he did to himself. “Your love for Katya is a well-known secret.
Why reject her now?” he insisted when Graham remained silent.
“I heard the old healer’s words. I may never walk.”
Graham’s accusing glare met Kyne’s. “You’ve forced life on
me, but I’ll not force my broken body on Katya. She deserves
a whole man.”
“Bloody moons!” What could he say? In the same situation
what would he do? Kyne had no answer for Graham.
Had Sianna saved Graham’s life, yet left his ka to perish?
***
Awareness returned to Sianna slowly. She stretched and
groaned as her body protested the movement, but the pain was
not truly physical. Instead her ka, the center of her being, felt
bruised and battered. Why did she ache so?
Graham!
She bolted upright. Warda gave a yelp as her sudden
movement dislodged him from her side. He slid to the floor and
gave her a baffled look when she ignored him.
How long had she slept? Last she remembered, the shadows
had been long. Now sunlight streamed into the chamber. Had
she slept through the night and into the next day? After a healing
she often needed as much as a day and night’s sleep to recover,
but at the valetudinarian the Sisters would watch over her patient
while she slept. Who watched over Graham?
Disregarding the weakness of her limbs and the wave of
dizziness that washed over her, she grabbed and pulled on the
clean tunic she found draped over a chair. Barefoot, she hurried
toward the door. Her feet refused to follow her orders, and she
stumbled.
Graham needed her. Had he died while she slept? Panic
and urgency filled her. She closed her eyes and reached out for
him. He was there, his consciousness veiled by slumber, but
strong and sure. A sigh of relief staggered her, and she sank to
her knees. Head bowed she waited for her strength to build so
she could go to his side.
She’d given Graham all that she could. Was it enough?
Memory of melding her energy with Kyne’s burst over
her. How had she forgotten? When her hands clasped his
against Graham’s body, she’d been jolted by the power that
flowed out of Kyne, into and through her. Though he appeared
unaware of his ability, Kyne, like herself, could heal with his
touch. Without conscious thought she had channeled their
combined healing force into Graham. Holding Kyne’s unfocused
power along with her own fading strength had nearly burned
her out.
Between them they had performed what she alone could
not have done—restored the possibility of mobility to Graham’s
shattered legs. Whether or not Graham would walk again now
depended on his own efforts.
Somehow she and Kyne were connected. But how?
“Two bloody moons! What are you doing, woman?” The
curse snapped her head up and drove out her questions. Kyne
stood framed in the open doorway.
Had she breathed too deep of the nika fumes and imagined
everything? Where was the gentle man who had caught her as
she fell and tucked her into bed? The healer who added his
strength to hers to save a friend? A hostile warrior stood in his
stead. She met his glower with more courage than she felt.
“Going to see to my patient.”
“On your knees?” Three strides brought him to her side.
His caustic tone and angry eyes made her cringe as he
reached for her. She hadn’t the energy to cope with Kyne now.
Graham’s healing required her entire concentration.
“If needs be, but now that you’re here you may assist me.”
She lifted her hand and placed it on his forearm.
“When quinar fly!”
She gasped and clung to him as he swung her into his arms
and deposited her on the bed. For a moment she lay stunned,
then ignoring the pounding in her head, she scrambled to her
knees and faced him. “I must see to Graham’s care.”
Legs spread in a stance of command, hands fisted on his
lean hips, he stared down at her. “Althea sits with him while he
sleeps. He has no need of you right now. Time and nature must
take its course. It will not speed his recovery for you to wear
yourself to exhaustion at his side.” His voice softened slightly.
A warm glow began inside Sianna. Did he have a care for
her? His next words shattered that frail hope.
“And if you carry Aubin’s babe? Would you sacrifice its
health with your foolishness?”
Aubin’s babe? “Have I no value beyond brood mare to
your brother’s child?” she whispered the question without
thinking.
“What would you have me say? You are a hostage, a pawn
to bring down your father. What more would you be?” Cold
and clipped, his words froze in the air between them.
