overwhelmed her own feral impulse to fear and mistrust the child.  Mist had adopted a daughter, because she wanted a child.
	Without thinking, Tarrin reached over and set his open paw against Mist's bare belly, a belly tight with rippling abdominal muscle.  But when he looked closer, looked at her side, he saw the scars.  The scars of her near-death experience, the scar that showed where she had been wounded by silver.  Mist jumped at his touch, but she had little chance to make a more extreme reaction, because Tarrin reached out and touched the Weave, then reached into her, sending probes of Divine power through her to assess her physical condition.  That probing gently yet completely blocked the diminutive Were-cat's attempts to slap his paw away, even to get away from him.  It paralyzed her with a sensation of warm pleasure.
	It only took him an eye's blink to find it.  The scar tissue ran deeply in her, starting in her side and going right through both of the organs in her belly that produced the eggs that would allow her to become pregnant.  They had been ravaged by whatever had wounded her, probably a sword judging by the size and texture of the scar tissue, and because of that, they no longer functioned.  The wounding had made Mist barren.
	That was no problem.  Quickly and effortlessly weaving together a complicated tangle of flows of Water, Earth, and Divine power, the flows of healing, Tarrin snapped it down and then released it into her.  The healing attacked the mangled scar tissue inside her, breaking it down, puzzling out the body's original condition and then reknitting together tissue and organs to make it just as it had been before.  The jagged scar and skin surrounding it on Mist's side turned red, then the redness faded, taking the scar with it.  Smooth unmarred skin was all that remained.
	Mist finally managed to suck in her breath as the icy blast of Sorcerer's Healing worked its way through the warm sensation of the probe.  She grabbed his paw with both of hers, yet seemed completely incapable of moving it even a hair's breadth, locking onto it and threatening to crush his wrist in a powerful grip as the Healing worked into her, through her, eradicating the scar tissue, and the condition it caused in her.
	"Tarrin!" Triana said angrily as he blew out his breath and pulled his paw away, feeling the cold numbness of using up most of his energy.  "You stupid cub!  If I hadn't been here to choke that off, you would have fried yourself!  What in the furies did you just do?"
	He looked right in Mist's eyes, which were staring at him with a mixture of anger, confusion, and a strange fear.  "What should have been done a long time ago," he said in a weary voice, more to her than anyone else.  That had drained him of just about every ounce of energy he had, and he fought not to wilt onto the table.
	"What does that mean?"
	"There was a scar inside her that wouldn't let her conceive.  I removed it.  Mist isn't barren anymore."
	Those simple words hit the other Were-cats like a sledgehammer.  Shirazi gaped at him in shock, and Singer, who was in the act of standing, flopped back into her seat heavily.  But Rahnee gave him a single startled look, then began to laugh.  Kimmie smiled broadly, a look of sublime happiness on her face.  But Mist stared at him with that same furious look, but now a twinge of disbelief rippled through her eyes.  "You're lying," she accused in a desperate tone.  "You couldn't have done that!  Every Druid in Fae-da'Nar has tried to heal me!"
	"Tarrin's not a Druid, Mist," Triana said bluntly, staring at her.  "He's a Sorcerer, and Sorcerers can make a body heal in ways that aren't natural.  And if he said he did it, then he did it.  If you want, I'll check and make sure, but I don't think I have to."
	"Check," she said instantly, still refusing to let go of his wrist.  "If he's lying, I'm going to--"
	"You watch your mouth, woman," Triana snapped, her eyes blazing.  That immediately cowed the feral Were-cat, with a speed that surprised Tarrin, given Mist's powerful will.  "Threaten my cub again, and you'll deal with me.  Is that understood?"
	"Yes, Triana," Mist said with shocking submission.
	"Now shut up and stay still," she ordered, coming around Tarrin and putting a paw on Mist's belly.  Mist still had Tarrin's paw gripped in both of hers, and she merely moved them out of Triana's way.  Triana closed her eyes for a moment, and Tarrin could feel something, something that seemed to dance just outside the fringes of his consciousness.  When she opened her eyes again, there was no change in her stoic expression.  She stared at Mist, and then she gave her the slightest of smiles.  "He did a good job," she announced.  "Very clean, very neat.  He totally removed the scar, and repaired your ovaries."
	"I...I can bear children?" Mist asked in a tiny voice.
	"Yes," Triana announced in a powerful voice.
