“It is my own fault,” he acknowledged.
She stopped her work and looked up at him. “You did the right thing, Morgan. No matter what your mother may think.”
Morgan gave her a little smile. He knew he could always count on Kat to take his side. “Thank you. I believe so too. You should have seen her, Kat. She looked so beautiful, even though she was in such pain. And she was brave—she didn’t scream or cry hysterically or carry on. She just sat there crying softly. But I could feel her pain. I just couldn’t have left and not helped her.”
Kat was looking at him with a very worried look on her face as he spoke. She didn’t say anything, but only looked more and more upset.
Morgan leaned toward his cousin and spoke more gently. “What is it? Why are you looking that way? I know I shouldn’t have healed her, but...”
“No, that’s not it. As I said, I’m glad you healed her, it’s just...”
“Just what?”
Kat shook her head, but didn’t say anything.
Morgan had never seen her so upset before.
A flower crumbled to dust in Kat’s trembling fingers. She pulled her hands away from the delicate herbs and wiped them on her dress while turning away from him.
“It’s what I came to tell you about.” She crossed her arms protectively over her body.
Morgan stopped grinding the herbs. He touched her arm gently, and was shocked to see a tear making its way down her cheek.
“It can’t be that bad,” he said, trying to give her an encouraging smile.
“Oh, Morgan, it is! And it is all my fault.” She hastily wiped away her tear, and took a deep breath.
Turning to him fully, she said, “Your mother was... was so angry yesterday after she returned from speaking with you. I’ve never seen her like that. She, she said things...” Kat paused, and took another deep breath.
Lowering her voice to a near whisper, as she did anytime she spoke of magic, she continued. “She said that very soon you would no longer be a threat to me, or to anyone. That in a little over a month, you would lose any powers you have and become just an ordinary man, and then the time would be ripe for me to take my rightful place. Your destiny would be mine for certain.”
Morgan felt a tightness developing in his chest, and anger beginning a slow burn in the pit of his stomach. He tried to think clearly, but with Kat’s words echoing in his mind, he just could not seem to form any coherent thoughts.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes,” she said in a whisper that left a taste of anguish in his mouth.
He turned and walked away from her, facing the empty wall next to the door.
He would lose his powers? But what about the prophecy that had proclaimed his greatness? The seventh child of the seventh generation... he was that child! That destiny, those powers, they were his. How could this be taken away from him?
He spun around to face Kat. “In a little over a month? My twenty–first birthday is in a little over a month.” In two strides he was back at her side. He grasped hold of her arms, anger still flaming inside of him. “What happens when I turn twenty–one?”
She looked up at him, her normally soothing hazel eyes now wide with fear and worry. “I... I don’t know. She didn’t say.”
“She must have said something. You’ll be turning twenty–one on the same day. She must have told you what to expect.” He gave her a shake. He neededto know. Now!
“Morgan, please, you’re hurting me!” Kat cried, twisting her body and trying to reach his hands.
His anger deflated immediately. He would never hurt Kat, he loved her with all of his heart. He didn’t want to hurt anyone—he just needed the truth. He let go of her arms, and instead wrapped his own around her body. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kat.”
Morgan could feel his heart pounding in his ears. He wanted answers so desperately that he was capable of hurting one of the few people in his life who had ever really cared for him. Kat, who had always been there for him, who had defended him against his sisters, and even, at times, his mother. How could he hurt her?
But still, he had to know.
She pulled away from him. “I wish I knew the answers, I really do. But she said nothing, honestly. I don’t know what will happen, but I’m afraid that if you don’t have your powers by then, you will lose what you have for sure.”
Morgan dropped his arms to his sides. “But how do I get them? I’ve been trying, practicing, and working on my magic for practically my entire life...”
Kat winced as he said the words out loud. He knew he shouldn’t speak of such things outside of a whisper, but there was no one here and no one nearby. To hell with hiding—Morgan had nothing to hide, or, well, nearly nothing. His powers were so limited.
“I know. I’ve been the one encouraging you, but... but maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe you’ll never...”
“No! I can’t believe that. I can’t allow myself to give up.” Morgan’s answer was swift and sure. He may not have powers now, but he would—it was destined! “You have always supported me, Kat, ever since we were young.”
She shook her head slowly. “You know I admire you a great deal. I mean, the fact that you have continually tried... and what you’ve done here in the forest, with the animals and the herbs—it’s just amazing. This is the most vibrant, safe forest anywhere. Are you certain it isn’t enough for you? Are you sure...”
“Don’t even say it, Kat!” Morgan’s voice was a low growl, but he couldn’t control it. What his cousin was saying went against everything he had ever lived for, everything he had ever strived for. Yes, he had worked hard to make this forest a good home for all of the creatures, but he did it knowing that his great destiny was waiting for him. His destiny, not Kat’s.
