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Tara

Tara stood in the hallway of an unfamilar house. Alarik and Wulfrik stood on either side of her. She stood in front of a doorway, which she guessed led to a bedroom. Framed in the doorway was a young man with onyx coloured hair. He stood a hair taller than 6’ 5” and despite his slender build, looked rather well muscled. As she took in the man before her, someone within the room spoke.

“That is rather unfortunate,” the voice was distinctly female and accented. There was also a quality to it that Tara could not place.

“My lady, please,” another voice from within the room begged. “Make this pain go away.” This second voice was also feminine and raspy, as if the person had been screaming at some sort of sporting event.

“Little Ylva, pain is but part of the process. In time, you will learn to live with the pain. One day, the wound on your heart will not be so raw and it will not hurt so much to think of him. Come now, my child, you ought to rest or you shan’t heal.”

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The first woman’s voice was soft, soothing almost. She had called the other woman something that Tara, even with her extensive knowledge of language, didn’t know. The man in the doorway moved toward the inside of the room. But something stopped him.

Growls emenated from the room. The closest was in the doorway. The man stopped and held up his hands.

“Peace, my children,” the first woman ordered. “His concern is for your mistress. Let him help her.”

The growls stopped but the one in the doorway stared past the man and directly at her. She froze. Though she had no idea about the size of the dog, she could tell it was large. When the man knelt down in front of it, she saw just how big it was. Movement behind the man and dog, caught her attention. She looked away from the scene to the movement that had drawn her eye. What she saw caused her to stumble back a half step. In the room behind the two in the doorway, was the girl with the silver-white hair. For a moment, she couldn’t say anything. Then the man stood, slipped past the dog, and entered the room. He picked the girl up, bridal style. She yelped at the contact. He turned them toward the door and when he did, Tara sank to her knees.

“Bloody hell, it’s you,” she whispered.