	Tarrin was looking in her eyes as Triana made that announcement, and he distinctly saw that tension in them that marked her as different from the others melt away, if only for the moment.  She looked into Tarrin's eyes in dumbfounded shock, and then she burst into tears.  She let go of his paw and covered her face with hers as Kimmie stood up and put her paws on her bond-mother's shoulders gently, her thankful look and teary eyes communicating her gratitude to him in ways that no words could.
	Tarrin winced and rubbed his wrist gingerly.  She'd almost wrung his paw off with that grip.  Mist was a powerful Were-cat, probably stronger than he was.  Rahnee was giving Tarrin a broad smile, and then Shirazi laughed delightedly.  Singer managed to come out of it, smiling at him.  "I'm glad I was here to see that," she finally said.  "Now I won't have to worry about Mist killing me."
	For some reason, everyone else thought that was very funny.  Everyone but Mist and him was laughing.
	"Uh, Triana, I really think I need to go lie down now," he said weakly.  "That took everything I had."
	"I should say so," Triana said.  "I can't take you anywhere without you causing a scene, do you know that, cub?" she said with a laugh as she reached down and scooped him up.  Being carried hadn't been what he had in mind, but he was in no position to argue.  Then again, he wasn't sure if he could stand up, and being carried certainly beat being dragged back up to his room by his hair.
	As she carried him up the stairs, Triana spoke to him softly.  "That was a fool thing to do, cub.  The Weave just about jumped out of its skin when you touched it.  If I hadn't been there to throttle that, it would have fried you to ash."
	"I'm sorry.  When I realized what made Mist react that way, I just had to help.  I did it without thinking."
	"I'll say you weren't thinking," she snorted.  "But, I can't say I can be too mad at you.  Mist's barren condition is alot of what makes her so contrary.  She blames the humans for it, and that was what's kept her from opening up more.  She has alot of anger built up inside."
	"What do you mean?"
	"Well, everyone her age but her has children," she said as she used her tail to open the door to his room.  "She's always felt alienated from the rest of us, hasn't felt like she belongs, because all her life, all she's wanted was to have one child of her own.  The others treating her like she's a cripple didn't help," she grunted as she laid him down in his bed.  "That's why she took Kimmie as a bond-child.  Kimmie helped fill a void in her, but it wasn't enough.  I told you before that Kimmie was the only reason that Mist isn't as bad off as she used to be.  Now you understand why."
	"Do you think Mist is going to be alright?"
	"I think she will," she answered with a warm smile.  "She's already feral, cub.  She'll never be anything but that.  But I think now she won't be quite so feral.  With luck, a child of her own will mellow her out a bit.  Maybe even enough to trust her own kind."
	"I hope so.  I just want her to be happy.  I know how it feels to lose a part of your life, and never have anything be the same again."
	Triana looked into his eyes, her gaze unwavering.  "I guess you do at that, cub," she agreed as she pulled the blankets up for him.  "I guess you do."  She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.  "Now get some rest, and no more unannounced stunts like that.  You'll make me old before my time."
	"Yes, mother," he said with a weary smile.
	"You," she smiled, tapping him on the nose with the tip of a finger, "are as much a pain in my butt as Jesmind ever was."
	"But you love me anyway, don't you, mother?" he challenged in a tired voice, but he managed to smile.
	"Gods help me, yes," she laughed.  "I wonder which god I offended to have them keep throwing children like you in my lap."
	"Maybe it's because you're the only one that can handle us," he said in a voice that took on a listless quality.  The warm bed was working its magic on him, and he was drifting very close to the edge of sleep.  "And I love you too."
	And that carried him down into the unknowing realm of exhausted slumber.
	Triana stared down at him for a moment, then she tucked the covers around him a bit more, with an utmost tenderness and awareness of the wound in his chest.  Then she patted him on the back of his paw and left him to sleep.

	Tarrin eased up out of a restful sleep slowly, becoming gradually cognizant of what was surrounding him.  Triana and Dolanna were in the room with him.  He could scent Dolanna right on top of him, and Triana was somewhere very close.  He could hear her paws on the carpet; she was pacing.  Triana tended to do that, as if sitting quietly was an impossible task for her.  She seemed to almost always be moving.
	"It is not unusual," Dolanna's voice reached him in his semi-conscious snooze.  "I have seen him handle a child with the most exquisite tenderness one moment, and then turn and kill with a savagery that surprises me the next."