“You know that I don’t want it, Morgan,” Kat said, able as always to read his emotions before he was hardly aware of them himself. “I want that prophecy to come true even more than you do, but... the more I think about it, the more I wonder if what I’ve been doing, encouraging you in this way, hasn’t actually been... well, cruel.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you are never to going to gain any powers, no matter what you do...”
Morgan stood away from his cousin, straightened his back and held up his hand for her to stop speaking. “I am. The prophecy is going to come true, Kat. I will be the most powerful Vallen of my time and I will attain the destiny that has been laid out for me.”
Nine
Adriana stepped out into the clearing by the stream. She had walked straight through the woods, once again searching for Morgan. But she saw no signs of him.
He was not here at the stream either. She looked around. Was there anything that might point her toward where he had gone? Standing by the water, she scanned the trees for some sign of a path, of anything at all.
She couldn’t bear yet another sleepless night filled not only with visions of Morgan’s eyes, but of the rest of his body as well. She had to find him. She had to speak with him. She could not rest until she knew more about this mysterious man. She also needed to get her sketchbook back, and that, she recognized, was her best excuse to seek him out.
As she wandered about the river bank, a sudden shout and a crash caught Adriana’s attention. It sounded as if someone or something large had fallen. But that was not the end of it. Things continued to fall with loud bangs, clangs and crashes.
Following the sounds as quickly as she could, she moved through the thick undergrowth and between narrowly spaced trees. As she was about to step out from between the closely growing trees into a clearing, she brought herself up short.
She had found him! Morgan stood in the middle of the clearing, in front of a pile of wood with a black metal pot hanging above it.
Her heart was suddenly light. Happiness tingled through her just at the sight of him. He was so very handsome. Although the men she knew and admired dressed in the latest styles and Morgan didn’t even have a coat on, he stil
l made her heart pound in the most awkward manner. It didn’t make sense, she thought merrily, nearly laughing at her own foolishness. Suddenly, now that she had found him, she felt utterly, unreasonably giddy with joy.
He looked so strong and commanding as he stood there with his arm outstretched, palm facing the pile of wood in front of him.
“Fire!” he commanded.
Adriana looked at the wood, but there was no fire there. What was he doing?
She watched with growing confusion as he now pointed at the wood with his finger. He shifted his weight on his booted feet, firmly planting them on the ground, and then said again in a voice that sent a shiver down Adriana’s spine, “Fire!”
An odd sensation came over Adriana, as if there was a memory just on the edge of her consciousness—but she could bring it no closer. Somehow, what Morgan was doing resonated deep within her. A shiver ran across her skin, and she rubbed at her arms.
She shook her head, dispelling the thought. Did he really believe he could start a fire just by pointing at a pile of wood? The ridiculousness of the situation caught up with her and she covered her mouth to hold back her giggles.
Morgan, however, only seemed to have become angry. He picked up a piece of wood from in front of him and threw it at the pile, just barely missing the pot that hung suspended above it.
“I said, fire!” he shouted at the wood.
Now he was really being silly, and Adriana could no longer hold back her laughter.
He started, and turned at the sound. “Adriana!”
“Perhaps it would be easier if you used a tinder box,” she giggled, walking over to him.
He looked at the heap of wood, pausing for only the briefest moment before he laughed. “Yes. I wasn’t, er, I mean...” he stopped and laughed again. “You must think me completely insane.”
“Well, I did wonder for a moment,” she said, moving closer.
“I’m not, really. But I am very happy you’ve come.” He stopped suddenly. “How did you find me?”
“It was quite easy, actually,” she said. “I just followed all the yelling and noise.” She stopped a few steps away from him, but he continued moving closer.
“I’m sorry if I was being too loud,” he said, the smile growing on his face. “But I’m very glad you were able to find me. I shall have to try throwing wood more often if that draws you to me. I may not have started the fire, but I got something much better...” The ‘you’ was unspoken, but Adriana could hear it in her mind, nonetheless.
His voice had become quieter, and held a deep, rich timbre that made Adriana want to reach out to him. She held herself back, however, and contented herself with just looking up at him, and trying to keep her breathing slow and steady.
He was much taller than she remembered, but even more impressive than that was the mere presence of him. He radiated masculinity and virility. His simple white shirt, open at the collar, did nothing but accentuate what Adriana now knew lay beneath it. And the muscles of his strong legs were barely hidden by his tight buckskin breeches.
He stood so close, she could smell the fresh clean scent of his soap, tinged with the not–so–pleasant smell of the stable that lingered about him. She was near enough to him that she could have easily reached out and placed her hand flat against his chest just like...
And then she saw she had. How had that happened? There was something about him that she just could not resist. She had to touch him, to be close to him.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“I am yours.” The words echoed in her head and touched her soul, and she knew deep down that indeed he was.
“Yes, but, I don’t understand. I know you, but...”
“I don’t understand it either, I only know what I feel.” He placed his warm hand on her cheek. “And with you, I feel happy.”
“Yes! No one I’ve ever met before has made me feel this way.”
He smiled, and traced his thumb along her cheek bone. “I want to know everything about you.”
