Free Gift of the Goddess by Denise Rossetti

at a silvery line. It didn’t come off, but a gentle tingle coursed through it.
    She rose and faced Trey. “You tell me,” she ordered.

43 Denise Rossetti
    Trey’s mouth opened and closed. He glanced at Brin, who watched the byplay with sardonic amusement. Then he shook his head. “Brin’s the shaman.”
    “And you’re the big mouth,” said the dark warrior.
    Trey bristled. “She’s not blind! She was going to notice sometime.”
    “When I was ready.”
    “For the one who’s supposed to be such an expert on women, you haven’t—”
    “ Tell me! ” Anje roared, pushing her way between them. “Or I swear someone’s going to die!”
    After a short, stinging silence, Brin sighed. Eventually, he said, “I had a vision.”
    “You’ve said that. So?”
    He picked up a leather thong from the camp table and wound it around his long fingers. “A vision of a woman who resembled the Goddess.
    “Once would have been portent enough, but the dreams wouldn’t leave me.” He shrugged. “So we came after you, with the dreams as a guide. We’ve been tracking you a while, scout.”
    “You’re joking!” How had she missed their presence? They must be superb at forest craft.
    “No.” He dragged his hair back and secured it with the thong. The line of his jaw showed strong and severe, set hard. Suddenly, he looked older. Weary.
    It might be ridiculous, but all this mumbo jumbo obviously meant something to him. Anje stalked to her pack and retrieved her last pair of trews. As she bent to pull them on, the torque shifted on her neck. With an uneasy twist in her gut, she remembered the way its magic had prevented her from leaving the camp. Leaving Brin.
    She looked down at her body and her mouth went dry. “What about these?” Hands frozen on her laces, she indicated the silvery marks.
    “Lufra’s claimed you, Anje. Those are Her wings. I was right about you.” The shaman’s dark brows drew down. “I almost wish I wasn’t.”
    “Why not?” she asked, feeling stung. Was there something wrong with her?
    Brin put a large hand under her chin and tilted it. “Because of what you are.”
    She jerked her head aside and glared. “And that is?”
    His lips twitched. “A warrior. Independent, bloody-minded. A true Child of the Mother.” She heard Trey’s snicker from the bedroll where he was lounging, unabashed and beautiful in his nudity.
    “My people are honored among the Ten Nations!” She stuck out her chin.
    “That may be so, but it’s a dangerous journey back to the lands of the Feolin. There can be only one leader.” He took her cheeks between his palms and stared deep into her eyes. “When I command, you must obey instantly, scout. No thought, no hesitation. Our lives will depend on it.” He paused. “And our souls.”

44 Gift of the Goddess
    There were so many things Anje wanted to say, they tangled together on her tongue. She drew a sanity-saving breath and exerted her will. Ticking the points off on her fingers, she gritted, “One, I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re lunatics. I have my duty. I’m a scout, with a report to deliver. Two, command is a matter of respect and trust. It has to be earned.”
    Brin grew very still. He dropped his hands. The air sizzled. “How have we forfeited your respect, Anje? Have we treated you with aught but honor?”
    Anje refused to take a step back, though her feet wanted to. Intimidation had no effect on a Child of the Mother. But how was it he made her feel so small? Surely, he wasn’t hurt ?
    “By your own lights, I suppose you have.” she admitted. She met his eyes. “But trust is something else entirely.”
    “True.” Brin took a step closer, until his body brushed hers. His fingers trailed over her shoulder blade and she shivered. “A few minutes ago, you had both of us buried inside you, Anje.” His voice dropped to a rough purr. “To the hilt. You gave yourself freely. If that’s not trust, I don’t know what is.”
    She licked