	"That's normal," Triana replied.  "We're an impulsive breed, Sorceress.  We act on our emotions, usually before we consider the consequences.  It's part of what makes us what we are.  Were-cats like Tarrin and Mist tend to be more violent than the rest of us because they're feral, but they have that same general trait."  Her voice grew stronger, probably because she turned to face his ears.  "Tarrin's feral, but he still has a big heart.  That causes his some problems, especially when he reacts positively towards someone that his instincts tells him to fear.  Mist, on the other hand, has no such compulsion.  She's utterly feral.  But not for much longer, I hope."
	"I thought that it was a condition that could not be changed."
	"The condition, no.  The severety of it, yes.  There are degrees of ferality, Dolanna.  Tarrin is what you may call a moderate case.  Most of us are mildly feral.  Mist is the extreme.  Once you cross the line and go feral, you can't come back, but how you react in a situation can change.  Tarrin can tolerate strangers, even talk to them when he has to.  Mist absolutely will not tolerate them.  Tarrin has the capability to add new members to his list of people he'll trust.  If someone were to go out of their way and prove beyond any shadow of a doubt that they're worth his trust, he'll accept them.  Mist won't.  She'd probably kill anyone who tried, thinking that they were just trying to get close to her and hurt her when she lets her guard down."
	"That's paranoia, Triana."
	"That's part of being feral," she replied immediately.  "When you're feral, there's only them and us.  In Mist's case, there's only her and everyone else."
	"But she trusts you."
	"She tolerates me, the same way Tarrin can tolerate strangers," Triana said concisely.  "She bows to my power, nothing more.  It's submission to a greater strength, Dolanna.  She does what I say because I can thrash her, and she knows it.  But she doesn't trust me.  The only reason she stayed was because I forced her to."
	"Then why did she come?"
	"Kimmie browbeat her into it," Triana answered.  "Kimmie is the only one Mist comes close to trusting, and she doesn't even entirely trust even her.  To put it in human terms, Kimmie is a good acquaintance.  Not a child, not family, not even a friend.  Just someone she can talk to.  Kimmie faces death every time she speaks to Mist, because she knows that one bad word can set her off, and Mist wouldn't have any qualms about killing Kimmie.  That's something that most of the others don't really appreciate as much as I do.  Kimmie is the only one that can get away with deflecting Mist's anger.  I can't even do it.  I have to rely on my strength, and physically intimidate Mist into submission.  Kimmie does it with careful words."
	"I can do the same to Tarrin, as can his sisters," Dolanna said in a thoughtful tone.  "He would injure, even kill, anyone else who dared speak to him from anything other than a position of submission.  I never realized how primal his personality had become."
	"Primal.  That's a good enough term," Triana agreed.  "It's all about strength, Dolanna.  Tarrin is stronger than everyone else.  Anyone who doesn't understand that and accept it, anyone who doesn't submit to his dominance, is obviously challenging him.  He has to respond to that.  His trust in you and those other two lets you treat him as a submittant or equal rather than as a dominant.  He recognizes your authority, and he bows to it, because he sees in you a strength greater than his own.  He thinks of those other two as family, so they can treat him as an equal."  She paused.  "Are you about finished listening to us talk about you, cub?" she asked in a blunt tone.
	Tarrin opened his eyes in time to see her turn and face him.  "I didn't think you'd make it a private converstaion when you're in my room," he replied.
	"No," she said.  "I wouldn't say anything about you that I wouldn't say to your face.  How do you feel?"
	"Pretty good, actually," he said with a slight yawn.  "Just aching, but I think that's normal."
	"More or less," she agreed.  "Now that Dolanna here has a better understanding of why you do some of the things you do, we hope that she'll be able to manage you a little better when I let you go."
	"I had drawn some incorrect conclusions," Dolanna admitted to him.  "Your instincts and motivations are much more complex than I initially thought."
	"We may have instincts, but we're not animals," Triana said bluntly.  "Humans have instincts too, but they don't listen to them.  More the pity for you."
	"What time of day is it?" he asked, looking out the window.  The sky was cloudy, just on the verge of rain, and the continuous gloom of the clouds hid where the sun was.
	"Not far from sunset," Triana answered.  "You've been asleep most of the day.  And you'd better never do that again," she warned with an evil glare.
	"I didn't mean to," he said meekly.
	"I know.  I'm going to have to do something about that," she announced.
