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She fell silent, but by the way her gaze grew distant Kael knew that her mind was working the problem.

He could tell there was something there—so close, as if on the very fringes of her thoughts but just beyond her grasp.

He kept quiet, giving her the space to think.

Her jaw flexed as she chewed lightly on the inside of her cheek.

Kael was absolutely enraptured by her, and tempted—desperately, dangerously tempted—to take her face in his hands and kiss her again right there in front of Rodney and Raif and whatever other ancient beings or bygone gods blessed the stones of the cairn around them.

He was mere seconds from giving in when she said finally, “The crossroads.”

Rodney frowned. “What?”

“There’ve always been stories about crossroads; wives’ tales about spirits or devils or whatever else you might meet there.

” Aisling sat up a little taller, leaning forward to draw a cross on the dirt floor with the tip of one finger, then tapped on the center where the lines intersected.

“People used to be buried at crossroads, criminals and such, to prevent their spirits from returning. It was thought they’d be trapped there. ”

“You’ve been spending too much time in the library, Ash,” Rodney teased, but there was no real conviction behind it.

She shook her head. “It’s old folklore, and it might not be true at all but…I don’t know, fucking faeries are real, why not this too?”

Rodney snorted, but Kael hardly noticed because Aisling had turned to look at him and there it was— there it was .

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry from the relief that washed over him at the sight of it: hope.

A flicker, just a spark, but it was there glowing in her eyes and lighting up her face just as he remembered.

She may have thought she’d lost it, but she hadn’t.

Not really. He knew she hadn’t. She’d just needed to find it again.

And with it, he felt his own courage returning, too.

Kael’s mind—all of their minds—were worn thin from harried preparation, throwing out increasingly unrealistic ideas at a frenetic place until a patchwork plan had been strung together.

It was full of holes, and one well-timed question might have shredded it entirely, but it was the best they could do under these circumstances.

They were out of time—Sudryl and Raif had made that much clear.

Antiata had given them all it had left to give.

When they’d each finally fallen into their own wordless stretches of thought and Aisling had retreated into a separate chamber, Kael didn’t wait long before trailing after her. He found her waiting inside for him as though she knew he’d follow. Of course she knew he’d follow.

One heartbeat, then another. The span of two heartbeats was all it took for him to cross the chamber and claim her lips with his own.

The kiss was harsh at first, and desperate.

Then, once they both realized the other wasn’t going anywhere, wasn’t going to pull away, it slowed.

Deepened. Became something less about claiming and keeping and more about feeling, remembering, cherishing.

Kael slid a hand under Aisling’s sweater to caress her waist, coming to rest against the small of her back as he lowered his head to press his forehead to hers.

“I dislike seeing you in another male’s clothes,” he said.

Aisling smiled and brushed the tip of her nose against his. “I hardly consider Rodney another male.”

“Lovely Ash, thanks for that,” Rodney called from the larger chamber. When she giggled, Kael captured it with another kiss. She tasted just as sweet as ever.

“May I stay?” Kael kept up the steady pressure on her back, holding her to him. If she asked for space, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull himself away from her now. He’d much prefer to never give her space again.

By way of answering, Aisling drew out of his grasp then eased herself down to lay on her side where she’d spread his cloak. His breath hitched, assuming it was as good as a wordless dismissal before she turned and asked, “Are you coming?”

Kael’s smile was wide as he sank down to lay beside her.

For several moments he listened to her shifting around before he swallowed hard and slid closer. He snaked one arm around her waist and she stilled, finally.

“Lift your head,” he murmured.

She obeyed wordlessly and he stretched his arm out underneath to cradle it against the hard floor. The muscles in her neck relaxed and she settled back against him. She fit there perfectly. He carded his fingers through her hair, coaxing her further down.

“You are so warm,” he whispered against her shoulder, relishing in the heat her body radiated—that which he had so craved since coming to this cold place.

Aisling hummed, already half asleep now that he was holding her.

He stroked her hair, her skin, soothingly.

Rhythmically. Hoping that each touch and reassuring gesture would communicate his unspoken thoughts.

And once her body had gone lax against his, he continued to run his fingers through her hair and skim his hand over her side, trying to convey the depth of his feelings for her even as they both laid silently together.

“Kael.” The word was little more than a breath, but hearing her say his name was enough to quell that compulsion and he allowed his hand to settle over hers.

He pulled her in a little closer. “Yes, alright. I’m falling asleep.”

The words were a half-truth. His body and mind were weary, but the thrill of holding her again, the hope and happiness coursing through him, made it difficult even to imagine sleeping.

Instead, he remained silent, eyes closed and body motionless while he let himself feel all of those things for the first time in a very, very long while.