Even dulled by the pain, he was beautiful. Black hair, deep as ebony, fell to his broad shoulders. A chest of steel narrowed to…the rough sheet concealed the rest of his intriguing body. His nose was thin and sharp, reminding Arlynn of a hawk’s beak. Then the lush lips pursed to speak, even as agony blurred his words.

She breathed. Her hands instinctively reaching for his, to provide the healing power needed for her to hear him. She had to hear him. Her heart slammed in her chest with the urgency of a crazed beast.

She touched the charred skin and sent a tendril of healing light out to him. It happened again.

A blinding bolt of power, black with force, shot back through her arms. Arlynn cried. Such agony! Her brow furrowed, as she realized it was not of the body.

She slipped into a trance, seeking the source of the black power. His arms, while burnt, caused the man no pain. Some other healer had been there, and the pathways were repairing themselves quickly. He would begin to generate new skin and tissues in a matter of days.

Her mind stopped and checked the major organs. They were all healthy. She could still hear muted cries in the distance. Locked in his mind, she thought. Perhaps the blast had frightened the poor man.

She set to soothing the childlike reactions. Fire, loneliness, anger, and unstoppable power all vied for supremacy in his tormented mind.

The fire she extinguished with a cooling touch. The anger she turned aside with a kind word of love, the loneliness—a kiss on his temple, the power...

What could she do? The mage’s power raged unabated. Yes, Arlynn realized. A mage. One of the many used in battle. He must’ve been ready to spend a spell when the Blast occurred. The unspent power still required an outlet, now that it had been called. That prevented this man from telling her of his hurts.

Catching his tossing head between her hands, Arlynn begged him, “Give the power to me, my lord. I shall see it safely away, and then you can rest.”

Once again, she was caught in a vortex of dark brilliance. His eyes, distraught with pain, reflected a need for acknowledgement. Arlynn’s breath hitched as those black eyes skated over her lithe figure.

In all of her eighteen years, she had never known the desire of a man. As a healer, she remained untouchable to most of the population, held above them as a superior being. Now, in an instant, she knew what it was he wanted, what he needed.

Arlynn smiled. “I can give you what you need, and you can give me your pain.”

Still unsure, the man with eyes of night agreed.

She braced herself for the onslaught. She bent over his head and placed a kiss on his lips. Not a benison of healing as she had given him before, but a kiss of sharing.

His lips were hot and hard as molten steel. She poured her cooling healing into his mouth, an ocean’s wave to soften his attack. Even as her skin heated, his pain and power cooled, ebbed and drew away on the tide. Unaware of any other wounded soldier or hard working healer, the pair moaned. Steam began to curl and seep through their minds. Eagerly Arlynn licked at his mouth, desiring to find the source of such impatient heat. Seduced into a moment of trust, she did not feel it come.

The fire of his un-cast spell swept through and over them, extinguishing their passion. The complete cessation of awareness and knowledge was of such ecstasy and agony, she knew she would seek out the master of the power for the rest of her life.