	Dolanna chuckled lightly, then reached down and patted his paw.  "Triana described what happened.  Dear one, in your condition, touching the Weave is not wise.  It would not be wise if you were completely healthy."
	"I know," he said in a bit of exasperation.  "I said I didn't mean to do it, Dolanna.  If I'd been thinking, I wouldn't have done it."
	"I know.  I just want to make sure you understand things," she assured him with a warm smile.
	"Where are the others?"
	"Well, Allia and Faalken are in the courtyard, playing," she replied.  "I sent Dar to the city's guild of bookmakers and paper pressers to buy some paper.  I was about to go see Renoit, as well."
	"How are they doing?"
	"The circus is still popular, so it brings in money.  Renoit has agreed with the leaders of Shoran's Fork to another two rides staying here.  I hope you will be fit to travel by then."
	"I think I can teach him what he needs to know in twenty days," Triana agreed.  "He'll be fit to travel on a ship in two."
	"I think I'm fit now."
	"You're still tender," she said.  "The rocking of the ship would make healing slower for you.  You're keeping your feet on the ground and your butt on restricted movement until the threat of reaggravating the injury is gone."
	"Yes mother," he said in a slightly teasing voice.
	"Don't sass me, cub," she warned in an ominous tone.  "You're not too old to spank."
	"I'm just kidding, Triana," he said immediately, in a coniliatory tone.
	"That doesn't work for me," she said after a slight pause.  "I liked 'mother' better."
	Tarrin gave her a slight stare, then he felt warm inside.  That she would let him call her "mother" was a sure sign that she totally accepted him.  It made him feel warm and safe, and it blossomed the gentle affection he'd had for Triana, blooming it into a deep love for the fiesty Were-cat elder, a love as deep as the one he held for his own parents, his sisters, or Janette.  "If it pleases you, mother," he said in a hesitant tone, yet full of emotion.
	"It does please me," she said with a direct look into his eyes.  "It pleases me very much."  She gave him a gentle look that convinced him of her sincerity, that told him of her affection for him, and then it dissolved back behind that stony mask.   "Let me go get you something to eat.  I'd better see some hot food, too.  I told those cooks to have hot food ready at all times.  I'm going to make sure I don't have to explain things to them again.  I can't tolerate repeating myself," she grunted as she opened the door, then stepped out.
	"My," Dolanna said after a second.  "I never thought to see emotion from that face."
	"She's not heartless," Tarrin defended in a vigorous voice.  "She's just...abrupt."
	"I know, Tarrin," she said in a gentle voice.  "You should be proud.  For someone like her to accept you is an honor."
	"I am proud," he said sincerely, looking up at his mentor.  "I hope I don't disappoint her."
	"Dear one, I do not think you could, no matter what you do," she said with a smile.

	It had been a busy evening.
	After eating, Triana sat down with Dolanna and began teaching him again.  Dolanna had become curious about the customs of the Woodkin, so Triana had allowed her to be present for the instruction.  That had lasted well into the night.  After Triana finished for the evening, Tarrin spent more time than he should have with Dar and Allia, playing King's Crown and just enjoying their company.  Then Dar went to bed, and Faalken replaced him.  Tarrin enjoyed the Knight's company, for he was irreverent and amusing, always trying to make Tarrin and Allia laugh.  He knew when to put on a serious face and be a Knight, but when relaxing, he was a completely different person.
	After Faalken retired for the evening, Tarrin stayed up to nearly midnight with Allia, just being near her.  The bonds between them ran deeper than even he understood, and from time to time he craved just to be near her, to hear her and see her and have her scent surround him.  The time recovering and the long sessions of instruction had cut into the quiet time he usually spent with his sister, time he wanted to make up to her.  The time they spent that night had been in nearly complete silence, as they sat together on his bed and read from the book teaching Sha'Kar that Keritanima had left behind with her other belongings.  Dolanna had become that precious book's new guardian, and had left it for them so they could brush up on their vocabulary.  They would probably have need of a complete grasp of the language, if they had to converse extensively with Keritanima using it.
	But time caught up with both of them, and the ache in Tarrin's chest began to get more pronounced, signalling to him that it was time to rest.  He said his goodnights to his sister and settled in for the night, thinking over the events of the day.  It had been a full one.  Mist had been healed, and Triana had accepted him completely.  Part of him still just glowed over that.  It made him proud to think of Triana as his bond-mother, to know that she accepted him just as completely as she accepted her own natural children.  He loved her, and he hoped that she loved him as much in return.