“And I want the same—to know you and to be with you.”
He gave a laugh. “Well, you’ve already seen me, all of me.”
Adriana gasped and took a step back, feeling her face burn with embarrassment. She’d almost forgotten—her sketchbook!
He laughed again. “It’s all right. I just wish I knew how you put your emotions into your drawings. And the feel of the sun and the sounds, and... they are the most incredible pictures I’ve ever seen. How did you...”
“I didn’t!” she said, interrupting his silliness. “It’s just your imagination. My companion says the same thing, but really, those feelings are not in the picture. How could they be?”
Morgan frowned, making his eyes look even deeper than they were naturally. “But I felt...”
“Do you have my sketchbook? May I have it back, please?”
“You truly want it?” he asked, his lips quirking up a little on one side of his mouth.
“Yes!” He was teasing her now, she could tell. Silently she pleaded with him. She was already embarrassed enough that she had been caught having drawn pictures of him naked.
After a moment, he took pity on her and turned toward his house.
As he was about to disappear into the neat little cottage, she called out, “You might want to get the tinder too while you are in there.” If he could tease her, she could do the same, she thought with satisfaction as he flushed before giving a little laugh.
She wished she could have followed him so that she could peek into his home and find out how he lived. She burned with a curiosity to know all she could about this confusing, fascinating man. But the voice of propriety inside her stopped her with “a lady never enters a gentleman’s home, and certainly not alone!”
She contented herself with looking around the outside, taking a turn around the clearing between the cottage and the barn. Morgan’s home looked very much like him—a little rough, but beautifully built, very masculine and spare. The one window of the well–proportioned cottage had no curtains, only plain wooden shutters that had been left carelessly open. There were no flowers growing by the door, but the area was clean and well–kept. It looked very comfortable, lived in and home–like.
Morgan reappeared, carefully closing his door behind him. Walking back to where she stood near the pile of wood, he took a moment to look down at her sketchbook in his hand. “May I... do you think I could have one of your sketches?”
“You want one?” she asked, amazed someone would. Her guardian had always told her they were awful, emotional hogwash. But Morgan actually liked them enough to want to keep one?
He gave a shrug and a little smile. “It allows me to feel close to you, even when you’re not here. I can feel you in the picture.”
Adriana caught her breath as she was engulfed by emotion. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her! She blinked back the tears that came to her eyes.
“Of course,” she said, her voice rough with emotion. She cleared her throat and tried again. “If you truly want one.”
“I do.”
She opened her book to the first sketch she’d made of him by the stream. It was the happy picture showing Morgan and his dog playing. She had wanted to keep it to remember seeing him having fun. The second sketch was much more intimate and full of desire. He was in all of his naked glory. Yes, perhaps she had better give him this one. It wouldn’t be right if anyone were to see that she’d even drawn such a picture.
She felt her face heat—she still couldn’t believe he knew that she’d seen him this way. She took a deep breath to dispel her embarrassment and even managed to look up into his eyes. They were filled with something Adriana couldn’t quite... oh, but she could—they were filled with desire. She was shocked to admit it, even silently to herself.
“Yes, that one,” he said, his voice deepened with emotion.
Adriana swallowed hard, and felt awkwardly warm all of a sudden. She didn’t dare to say a word, just
gave a nod and then carefully ripped it out of her book.
“Thank you,” he said, as she handed it to him. “I shall always treasure it.”
Her eyes met his. She tried to look away, to act like the demure young lady she was supposed to be, but she just couldn’t. He drew her to him, like a moth to the flame.
He was the first to break the spell, taking a step away from her as if it were the most difficult thing to do. “I’ll keep this carefully.”
He turned and ran back to his house. He slipped in and out quickly this time, returning to squat by the wood and set it alight. Not meeting her eyes, he gave a stir to whatever was in the pot with a large spoon.
“What are you making?” she asked, moving closer, unable to even stay two feet away from him.
“A potion to heal the animals,” he answered.
“A potion? You mean medicine?”
He paused for a moment then replied, “Yes.”
He kept his back toward her, and seemed to be muttering some words as he stirred the pot. He sprinkled in a powder from a wooden bowl sitting next to him and continued stirring and mumbling.
She watched, fascinated. “What is wrong with the animals?”
“They have the pox.”
Adriana gasped and took a step backward away from Morgan. The pox was very dangerous. She had heard that even being near someone with it could cause you to become ill as well.
He looked up at her then and narrowed his eyes. “Is there something you fear?”
“It... it is just that, well—wouldn’t it be better to simply put the animals out of their misery rather than try to heal them? You might catch it yourself if you get too close.”
Morgan turned back to his cooking. “No. I will not get it. It only affects the animals in my barn. This potion will cure them.”
“You know a great deal about healing?” Adriana asked, wondering if she dare ask about her leg and how he had healed it.
Morgan stopped stirring the pot. “I know about healing animals,” he said.
“What sort of healing do you do, aside from making medicine?”
Magic In The Storm Page 6
