Dream of Me/Believe in Me

suspected she'd be gnawing on the nearest piece of wood. With a grimace, she rose from the warm comfort of the bed and found her discarded gown. Slipping it on, she tiptoed soundlessly across the room and oh so carefully eased open the door.
    Two things happened at once: Wolf awoke, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and rose in the same instant as he demanded to know where she was going; and she almost tripped over the tray left directly outside the lodge.
    Brita, she thought with a smile, certain who had been so considerate—and so practical. “Just getting this,” shesaid, picking up the tray. As she turned back into the room, laughter broke from her. Her husband stood there stark naked, fists on his hips, managing to look fierce and sleepy at the same time.
    “You may not be hungry,” she said with a grin, “but I'm starving.”
    He muttered something about satisfying one appetite only to have another come along and got back into the bed. But he made no attempt to return to sleep. Instead, he propped himself up against the pillows, the expanse of his bare chest gleaming in the lingering glow of the braziers, and watched her with amusement.
    She all but swooned with delight when she took the cover off the tray and beheld what was there. Brita had remembered all her favorites—the cardamon-flavored rolls, the apples in cinnamon, the little rounds of ripe yellow cheese so soft as to be spreadable, the slices of cold chicken with mustard, the pickled red and green cabbage, even her favorite sweet cider that she much preferred to ale or mead. Although to be fair, a pitcher of ale was included along with slices of rare beef seasoned with peppercorns such as Wolf enjoyed.
    “There's enough food here for four people,” he said as she brought the tray over to the bed.
    Wiggling out of her gown, she smiled at him boldly. “You think so?”
    He was forced to reconsider as his slender, delicate wife proceeded to tuck into the largest meal he had ever seen her eat. She ate with gusto, savoring every bite and drop. The apples vanished first, followed swiftly by the chicken and most of the cheese. Had he not made a grab for the beef and some of the rolls, he had no doubt she would have devoured those, too.
    When she shot him a chiding look and licked her fingers, he said, “Would you like me to get more food?”
    She appeared to consider that seriously, but shook herhead, settled back against the pillows, and patted her stomach. “No, I'm finished.” She cast a glance toward the remnants of the beef. “I think.”
    He sighed and passed her the plate. When she had finally finished, he said very seriously, “You haven't been eating, have you?”
    She focused her attention on the far wall. “I wasn't hungry.”
    “Why not?”
    “I just wasn't.”
    He sighed again, a very male sound of patience being sought, and gathered her into his arms. She tried to stiffen against him but that was a futile effort. Quickly enough, her slender form molded to his.
    “I'll try again,” Wolf said. “Why haven't you been hungry?”
    “Because I had nothing to do so no way of working up an appetite?”
    His arms tightened a little around her, warning that his patience was running out. “Because you were confined?”
    Damn the man, he insisted on getting to the heart of it, didn't he?
    “All right, because of that. I hated having to stay in here. I hate confinement. When I was a child, Hawk tried keeping me away from everyone so I wouldn't … hurt. He realized after a while that it caused as many problems as it prevented.”
    This was the first time she had seemed willing to talk about her strange abilities and Wolf seized the opportunity. “How old were you when you realized that you were different?” he asked gently.
    She felt a moment's surprise that he had used that word—
different
—for people tended to steer away from it. The few who really knew the truth about her spoke of her “gift” and she supposed it could be seen that way. Butwhat was blessing was also curse and weighing everything in the balance, she thought “different” was as close to the full sense of the truth as it was possible to come.
    “I don't know exactly,” she said quietly. “I cannot remember a time when it wasn't there so it must have started very young. I have only fragmented memories of the period Hawk remembers all too well, and I suppose that is to the good. For a while, it was so bad that he drugged me with opium in order