7
Raven paused in the doorway to Dane’s study. The mound of paper, scrolls, and books had decreased since three moonrisings prior. The fire in the hearth was nearly out, and she guessed so was his supply of food and drink. Moving toward the enormous desk, she stepped behind it, then eased a hip on the top. A small, slow smile curved her lips as she watched Dane shift his attention, then blink to focus on her.
“I’m sorry. Did you call me?” he asked.
With gentle fingers, she eased his hair off his forehead, then used her thumb to smooth the crease that crossed his brow. Trailing her fingers around to his jaw, his chin, she marveled at the changing emotions in his eyes and decided she would always endeavor to understand and ease them. With her fingertips under his chin, she leaned down and
