Free Dream Shard by Mary Wine

teasing her. His tone was deep and brassy. It was tempting to reach down and scoop up a handful of mud to chuck at him.
    “Actually, yes, it is, when one is seeking purification in a private pool.” The tip of her rod bent down and she pulled back. The last of the sun’s rays glistened off the body of the fish as she swung it up onto shore with the first three she’d caught.
    “What happened to send you looking for relief?”
    She busied herself with preparing the fish for supper. Once the light was gone, they’d have to put the fire out so she struck a flint and got it going. When the fish were gutted, she threaded them onto a stick and set them to roast. Her mouth was already watering.
    “Not bad, Kalin. Only Grace shuts me out so well.”
    She jerked her head up to look at him. He wasn’t looking at her though. He was lost in recollection, some fragment of his life surfacing. Frustration bled off him in a thick wave and he cussed a moment later. He turned and tossed the remaining branches he’d cut from nearby trees onto their shelter.
    It was sort of a half tipi made of logs up against a granite rock face with the branches laid over them. She tried to dismiss the idea that it was full of spiders. It really couldn’t be, since he’d just cut the branches down, but she shuddered anyway.
    The fish started to smell good. Her belly rumbled low and deep. Aside from her cup of oil, she’d had nothing all day. The fire drew her attention and his too. He moved closer and hunched down, his expression still full of frustration.
    She served him his fish on a flat rock and burned her fingers as she tried to eat hers before it cooled. Washing up entailed a trip to the water to swish her hands about. With the light gone, she hurried back to the fire to warm her chilled fingers. Devon gave her only a few moments before he kicked dirt over the flames. He stomped the coal and dumped water over the spot to make sure there was no heat.
    “Sunrise is early,” he informed her. “Better sleep while we can.”
    It was logical, but she still hesitated before crawling into the shelter. The inside smelled of fresh pine and he’d swept the rocks away to make a smooth floor. The ceiling was low and she had to crawl inside on her knees.
    “We’re going to want to be closer. Body heat is all we have.”
    Kalin was leaning against the rock face he’d used to branch the shelter against with her knees drawn up against her chest. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up and found another jacket in the backpack.
    “I’ll be fine.”
    There wasn’t much light inside the shelter and it cast a strange mood over the moment. She whispered because it felt right.
    Devon made a soft sound before he stretched his legs out in front of her. “You’re being stubborn.”
    “Maybe I’m being wise.”
    He was watching her, the minuscule light reflecting off his eyes. He looked so at ease, so confident that part of her was jealous. She felt exposed, the night surrounding them something she wanted separated from her by sturdy walls. Her muscles were tense as she waited for someone to rip the shelter apart to get at them. Not Devon. He almost looked like he was more at home than anywhere else. There was something fearless about him, and she found it too attractive for her own good.
    “Grace might be your wife.”
    “Heather was my wife.” He responded immediately, the memory surprising him. She heard him snarl and watched his finger curl into a fist.
    “It’s a good sign actually.”
    “Not if you knew what I remembered about her.”
    His tone was edged with rage. She hadn’t felt so much curiosity since the first day when he’d been so quick to tell her someone might want to kill her if she let them know he was there. A chill raced along her arms and she hugged herself, but she was left with the bitter knowledge that reality wasn’t going to be so easy to banish.
    “Intense memories are always the first ones to return.”
    It was still a