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getting his way. She stared,
unable to look away. Like the time she’d stumbled upon a den of
sleeping wolves, watching him ignited two senses; fear and longing.
He was beautiful in the way of all wild creatures, and if Tyber
were right, just as deadly.
    His chest rose and fell
rhythmically. She wanted to touch him again, to know once more the
feel of his skin, any skin, beneath her fingers. Tentatively, she
traced one of the silver runes on his ear.
    He moaned and she pulled away. She
stepped back, thunderstruck by the acute nearness of him and the
way his palpable maleness permeated the room. There was something
about him darker than his skin.
    “What have I done?” she whispered.
“Why have I taken this man into my home?” To find out why he had
her father’s donkey? He might have robbed her father. Or
worse.
    She backed out of the room, grabbing
the Feyre as she went, and shut the door harder than necessary. She
pressed her hand against her mouth, and composed herself before
going into the kitchen. With so much work to be done, she did not
want Corah to think she doubted her decision to help the
elf.
    She squared her shoulders, and took
a deep breath. I’m a healer. He won’t harm me. Still, she vowed to
see him well and on his way with as much haste as
possible.
    After depositing the Feyre with the
guards outside, Jessalyne strode into the kitchen. “I need you to
start an elixir base while I study my mother’s books for some hint
at what this illness is. Now, what would you use?”
    Startled by Jessalyne’s burst into
the kitchen, Corah almost dropped her mortar and pestle. She
stammered for a moment, “Um, let me see, angelica root, dried
monk’s blossom, hyssop – no hyssop would be for a bath, this is an
elixir, so ground parsley seed and...”
    “And?”
    “Alder flower?” Corah asked
hopefully.
    “Yes! Well done.” Jessalyne pulled
one of her mother’s books from a shelf and began flipping through
it. She looked up at the girl, lost in some daydream. “Will you be
making that elixir today?”
    “Of course, sorry,” Corah nodded,
head down.
    Jessalyne knew who occupied the
girl’s thoughts. “Mind the work at hand, not the creature in the
bedroom. Besides, you are betrothed.” Corah’s cheeks colored. She
dipped her head lower.
    Jessalyne pulled one of her mother’s
books from a warped shelf. She scoured the text for some indication
as to what malady they were fighting. The faded scents wafting from
the yellowed pages reminded her of her mother. She smiled. Her
mother would have helped anyone in need.
    “I think this is it.” Her finger
stopped at a passage near the bottom of one page. “We need a few
more ingredients.”
    Lastlight settled as they finished
the brew. Jessalyne and Corah strained the concoction through a bit
of fine linen into a narrow-necked jar. They each took a dose, then
plugged the jar with a cork stopper and sealed the cork with
wax.
    “Be sure everyone gets a dose, fawns
and elders first. There’s no way of telling who was exposed.”
Jessalyne smiled at her shape-shifting apprentice. “You’re a good
student. Thank you for your hard work.”
    “You’re a patient teacher,” Corah
said.
    Jessalyne waved the comment away.
“Off you go.”
    Corah left, her precious cargo
cradled in the crook of her arm.
    I’m alone in the house with him.
Jessalyne shivered. Stop behaving like some foolish chit. There are
guards outside the front door. He’s too weak with fever to be
dangerous. And even if he were, I have my magic. Just give him the
elixir and be done with it.
    She took a measure of the elixir in
a mug and a cool damp cloth with her into the back bedroom. She
nodded her head toward a small oil lamp on the bedside table, and
it flickered to life, brightening the room with a soft glow. He
slept fitfully, the covers tossed aside. Light from the oil lamp
danced across his skin.
    She set the cloth on the table and
hesitated. Giving him the elixir required