He absently wiped tears from her cheeks but managed to subdue the primal need to wrap both arms around her and kiss her, until her fear was gone and she begged him to touch her again.
"I don't like it here," she whispered, gazing up at him in distress. Her warm frame trembled.
"'Tis your home." The words were firmer this time, and he felt the shift inside him, the acknowledgement he had no intention of returning her to her world. What belonged to him was his forever, even if he was never able to touch the sacred skin of a battle-witch in the way of a lover.
They gazed at each other, the quiet night and moonlight providing a backdrop that reminded him too much of peace, a word he banished in Black Moon Draw, a word too dangerous to utter when his life and the lives of everyone in his realm depended on him waging war. He had always despised quiet moments like this, for a peaceful period meant he was not fighting or moving his armies into position.
For the first time since he was able to remember, he found himself enjoying the heat of her skin, the opportunity to study her pale features and gaze into eyes the color of sea-shallows.
"M'lord!" The squire's cry broke the spell.
The Shadow Knight released his battle prize with some reluctance and stepped away, facing the approaching boy.
"Does she live?" the squire asked anxiously.
"Aye, she does. Turn your head away, boy."
The squire's eyes fell to her then away just as quickly. He held out the clothing he had brought.
"Kill the rest of the critters in the trap."
Without hesitation, the boy drew a dagger and began hunting down the bugs.
The Shadow Knight faced his beautiful battle-witch with her wide eyes and near-naked form. His eyes swept over her while he held out the clothing.
'Tis a shame battle-witches are pure. Or maybe, it was good, for she was already distracting him from planning his next battle.
"Bring her back when you are done," he ordered her squire. Silently acknowledging the wisdom of putting distance between him and the most fetching woman he had ever met, he whirled and strode back to camp.