Bryant's cave was near the ground, a sign of his low rank among the Faye. It was lit by the sunlight that came through the door during the day, and there were beeswax candles for extra light when needed. The open doorway didn’t provide much in the way of privacy, but you could only see the ceiling from the cliff below.

The furnishings were modest: two cots, a table, and a single chair. There was a hearth by the door so the smoke could escape, and cooking items on the floor next to it. The cave was drafty, like all caves, and Bryant built up the small fire as Kaye shivered.

“I should warn you, I can only cook fish.”

Bryant chuckled and sat back on his heels, waiting for the fire to catch. “I didn’t ask you here to cook.” He still didn’t know how he’d gotten to the point of wanting Kaye so badly. When she first arrived, she reminded him of everything he’d lost. He could see his pain mirrored in her eyes, but Kaye was still able to smile. She didn’t hide in her pain, and she didn’t look at him with the same pity as the other Faye. He’d always been weighed down by the choices of his parents, but Kaye made him feel lighter.

She wrapped her arms around herself and kept talking, oblivious to his thoughts. “Priestesses don’t have to cook in Fie Eoin. They’re considered part of the chief’s family, and his wife does the cooking. The High Priestess is lucky—Oak’s wife is from Fie Deorsa and they’re the best cooks in the Seven Tribes. I always planned on pressing Osprey into marrying a Deorsan, but while I was an apprentice my mother still cooked for me. Not that my mother wasn’t a good cook…”

“Kaye,” Bryant stood and grabbed her hands, studying her face. “I will teach you to cook.”

Kaye took a shaky breath and her ears burned red as she nodded. “That would be good.”

“Good.” He kissed her to calm her nerves, then grabbed a cup and poured her water. “Here. You sit and rest and let me take care of everything.”

“Thank you,” she smiled and took a deep breath before sitting on the edge of the cot. She looked ready to jump at any moment, and Bryant couldn’t help but smile. She couldn’t be that nervous about living in Aleda—she’d been living with strangers for moons in Gaerlom. She must be nervous about living with him, and for that he couldn’t blame her. He was nervous himself, although his eagerness was easily overriding his nerves.

“I do want you to teach me,” she said after a contemplative sip. “I don’t expect you to feed me every day. I need to learn something more than priestess tricks.”

"I will not let you take advantage of me.” He winked and sat with his back against the wall, watching her shy smile and slight blush. She couldn’t leave now; not when they were living together. He’d make sure she was so content that she would never miss Fie Eoin, even if it meant cooking for her every day.

Kaye looked around the small room with large, scared eyes. “I must be dreaming,” she whispered. “This can’t be real.”

“What do you mean?” Bryant stood and brushed the soot from his hands before sitting next to her on the cot. “Of course it’s real. No one is going to steal you away.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and moved her chin so she would look at him. “What is wrong? I thought you wanted to be here?”

“I do.” A nervous laugh escaped her. “I spent many summers consoling myself to the fact that I would live alone, and this is a change from that. Even in Gaerlom I was with a family, like at home. Now I’m here, and...” She looked down and Bryant wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

She pulled away, face full of apology. “It’s going to take a while to get used to is all.”

He smiled. “Take all the time you need.” He returned to the fire and began preparing lunch. He’d hoped she would be a little more secure in this arrangement. If she decided that it wouldn’t work…Bryant couldn’t think about that. He was going to have to make her want to stay with him. He was going to have to make her so happy with life here that she forgot her old life in Fie Eoin, and the Obsidians who threatened it. The bracelet he’d made was strong, but he needed something to eclipse homesickness, not something that pronounced her Faye.

“Are you even hungry?” Lunch was soup, and he could move it to the side to stay warm, but he was hungry for something else. Every time he thought of her sharing his home it made his fingers tingle with the desire to touch her.

Kaye laughed. “No, but you seemed set on cooking for me.”

Bryant echoed her laugh. “I was. I want you to feel welcome.” He moved the soup and walked over, lifting her to her feet and caressing her hand with his thumb. “I think I know a better way to make you feel welcome though.”

The nerves in his stomach quickened as he kissed her slowly, one hand holding hers, the other snaking its way behind her neck and into her hair. Bryant's heart raced, but he took his time, kissing her fully, exploring her reactions. When his hand moved down her neck and over her shoulders she sighed, and when he trailed his fingertips down her wing she trembled.

She stepped closer, pressing herself to him and he did it again, running one finger from the base at her shoulder blade straight down to the tip. He lowered to the cot without breaking contact, and lifted her onto his lap so she could feel how much he wanted her. He ran a hand up her leg, pushing the fabric of her dress until she could sit straddling him. He could feel the heat coming from her. She kissed him back and straddled his hips with her dress around her waist, just hiding her body from view.

Bryant pulled her on top of him and kissed her hard before he let his hand wander again. Her hands lost their shyness and explored him as well. She touched, soft and curious, staying above his waist but becoming bolder. Every time he touched her wings she stopped and shuddered, and she ran her hands under his shirt and up his chest. When he sat up to pull the article of clothing off, she reached behind him and trailed her fingertips across his wings. Bryant let out a shuddering breath as her touch shot to his core and he pressed her hips onto him, pushing against her as he leaned back for leverage. The fabric of his pants was a wall between them, and he wanted to tear the wall down.

He grasped her thighs as he pressed against her again, slowly, repetitively. He was surprised when she made the next move, slipping her small hand through the band of his pants and running her fingers over him like she had with his wing.

“Oh,” he groaned as she wrapped her hand around him. A sharp intake of breath when she reached the tip, and then she was moving her hand in the same slow rhythm he’d already begun.

He kissed her mouth, her neck, whatever was closest as she rocked against him, moving her hips in time with her hand. He slid his hand up her thigh and found the hidden place he wanted, her skin slick with desire. When he touched her, she sucked in a deep breath and stopped her movement until he slid a finger inside and she relaxed onto him with a sigh. They moved together, rocking in fluid motion until he pulled his hand away and pushed her dress over her head and onto the floor. She helped him with his pants, and Bryant laid Kaye on her back in the creaking cot. He ran his hands over her body—her skin was hot and perfect beneath him—before he lowered himself onto her. She moved her legs and gasped when he entered. But he moved slow and gentle and soon he could think only of the feel of her body and his movement inside her. Their pounding rhythm came to a climax as he let out a groan of delighted agony, and shivered as he lay on top of her.

Kaye ran her fingers through his hair, kissed his face, and pressed against him as her own body gave up the sensation of using and being used. She shuddered beneath him twice before he found the strength to roll to the side, careful as he released his hold on her. They lay with their arms and legs intertwined, brushing their fingers across sweaty skin, giving soft kisses and murmurs of appreciation.

Bryant hoped he made Kaye feel welcome.