Disclaimer: obviously things are not mine, you know what is.

Ok, this takes place directly after chapter 7, so it might help to review what has happened from there.

This chapter is dedicated to LornaDoone, who is a really good friend of mine and created the scene with the bear. Thanks, you really help when things get stuck so all my few but faithful fans should be most greatful to you!

next chapter will be for everyone who has reviewed, especially Tei Hune...now on with the show!

Arram walked slowly up to the glowering girl. Diamond tears gilded her face and dripped slowly to dampen her brilliant blue robes. He watched for one long moment before he laid a tanned hand on her cheek. His dark eyes shone with worry, but she responded before he could ask, "You see me as a person, don't you?"

"Of course. You are a brave and brilliant girl. I would hate for you to change." He did not understand what inspired her question, but he refused to let her see herself as anything but the wonderful creature she was.

"Thank you, but everyone does. Some people more than others." Her eyes unfocused and stared off into the distance. Her lips pursed in thought and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened. What changed her from the confidant person she was a moment ago?

"What happened back there, with Ozorne?" he asked in a low, soft voice. It was so quiet, she almost missed it. It held a command and concern. His dark eyes burned with fear for her; a fear she was not used to seeing in these younger eyes. He was growing so much in just one day; it would have stunned her if she did not know what he would become.

"I don't want to talk about it," she snapped more sharply than she intended to. It was not his fault that the emperor was a sick man. It was not his fault that he was as powerful as he was. Either way, she could not bring herself to face him; not after everything that had already happened. She felt tears sting in the back of her eyes and threaten to overflow. Her ribs contracted over her lungs forcing the hot and angry breath from her lips as she fought for control over herself. The image of those burning eyes flamed in front of her face. It was horrible; she could feel the heat of his breath on her flesh. She shuddered and lost for one moment the thread of restraint she had sewn herself together with. Her shoulders spasmed and dark tears clung to her long lashes before falling after one long, pregnant moment.

"No, don't cry. I was just afraid, you seemed so upset. I was curious; I have no idea what could have happened to leave you like this." Here he wrapped her in a warm embrace. He kissed the top of her head, the only place he could reach. He murmured nonsensical things with his lips still pressed against her soft curls. When her soft sobs became silent, he slowly moved to step back, but she clutched at him with a strangled whine. He was afraid for her. She held onto him so hard that her fingers dug into his flesh like claws; he had no idea that they had performed that very function only moments before. He had no idea what had transpired in their time apart. If he had known, it would have made him furious. No one was to touch her; no one but him. As it was, his possessiveness of her was not yet discovered.

She felt so alone. Cold ran through her veins like a tidal wave rushing to shore. Her heart sang in terror, but she was so alone that no one could hear it. The hot sun beat on her back and burned her, just like his eyes. The golden yellow light pooling around her feet froze over and reflected his face. The madness in his eyes, in his every movement struck her like a whirlwind and threw her to land where only the Black God knew. She trembled like a leaf in the face of a mighty wind, but it was better this way, fighting for one's life and sheer existence rather than face the empty void spiraling down around her feet. That chasm was too much for her to bear; she felt as empty as it was and far, far colder. Without Numair, she was alone. She was left to hurl herself into the black foamy sea to be smashed against the stones by the waves because she was not strong enough to face the world on her own. At least, not a world where the pit of her stomach was heavier than any boulder and the air stank of exotic perfumes and fear. Here, her mind reeled and she felt herself slipping toward the brink of desperation. Here, she could smell the frost coating the burning soil, and what terrified her was that it calmed her beyond anything she could comprehend.

Just as she pulled herself together, she felt more than heard Arram begin to speak again, "Did he say something about getting you home? I know with this murder he will not be free as often to help, but I am more than capable of helping you. You know that." The only reason she did not ignore him was the look in his eyes. They were so warm and dark; they were inviting and comforting, reliable and stable. They admired her and held out an arm of consolation for whatever it was that bothered her. They held love.

"No, no it was nothing to do with that," she looked away for a moment trying to make a split second decision about what exactly to tell him. "He – he wanted something I had to give him, but I was unwilling," she almost spat. Arram saw the ice creeping into her eyes. The grays turned to the color of thunderclouds and the blues to the ravaging rapids that destroyed many sailors and their ships. "What was it that he wanted?" he whispered with a voice as grave as her expression.

