 

He didn't move after that. It was my choice.

I had so rarely been allowed to control my own fate. 

Tears burned my eyes again. I was not afraid of him. The only thing that filled me was a terrible longing. One to match the sincerity he had just bared to me. I had no where else to go. Any survivors of William's raids would know I had been kept by one of his soldiers. They would despise me for that, even though I had not come here by my own choice.

Staying would be my choice.

And I found that even the idea of leaving him hurt.

I placed a hand on his chest, feeling how hard his heart was beating. He still hadn't moved.

Shaking a little, I shifted forward until my lips touched his. Lightly at first. Tentative half-kisses that set my heart racing and stole my breath. Then Deniel threaded his fingers through my hair and deepened the kiss.

Fire raced through my blood as he tasted my mouth, his arms pulling me somehow closer. 

He was impossibly strong, the muscles of his chest and arm flexing beneath my hands when he pulled me over on top of him. I carded my fingers through his soft, blond hair and bit his lip, making him groan with longing.

My eyes flew open when he turned his head, breaking the kiss. His chest heaved beneath me as he gasped. I let my head fall forward, lips pressing against the vulnerable hollow of his throat. He shivered, hands skimming over my waist. Swallowing hard, I glanced up, surprised by the fact that I could now make out his eyes glinting in the predawn light.

A deep breath of his lifted me slightly, reminding me that I was on top of him. I didn't want to move.

A smile glimmered faintly on his face and he whispered, "I have wanted to do that since I...saw you."

I snickered at his hesitation, burying my face against his neck again. He still had problems with the proper verb forms. He kissed the top of my head, a low laugh rumbling through his chest as well.

"Why didn't you?" I teased.

I knew I'd said the wrong thing when he stiffened. He took a steadying breath. "Could you have loved me, if I had done such a thing?"

He never ceased to surprise me. I shook my head minutely, again pressing my lips to his throat. He rolled us sideways and when I looked up, he captured my mouth in a soft kiss. "I was not sure I...believed you could love me."

I played with one of the laces on his tunic, considering my response. I settled for the truth. "I did not know I could, either."

He kissed me again, then shocked me when he placed a hand on my hip, rolling me over so my back was to him. His arm hooked around my waist, pulling me into him. Against my ear, he said, "There is still time for you to sleeping."

"Sleep," I corrected, and he snorted.

"Sleep," he mimicked, holding me tighter. His lips brushed the skin just beneath my ear. "Sleep."

It should have been impossible.

But, then again, I suppose I'd already reevaluated my definition of impossible.

                                                                                     ~~*~~

Word has swept through camp with the rising sun.

King Harold is marching south. The soldiers are abuzz with rumor concerning what the duke will do.

Deniel is speaking to his squire about what will need to be packed and prepared. It's even more difficult to keep my eyes to myself. Every move of his holds a new kind of interest for me.

I know he will be leaving soon, fighting against soldiers. I know this is what he wants. He crackles with a new energy even as he remains grim. 

The idea of full battle frightens me.

I don't want to lose him.