	There was a sound at the door.  It was slight, as if the person there didn't want to be heard.  Tarrin sat up, ignoring the little bite in his chest, staring at the door in the darkness brought on by the clouds hiding the Skybands and moons.  It was even dark enough to make the door's outline murky to his night-sighted eyes, but he could see from the light seeping under the door that someone was standing there.  He breathed in deeply through his nose, analyzing the air.  He sorted through the scents left behind by others, until he isolated the one that was emanating from behind that door.  It was very faint, but he could identify it easily enough.  It was Mist.
	What did she want?  Was she simply taking a turn at the door, as Allia and Faalken had done?  Was this her shift to stand guard over him?  Most likely.  He couldn't think of any other reason for her to be there.
	He'd started to lay back down, but the door opened quickly.  Almost as if she wanted to surprise him.  The light silhouetted her form, making him appreciate the powerful yet feminine outline of her body, hiding the features of her face in the shadow created by the candles behind her.
	"Mist?" he asked.  "What's wrong?"
	She stepped in and closed the door, then leaned against it in the way that Triana tended to do when she came in.  "I," she said in a strange voice, then she was silent.  It was quivering, unsure.  Afraid?  What reason did she have to be afraid?  She cleared her throat, then started again.  "I wanted to, thank you, for what you did for me," she said, her voice backed by courage, from the sound of it.
	"It was nothing," he told her.  "I'd do the same for any of my kin."
	"It's not nothing to me!" she said with ferocity in her voice, coming off the door and standing straight and tall.  Nearly defiant.  "You gave me back something I thought I'd lost forever," she said, her voice wavering again.  "I can't repay you for that.  Ever.  But it's only half of what I'm missing."
	Tarrin's mind began to consider the implications of that, but she continued.  "You gave me back the chance to have my own children, but--"  She came to his bed, leaning over him, and he could see into her eyes.  He could see the desperation there.  "But I don't trust anyone else, Tarrin!  I couldn't take a mate.  I wouldn't let anyone get that close to me, except for you!"
	That stunned him, but she didn't give him a chance to think about it.  "Give me this one thing, and I'll never bother you again," she said in a pleading tone.  "You gave me back my ability to have a child.  I want that child to be yours.  It can't be anyone's but yours."
	He shook off the astonishment.  She trusted him!  She actually trusted him!  That was almost as impressive as the fact that she wanted him to sire her child, something that made the human in him go into apoplexy.  Mist, who was so alone, had finally shaken the steel around her heart and opened it to another.  But it was fragile.  He could see it all over her.  If he rejected her, rebuffed her, it would completely destroy her.  She had finally gone against the very fiber of her being and let her guard down to another.  If he didn't honor the tremendous risk she was taking, it would make him no better than the worst villain in the world.
	What she was asking was serious, and she seemed to understand it.  It may not mean much to a Were-cat, for the males of his kind had no involvement in the rearing of a child, but Tarrin wasn't born Were.  His human sensibilities rebelled against what she was asking.  But there was no way even the human in him could look into the desperation in her eyes and say no.  It was too important to her, and he wouldn't deny her the one thing she'd dreamed of for a very, very long time.
	He reached up and put his paw on her arm.  "It's not a bother, Mist," he said gently.  "You don't have to think that you have to never see me again if I do what you want."
	"Will you?  I'm begging, Tarrin!  Please?"
	"It's too important to you, Mist," he said calmly.  "I wouldn't deny it from you, no matter what.  If it's what you want, then I'll do it.  But you have to get permission from Triana.  If she catches us in here, she'll flay us both."
	She nearly jumped up and down.  And she was trembling.  She reached down and put her paw against his cheek, then she turned and literally ran out of the room.  She almost didn't get the door open before trying to go through the doorway.  She left it open after nearly breaking it down trying to get out of the room.  She was certainly in a hurry.
	Tarrin blew out his breath and laid back down.  What was he getting himself into?  He wasn't afraid of Mist; what he'd seen was too much from her heart to be a lie.  She'd wanted a child all her life, and Tarrin realized that he was the only one around who could fulfill that lifelong dream.  He had healed her, but now he had to give her more to complete her dream.  And he found he was willing to give her that.  He felt so sorry for Mist, he had so much compassion for her, he would do anything she asked if it helped make her feel better.  He didn't love her, but what she wanted of him didn't require love.
