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ripened with impatience. “Besides, men don’t always think about that .”
    “Really?” Lyrra said dryly. “Even on this day, when the first moon of summer rises?” She made a rude noise that expressed her opinion quite adequately.
    Turning her back on the garden, Dianna sat on the terrace wall near Lyrra. She sighed. As much as she’d tried to pretend she didn’t know why the Fae men were acting so restless, Lyrra was right. They viewed the night of the Summer Moon as other men might view a banquet table filled with a variety of dishes to be sampled. And the dishes that were the most familiar had the least appeal.
    Which is neither here nor there to me , Dianna thought. The Wild Hunt also rides tonight, and anyone crossing our path is fair game .

    “Will Aiden be among those traveling the road through the Veil tonight?” Dianna asked.
    “I wouldn’t know,” Lyrra said too casually.
    Oh, you know , Dianna thought, seeing the way Lyrra’s eyes fixed on the gardens without seeing them.
    You know, and the casual way he seeks other lovers hurts you . “If our paths cross tonight, shall I bring you back his heart?” She said the words lightly, but there was nothing light about the question.
    “Haven’t you realized it yet, Huntress?” Lyrra said with equal lightness. “Fae men have no hearts.”
    Not knowing what to say, Dianna remained silent until Lyrra retreated inside the Clan house.
    That wasn’t true, Dianna thought as she left the terrace and meandered the garden paths. Not exactly. It wasn’t in the Fae’s nature to be ... warm . . . with each other. Not that way. Physical coupling was pleasant, but it wasn’t supposed to involve the heart. Why should it?
    And since it didn’t, there was no reason why the males shouldn’t enjoy females from the human world. It required little of them and meant even less. Besides, it was the women from a handful of extended families who made up each Clan. The woman and their offspring. Fae males tended to make lengthy visits to other Clans to avoid sowing their own meadow. It was a woman’s male relatives, her brothers and cousins, who helped raise the child, not its sire. Fae women seldom found a human interesting enough to take as a lover, but if the males took their ease in a human’s bed, what difference did it make?
    A whine made her look to her left. Her lips softened in the beginning of a smile.
    The shadow hounds were her joy—sleek and lethal, with beautiful gray coats streaked with black. When they ran, they were moonlight and shadow in motion, and there was no prey, on four legs or two, that was fast enough or clever enough to elude them when they hunted.
    The bitch whined again, wagging her tail hesitantly.
    Dianna almost extended her hand to welcome the hound. Then the three puppies from the bitch’s last litter joined their mother, and Dianna remembered why this bitch was no longer her favorite, why she could no longer give the petting and praise that had once come so easily.
    Two of the puppies were perfect. But the third . . .
    The tan forelegs that marred the lovely blend of gray and black were a constant reminder that the bitch had pursued a different kind of hunt the last time Dianna had taken the pack through the Veil.
    It was one thing for a Fae male to plant a child in a human woman. After all, the woman was getting a better offspring than she ever could have gotten from a human male, even if the child wouldn’t have any magical gifts. It was quite another to allow inferior creatures to live in Tir Alainn.
    She should have had the pups destroyed the minute she’d seen that one. They couldn’t be allowed to breed since the sire’s influence could well show up in the next generation, even from the pups who showed no sign of him now. But the bitch had been so fiercely protective, allowing no one to get near her pups until Dianna came into the kennels. The animal had been so pleased to see her, so willing to share her pups with her