“I know.” And that was where the problem lay. He was going to see my back and I was afraid of taking the risk.
“Will you hold still?” he asked after a long tense moment.
“Only if you promise to never breathe a word of what you see.”
“This is ridiculous—”
“Promise me!”
“I promise,” he grumbled as he trudged out into the icy stream to where I stood. It wasn’t until he was almost directly next to me that I finally turned around so he could look at my injured right wing.
His touch was amazingly gentle as his fingers first glided over the feathers in a soft caress before slowly moving up along the bone. I flinched beneath that touch as he neared the wound and his hands stopped until my wing settled again.
“The bone might have been initially cracked, but it feels solid to me,” he announced after completing his inspection. “You’ll probably have to sleep with them out today to allow the healing to finish, but you’ll be in the skies again by sunset. I’ve seen far worse.”
I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he bent down and cupped his hands together so he could capture some water. He poured it over the wound, washing away some of the dried blood that was sticking to the feathers.
For a second I thought I was in the clear. Then he repeated the process a second time, pausing to stretch the wing out.
“Great Mother forsake me,” he swore, his hand stilling on my wing while his other hand rested on my left shoulder. At that moment I knew he had finally caught sight of the tree tattoo on my back.
“You promised, Rowe,” I reminded him desperately.
“Nyx,” he whispered in return. He released my shoulder and I could feel the cold tips of his fingers tracing down my spine along the massive tree that covered my back. “I don’t understand. You’re younger than I am. Younger than the ancient weavers, and yet . . .”
“I know,” I murmured, hanging my head. I could only envision what he was seeing. I hadn’t seen a reflection of my back in more than two centuries, but I could guess what was there—the branches now stretched over my shoulders and were starting to creep down my arms.
All naturi were born with the tree tattoo. It was a symbol of our connection to the earth. As we grew in age and strength, the tattoo grew as well, stretching across our bodies and gaining more details. My father had not kept me alive because of some deep love for his daughter. He had kept me alive because my tree had been more developed than any other child he’d ever seen. In me, he saw great possibilities, a deeper connection to the earth.
Unfortunately, it all had to be hidden. I was the Dark One. If anyone suspected that I might be stronger, more powerful, than some of our ancient weavers, I would be killed on the spot.
The fingers on both of Rowe’s hands traveled up my back again. He gently forced me to lower my wings so he could see the branches starting to stretch down my arms.
“The roots have reached the backs of your knees,” he whispered in awe. “At this rate, in a few years, the soles of your feet will be covered in the roots. You will be in constant contact with the earth and her powers.” His warm breath brushed against my neck, sending goose bumps down my arms. I could feel his body heat against my exposed back and the gentle brush of his shirt.
“If I live that long,” I muttered under my breath. With the war coming, I was no longer counting my remaining expanse of life in years.
Rowe abruptly stepped away from me, dropping his hands back to his sides. “Your tree is more advanced than Aurora’s,” he declared. “That’s why you’ve always dressed like you have. You’ve had to hide.”
“It was for the best,” I quickly argued. “Our people needed to believe in Aurora, and it would not have helped their faith in her if they knew that her younger sister had a stronger connection to the earth. She would have been dethroned.”
“And you would have been killed,” he said, finishing the thought to its natural end, but he quickly continued. “Why hide it now? Let the world know that you are stronger than her.”
I twisted around to look at him, holding my left wing to my front with my left arm. “I’m still the Dark One. They don’t follow me. They follow Cynnia. Our people still need the promise that I will never be their leader. No matter what strength the Great Mother may give me, I will always be in the shadows.”
“That’s wrong.”
We stood in silence, embraced by the darkness. Only the sound of the stream flowing around us filled the night air. He knew my great secret; the one thing I had hid my entire life from my people, and I felt that I could trust him. I just wondered how far he trusted me.
“Will . . . will you show me your back?” I asked.
“Why?” he demanded, suddenly very defensive.
“I can guess that the scars stretch across your body. I want to know if they had hindered the growth of your tree,” I admitted.
“Growth?” he scoffed. “Our Great Mother abandoned me centuries ago.” Yet as he spoke, Rowe grabbed the top back of his shirt and jerked it over his head. He stood with his back to me, facing the thick woods that surrounded us. Even in the darkness I could easily make out the white lines of the scars that crisscrossed his arms and went over his shoulders. There were a few that streaked through his tree, but I was relieved to find the tree tattoo had grown over the scars, indicating that his connection to the earth had not actually been damaged. It didn’t seem as advanced as it should have been, considering his age, but I could still spot bits of new growth near his shoulder blades.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
“Why?”
“Because I want to help you.”
“How?”
Instead of answering, I placed both of my hands against his warm back. Muscles danced and flexed under my touch, but he didn’t move. Closing my eyes, I spread my wings as far as I could, ignoring the pain that shot through my right wing. I reached out, pulling the energy straight from the earth and through my body. It left through my hands and poured into the limbs of the tree that graced Rowe’s strong back. He jerked once and then a low groan escaped him as relief rolled through his body.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just the power from the earth that was flowing through me and into his body. My own thoughts and emotions poured unbidden into him no matter how I tried to control the flow. I had admired and cared for Rowe for as long as I could remember, but was careful to hide all those emotions deep inside as I fought to become his strong comrade in arms. I was his second in command of the armies, the weapon of the queen, the protector of our people. I was the Dark One. I wasn’t permitted my own feelings.
After nearly a minute my hands began to tremble under the weight of the energy flowing through me and my knees buckled. I collapsed down into the icy water so it flowed around my hips. The cold water helped to clear my head from the fog that seemed to have grown around my thoughts, but fatigue still kept me on my knees.
Throwing his shirt on the nearby bank, Rowe turned around and knelt in front of me. He gently captured both of my upper arms in his hands, his thumbs slowly caressing my flesh as if he could push away the growing cold. My wings hung limp behind me and I no longer cared what he could see of my naked body. I was too drained and emotionally embarrassed.
“What did you just do to me?” he whispered.
I kept my head down, staring at the water that flowed between us. “I strengthened your connection with the earth. It had grown weak because of all the trials you’ve been through. It was like I rejuvenated your tree.”
“You can do that?”
A half smile twisted on my lips. “I learned long ago that I had more skills as a healer than as a soldier. Unfortunately, my father only saw my strength with the earth as a weapon of war.”
“I’m sorry.” He lifted his right hand and pushed some of my hair away from my face.
“It’s no matter,” I replied brusquely, lifting my eyes to meet his. “The important thing is whether I have won you. Will you help us?”
A smirk danced across his face, lighting his expression. “My brain still rebels at the idea of fighting against
