Raisa tugged at the drawstring, forcing her finger into the opening. She dumped the contents of the pouch into her hand.

It was a ring in white gold set with moonstones, pearls, and sapphires.

“Oh!” she breathed. “It’s beautiful. Whatever made you think of it?”

“It’s modeled after a ring that belonged to Hanalea,” Han said. “It was—it was a favorite of hers, I guess.” He hesitated, as if he would say more, but decided against it.

Raisa tried it on. It seemed to fit her ring finger best, which was good because she wore the wolf ring on her forefinger. She turned her hand this way and that, so that the stones caught the moonlight.

She knew she shouldn’t accept it—it was too personal and costly a gift. And yet…

The shadows under the trees shifted and swam with gray bodies, brilliant eyes, razor-sharp teeth.

Raisa shuddered, as if someone had walked over her grave. “I never knew Hanalea owned a ring like this,” she said. “How did you happen to hear about it?”

“I—ah—I spoke to someone who is kind of an expert on Hanalea, and he described it to me,” Han said. “This is what Dancer came up with.” He paused, and when Raisa said nothing, he added, “If it doesn’t fit, he says he can resize it.”

“No, it’s fine, it seems to fit as it is,” Raisa said. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t tell anyone who gave it to you,” Han said. “If you—if you decide to wear it, I mean.”

“I will wear it.” She tilted her face up toward him. “I will cherish it. I just wish…I just wish we…”

As if to stop her words, Han pulled her toward him, pressing his lips down on hers so hard it took her breath away. Power channeled through her, undirected but potent, making her head swim. The wolf ring on her finger grew hot as it drew the power in.

Raisa wrapped her arms around his neck, molding her body to his, aware of the friction between them. Winding her fingers into his hair, she thought, I won’t give him up, I won’t. I. Will. Not.

But then Han straightened his arms, breaking off the kiss and pulling away from her. He looked down into her face, his breath coming shallow and quick, his eyes a fierce reflection of some kind of struggle within.

He threw his head back, the column of his throat jumping as he swallowed. Drawing a deep shuddering breath, he looked down at her again.

“Nearly all my life I’ve taken what I wanted, when I wanted it, with no thought for the future, since I wasn’t likely to have one,” Han said. “Do you know how hard this is for me? Do you?” He gave her a little shake like it was her fault.