Snow rested her head on her husband’s chest. “I believe I had more confidence in making it to the keep since I was here at home.”

Her words pleased him, which annoyed him since she had been wrong to go off on her own and yet to hear her acknowledge that this was her home warmed his heart.

She raised her head. “I probably should have been a bit wiser in seeking out the cry for help myself, but I am glad Fasta is doing well and that I got a chance to come face to face with the creature.”

“You came face to face with it?” Tarass asked, thinking how close his wife had come to being harmed.

“I did. The creature placed its face almost on top of mine.” She scrunched her nose. “It had a horrible odor, but then what better way to hide your identity than to smell so badly one would turn her head away and not look closely.”

“You don’t believe in the dwarfs?”

“My mum taught me to respect the myths of our people and your people do the same. What is true and what are tales I cannot say, though I have my doubts.”

“I’ve thought the same. Someone wants to stir fear in the clan, but for what reason?” Tarass asked more of himself than Snow.

“There is one other thing I should tell you,” Snow said somewhat reluctantly.

Tarass got the feeling he wasn’t going to like what she was about to tell him. “What is it?”

Her reluctance remained as she drew out her words. “The creature said ‘we’re coming for you’.”

Anger and a bit of fear gripped Tarass as he rested his brow to hers. “I’d never let that happen, ást.”

“I know that. I know you’d always rescue me. You and Thaw.”

“Thaw and I work well together and we both will always keep you safe.”

Snow smiled. “And I will keep the both of you safe.”

Tarass chuckled purposely, since she couldn’t see his smile. “How will you do that?”

Snow brushed her lips over his. “I will shield you with my never-ending love.”

“Then I will feel safer than I ever have,” Tarass said and kissed her, his hands going to her tunic to tug it up, not wanting to wait any longer to make love to his wife. He moved his lips off hers long enough to pull the tunic over her head and toss it aside.

He worked her shift up, his hands going to caress her backside, giving it a playful squeeze. He was surprised when she pulled away from him.

“It’s my turn,” she said in a soft whisper and reached out, her hands feeling along his plaid until connecting with his belt and releasing it, then working to unravel the cloth that wound around him.