He scooped her up, being careful with her bruised and scratched wings, and laid her out on the sofa. As he rummaged around in his box of medicine, he shot a look at the clock. It was only 1:00 A.M. Plenty of time left in the night. Plenty of time for her to heal before she had to return.

“Hello, magus,” she whispered

“Hello yourself,” he said bringing the supplies he needed over to her. “It’s been awhile.”

“Has it?” Her smile only showed flashes of a grimace now and then as he worked. “Your magic is strong as always.”

Nestor grunted. He didn’t know why basic first aid worked on her like magic any more than he knew why some nights she fell into his world only to disappear at Dawn.

“So serious tonight,” she responded. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Especially with you here to help me.”

“Why do I only see you now when you are in pain? Why won’t you talk to me?” he said slamming the lid of the first aid box.

Her smile fled. “I am at war, magus. There are those who will keep hunting me for these,” she motioned to her draconic wings. “I thought you said you understood.”

Nestor remembered the first time he saw her. She was beautiful, like something out of a legend. He had a hard time thinking of her as cursed or flawed no matter how many times she explained the troubles in her world. Even though on one level he understood all too well.

“I’m sorry. I just miss how we used to talk—before things got worse for you. I know it’s selfish,” he said.

“Maybe I feel selfish, expecting you to always heal me. Maybe I feel selfish asking for more.”

Nestor looked out his window. “Dawn is hours away. Neither of us is going anywhere right now. If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

Ada breathed deep, then spoke.