	All he hoped was that she didn't close herself up again after getting what she wanted.  He didn't want her to be alone.  That was a fate worse than death, as far as he was concerned.  He would give her what she wanted.  He just hoped she would be his friend after that was done.
	He could hear them in the hallway now.  "Triana!" Mist said in a strangled tone as their voices came audible.  "I'll be careful, I promise!  I wouldn't dream of hurting him!"
	"I don't know, Mist," Triana said in a hesitant tone.  "He's still tender.  Something like that would open that wound again."
	"Triana, I swear that I'll be as careful as possible," she said in an adamant voice, all wheedling and emotion banished for it.  "He understands, Triana.  I know that much.  I've wanted a child for so long, and he's the only one--"
	"Laren is only a few days out, Mist," Triana said in a reasonable tone.  "You won't hurt him."
	"No," she said fiercely.  "I don't know him, and I don't trust him.  Tarrin gave me back my womanhood, he deserves to be the father of my cub.  I want it to be Tarrin.  Nobody but him."
	"So, you're saying that you trust Tarrin enough to--"
	"I trust him," she said bluntly.
	There was quite a silence from the hallway.  "Alright.  But if you open that wound, I'm going to rip out your spleen.  Do you understand me?"
	"I won't put a claw on him, Triana."
	"It's not your claws I'm worried about," she snorted.  "Go on, before I change my mind."
	"Thank you!" Mist said with an explosive release of breath.  Then she was back in the room, door closing behind her.  Her paws went to the tail of her ragged shirt the instant the door was closed.  "I'll be very careful, Tarrin," she assured him as she pulled her shirt off.  "I won't hurt you, I promise."
	"I trust you, Mist," he said calmly as she shrugged off her pants, then quickly yet confidently came up to the bed.
	"I believe you," she said in a sincere voice as she gently got into bed with him.  She put no weight on his chest as she leaned in and gave him a passionate kiss on the lips.  "I believe you."

	Tarrin learned two things from his interlude with Mist.  First, that his physical condition was just as delicate as Triana said.
	The second was that he had earned Mist's undying loyalty.
	She had admitted as much to him afterwards.  She had been so concerned for his condition that it nearly made it impossible for them to carry through with it, but Mist's powerful impulse to have a child finally overwhelmed her fear of hurting him.  It hadn't hurt too much, but it was worth the disocomfort to bring about a little healing in Mist's tortured soul.  Mist had been alone for more than half her life, living on the fringe of everything, a prisoner of her own fear.
	But she was a prisoner no longer.  Centuries of isolation flooded out of her in words, as she confided in Tarrin an entire lifetime of pent-up emotion, experiences, and secrets.  She told him absolutely everything, leaving nothing hidden, giving to him the totality of her in a display of the trust that had so newly found its way into her heart.  She had had no one else to talk to in so long, nobody that she would trust enough to hold the information that she gave to him.  She was an intelligent woman, understanding that it was her instincts that wouldn't let her get close to others, yet still incapable of conquering them.  Until now.  Tarrin's selfless act of charity had restored her body, and it had also allowed her to find the courage to overwhelm her fear and reach out to him.  At first, it had been solely because he was male, and was the only one that could get her pregnant.  But after she thought about it, she confided, she realized that he was the only male she would allow to get that close to her.  She had been struggling against her fear at first, even at the very thought of it.  Mating with him would require intimacy, a willingness to put herself in a position where he could harm her.  It required trust.  She hadn't had that trust at first, but then she understood that she would have to trust at least one male enough for him to get her pregnant.  Tarrin was injured, he was weakened, and he had the mighty Triana's respect and affection.  Those were enough in her mind, at first, to attempt to try.  She'd felt she could maintain control, and mating with a weakened male would allow her to retain the upper hand.  But then, she'd told him, she realized that he wouldn't harm her.  Not because he couldn't, but because he wouldn't.  She realized that, and when she did, she realized that she did indeed trust him.
	Trust him enough to submit her safety to him and go through with the mating, to put her naked throat within reach of his claws when she would be in no condition nor position to guard against her own safety.  She knew she'd be vulnerable during the mating, but the very thought that he would try to harm her had become ludicrous to her.  But still, knowing it was one thing, but believing it was another.  That was why she had been so nervous.  She had really reached deep into herself to bring herself to ask him, and he had fortified her own security in her decision when he had agreed.  Not because he wanted to mate with her, not be