"A service I would not give him," she was tempted to leave the issue at that, but a voice growled at her in her head that sounded suspiciously like her mountain pony, Cloud. So, she elaborated, "He wanted me to accept my position as a woman before him. He wanted me to submit to him; he – he wanted to bed me as though I am some cheap whore! I do not submit to anyone, least of all to a monster like him." Her face was dangerously pale, and Arram was sure his was a mirror image of it. It was too much for him to accept. Yes, he knew his friend was more aggressive with women than he was, but he refused to believe that he would try to rape a woman either. Then again, was that saying that he refused to believe Sarra? He trusted her word completely, but then again, he also trusted Ozorne's word inexplicably. Where did that leave him then? He was caught between two opposing forces and he felt torn. He waited a moment, sighed, and ran one large hand over his face. Sarra was distraught, no, she was furious. Her reaction, he was sure, was absolutely genuine. So that was proof that her story was true, was it not? He would go along with it for now, until he could find proof that perhaps she misunderstood. Yes, that is what he would do.

Out of the heavy pervading silence, Sarra whispered, "I know you do not believe me." She kept her eyes averted. Arram felt ice clutch at his heart. This was a girl he loved, but she was completely lost. She shivered and he wrapped his arms around her again. It was astounding how she could swing from fire to ice in moments. He feared for her; it did not seem right that she constantly rock at the brink of so many extremes. He whispered softly, almost as if he was trying to apologize, "He is my best friend. I have known him since the first year of school at the University. I know he is a hard person to understand, much less get along with, but I have a hard time believing that he would ever harm a woman in such a way." He waited and thought for a moment, then sighed, "But you have never given me a reason to distrust you in anyway in the time that I have known you. I do not know what to believe, Sarra."

Daine shut her eyes as if to block out the last words he had said. She swallowed and moved away from him slowly. Her voice trembled almost inaudibly as she began, "I do not believe I have been completely honest with you." She met his eyes filled with confusion; they were a dark whirlwind threatening to swallow her whole. "I have a secret. Well, I have many secrets, but this one is one I can share. It is one you should know." His face was revealing less and less. His eyes slowly moved away; he was shutting himself off from her. He was disappointed. Her throat was thick and constricted. Her words poured out in a waterfall, completely unchecked and unbridled. "I am a mage, but not like you. I have a knack with animals, but it's more than that. I can hear them, speak to them, become them. I have wild magic." Her fists were curled loosely at her sides, and as the last of her frantic words trickled from her lips, she folded them and clutched them to her chest in a small measure of protection and defiance.

A small smile teased at the corner of his mouth, but he ignored it for a moment. He looked at her; wild was her nature. He could see it now, the way she described it was perfect. Brown curls flew around her as if brushed with a raven's wing. Cognitive thought once more returned to him as he looked at the hard set of her jaw. He had never heard of wild magic before.

"I have never read anything about wild magic," he answered with a small amount of trepidation.

Her eyes took on a flash of determination. It was the color of diamonds and sapphires. It was harder than fire, and sharper than ice. It was stubbornness proportional to her countenance. "Need I show you then?" she almost purred. The spark in her eyes warned him to say no, but, alas, arcane curiosity was far more overwhelming.

"Very well, Sarra. What do you intend to do?"

"Don't worry," she smiled devilishly, "you'll see." With that, she stepped back from him and unlaced her sandals. She smiled apologetically at him and said shyly, "Afterward I'm going to need your cloak, so if you could take it off?"

He shrugged and peeled it off of himself to rest with it held limply in his fist. It was wilted like a tree without water. It was a dark pool in the sunlight, and she could see in its shadows. Dark eyes and waxen hands; fear flashing and blood welling; death prevailed. She shook her head to clear it of the images. She did not want to see. Not now.

With a sigh she pulled herself together and touched her fire. The copper curled around her and sang with approval. Exuberance flooded her being. She loved using her magic. The copper fire pooled where needed; it coated her bones and molded them into acceptable positions and sizes. Mass was added to them; her spine was stretched, and her ribs widened. Her feet broadened; her toes and fingers lengthened. Teeth were sharpened, enlarged, and multiplied. Her face stretched into a snout and distinct cranium with her eyes positioned forward in the dark slant of a hunter. Thick fur grew and spread over her body replacing clothes. She would have smiled at Arram's expression if her lips could curl in the recognizable human grin. The transformation was done almost before it could begin. The fire settled into her core once more. She rose slowly onto her haunches and levelly stared down at him.

Arram slowly backed away from the beast in front of him. It towered over him at about eight feet. Its claws gleamed in the sunlight. Sarra was gone and she appeared to now be a bear. She was a very large bear at that. He watched with horrified fascination as she reached out with one massive paw and playfully pushed him to the ground. The hard contact with earth seemed to shake him from his reverie. As he sat and stared up at her, a smile broke out on his face. She lowered herself gracefully to all fours once more and approached him. Once she was close enough, he reached out and tangled his long fingers in the thick, course fur along her neck. With amazement he ran his hands over her sides, head, legs, and spine. All the while, he rambled with excited murmurings like, "Astounding, there is no evidence that the creature is anything but a bear…"

Finally, Daine turned her head and wuffled at him before moved away from his hands. It was not easy to do; she liked his ministrations. His petting was calming and soothing, especially when he would deftly wind his fingers into her undercoat and massage the skin there. Once far enough away from him, she called the fire back to smooth her body back into its human shape. This had once been the hardest part of shifting, but now it took no more effort than the original change.

The fire was calm again and she turned without thinking to see what he had to say. She looked at him and he quickly averted his face, a blush raised a vibrant red flag to his flesh. "Perhaps, Sarra, the cloak?" he stammered. Suddenly, she understood his behavior. All she wore was the heavy, silver badger claw. A flush similar to his own flared over her face as she wrapped his cloak around her. Clutching it tightly with fingers white from the pressure, she called to him with shyness thick in her voice, "Arram, I'm decent now."

His answering smile made her flush all the more. "I saw nothing wrong with the way you were before," he responded with a sultry flame in his dark, dark eyes.

"What, you find eight feet tall and nine hundred pounds attractive?"

"What? Oh, well, no. It is astounding, yes and amazingly interesting, but most certainly not seductive and beguiling." He moved closer. She had the fleeting thought of running away; she even took one hesitant step backward, but his hand on her arm stopped her. Then, she made the greatest mistake of her day. She looked into his eyes. She fell into the twin swirling pools and watched the stars of emotion flicker in them. His pupils were wide, swallowing her whole. She could not move; she refused to move.

Slowly the space between them disappeared and she felt herself pressed against his body. Without breaking eye contact, his hands slid over her slides to rest at her hips. She felt his words vibrate from his chest through her hands pressed against the unyielding surface, "If it's too soon…"

She silenced him with her lips. She reveled in his reaction; he clutched her closer to him. His arm wrapped around the small of her back lifting her off the ground so she had to rise onto her toes to stand. His tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, and she yielded without a moment's hesitation. Light headed and elated with a giddiness like sweet wind blowing through her to fan a fire already flaming, she tangled her fingers in his masses of obsidian hair. They wrapped themselves in each other; they surrounded each other in the comforting glow of the other. Neither wished to move away, but Daine could feel her lungs began to scream for air. Before she could move away, his lips left her to trace from her nose to her eyes and over her ear. She clutched at him, desperate to stay with him. It felt as though he was burning himself into her flesh with every kiss, every touch from the soft pads of his finger tips as they delicately memorized each curve and hollow of her face.

His heart screamed at him to stop. The pain he felt with every touch from her was too much. It was like hundreds of knives burrowing into the part of him he could never heal again; at least not after an injury like this. She was a part of him now. He could not understand it. Never had he felt like this before. It was like walking through fire and diving to the deepest depths of the sea. It was life and death. It was heaven and hell. He could feel her tearing through the fabric of the universe and severing Earth from reality. Her blood pounded and throbbed with a rhythm of its own; it sang without him, but he liked the sound of it, the feel of it. Her skin was soft beneath his fingers. It was warm and compliant against his skin like honey and sunlight. She was perfect. She was wild. She was his, and he would not let her go.

Arram ran his fingers through her brown fall of curls. He smiled into her eyes sapphire dark with heady desire. Her chest rose and fell in a deep, rapid search for breath. Her face flushed faintly as she looked at him, waited for him. He felt himself yearning to taste her again, to crush her to him and never let go. Fingers itching to give into the desire, he did the only thing he could do. He wrapped her up in his arms and swung her around in small, fast circles with his lips barely brushing her ear. "You truly are the one and only Wild Mage," he whispered as she giggled with dizziness.

Quickly, they raced the silvery laugh of the moon to the room Daine occupied while on her extended and unprecedented visit to Carthak. Her feet made no sound as she slipped through the shadows trying her hardest to ignore the shadows that moved. Ignore the shadows that burned with hazel eyes maddened with power and control and shadows that whispered of dark futures and pain, the end of love. There were shadows that wavered on the edge of the world and shaped the broken and dying body of the proud, black robe mage. She danced and shied away from them. Arram clutched at her hand with a smile. He knew nothing of the foreboding cackles in the night or the sinister ripples of light over darkness.

Laughing, the couple slid into the small room. Arram reached for his magic and pulled the smallest thread he could from the black column that stretched through his core and sent it to the candle by the window. Fire sputtered for a heartbeat before shattering the yellow, wax candle. With a sigh, he squeezed Daine to him and muttered, "I know it never works, but I still try. Even little children with the Gift can light a candle."

She chuckled and laid her head against his chest. "Have you ever considered that maybe you're too powerful to light the candle rather than the other way around?"

"What? That's not possible. I have never heard of anything similar to what you are suggesting before."

"Arram, you've never heard of wild magic before, yet it exists. Besides, I know a bit about the Gift. Not just anyone could write a spell like the one you described to me, much less be capable of ever attempting such a feat. That's power, Arram."

"If I had power, I would be able to light a candle without destroying it."

"Fine, then, be stubborn," she sighed with a characteristic tilt of the head and flash in her eye. He couldn't help the retort, "Very well, I will be."

The way her face lit up with laughter made up for the temporary reversal into childhood.

Daine slipped away for a moment to change. She shrugged into the soft breeches and shirt of Numair's she had been wearing when Arram had found her. She had taken to wearing his shirt to bed to let his scent wash over her and drown out the shadows. Arram brushed up the crumbled wax with a few deft movements of his hand and two leaves of paper. He was rather skilled at this procedure by now.

She stood in the doorway by the bed. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders and framed her face. A small tilt to her mouth gave her a roguish air as she rested her head against the wall and crossed her arms before her. Arram leaned against the small table in the corner and watched her. He would do nothing tonight no matter how much he wanted to hold her. It did not matter how much he wanted to touch her, kiss her, press her to his heart. She deserved so much more. So he simply smiled at her and tilted his head so his hair fell into his eyes. "I have studies tomorrow. Will you be alright on your own?"

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you."

"I was just wondering," he pleaded raising his hands to the level of his eyes. "I may not see you tomorrow," he added with a slightly morose tone.

"Than I will come to you before you turn out your lights." She was smiling at him now. She moved to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Without thinking, he wrapped his own about her waist. She kissed his cheek and nuzzled his neck with her nose. "Now I'm comfortable."

"Well, stop. I can't think when you do that."

"You think too much anyway," she retorted with a saucy lilt, but she stopped. "I'll see you tomorrow; I promise," she added with a more serious tone and a chaste kiss.

"Then I can ask for nothing more," he replied and kissed her with slightly more fire. "Sleep well, my Wild Mage," he smiled as he left her room.

Daine waited to move into bed until the last waves of heat slowed and her thoughts no longer screamed to follow him.

Arram walked down the shadowed hallway to his own set of rooms. As he rounded the last turn, he saw a familiar gold apparition. She rested against his door and smiled and seductive smile. Once he was within range, she reached out with one porcelain hand and laughed a laugh better suited to an angel. Her figure was one a goddess would envy, but Arram could only think of another's. He smiled to her and listened to the golden ripple of her voice as she purred, "Arram, I have reason to believe you have been avoiding me lately. It is time you ask for forgiveness."

"Of course I haven't been avoiding you, Varice. There were simply matters I have needed to attend to."

"You could have at least looked for me to say so, love. Ah, well, it does not matter so long as you have not decided to run off and elope with a complete stranger."

He chuckled, opened his door, and led her in by the hand. "I would never run off with a complete stranger, love."

Alright, I know I'm am horrible. Its summer so hopefully you won't have to wait too long for my erratic updates to see what happens next!