What would he do if she told him there was no babe? That
she was not whom he believed her to be? That her father would
likely not respond to their demands for her return? That he
would abandon her to her fate and save himself? Would her life
be forfeit? She searched Kyne’s impassive face for a clue to
the emotions he hid so well.
Why couldn’t she see into his heart as she saw into the
hearts of others? What force blocked her empathic talent, yet
let them link to heal? And what of those times when she touched
his emotions and knew he felt hers as well, if only briefly?
Something other than blood prevented her from reading him,
for when they did join, the bond was stronger than any she’d
ever known. A communion, a merging of their kas.
He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her up so her eyes
were level with his. “Why did you dally with Aubin?”
At his touch, emotions jolted through her—Kyne’s jumbled
emotions. Did he feel hers as well?
“I...” She shook with reaction to the searing agony housed
in his ka.
“Wasn’t a marriage to Prince Timon and the power of the
throne enough for you? Did you have to break Aubin’s heart
then throw him to your father’s mercy?”
“You don’t understand.” She struggled to block the
maelstrom of dangerous debris whirling within Kyne—hatred,
anger, desire, guilt. Only his strong will kept the deadly emotions
from breaking free to wreck havoc and destroy him, but weak
as she was, Sianna couldn’t shield herself. “La...I loved Aubin.”
The pain of his fingers biting into her arms couldn’t compare
to the torment his pain caused her. Like a hungry water worm
he fed his passions with her life force and left her drained.
“Love? You used Aubin for your own selfish ends, then
cast him aside. You and your father are takers. What could you
know of love?”
Tell him the truth. Tell him who you really are, a small,
traitorous voice inside her whispered, and he’ll turn his hatred
elsewhere. And Laila? What will become of her?
Defeated by loyalty, Sianna pressed her lips together to
keep from revealing the truth.
Kyne clutched Sianna’s arms with uncalled for force, but
couldn’t loosen his hold. With his grip he fought the urge to
bend his head to hers and take her moist lips. He used harsh
words to drive out the need to push her back on the bed and
bury himself in her soft, womanly body, to ease with her heat
the chill of loneliness in his heart.
His efforts failed to quench his desire. Rage made him
rash. Why deny himself?
What difference would his possession of her make? The
babe growing in her belly proved her no innocent, that she had
lain with a man.
Even though the man had been his own brother, the thought
enraged Kyne. Sianna belonged to him. He would not share
her, even with a dead man. He wanted her hot and wet and
willing. He wanted to brand her with his taste, his touch, his
smell, until she forgot she’d ever lain with another man.
Until she forgot Aubin. His brother.
“Aubin.” He groaned his brother’s name.
Kyne felt Sianna’s twinge of pain as his fingers tightened
on her arms. Guilt doused passion.
“Let him go,” she whispered. “You need peace, and he
needs to move on.”
“I can’t. He’s part of me. The better part, I fear.”
Her slim hand spread over his chest. “You’ll always carry
Aubin in your heart.”
“Aubin was my heart. His goodness. His gentleness. His
quiet strength bonded my family, our people, together.” Kyne
laughed harshly. “I wonder if, when your father killed Aubin, he
knew he struck a mortal blow? Without Aubin we have no
heart. We’re lost, floundering. Though we fight on, to what
purpose?”
No longer could Kyne believe Sianna had any part in Aubin’s
death. The woman he’d come to know was caring and gentle.
She forgave without hesitation any who hurt her and gave
unstintingly even to those who named themselves her enemies.
She was as much a victim of her father as Aubin. With this
conclusion, Kyne found a measure of serenity in his desire for
her. Still, she was DiSanti’s daughter and had been Aubin’s
lover. Had she loved him? She avowed so. The thought caused
an ache deep in the heart he claimed he no longer possessed.
“You’re wrong. Aubin is still with you. Here.” She touched
his chest. “And here.” She touched his forehead. “You fight on
because it’s right to do so. My fath....” she faltered then
continued, “DiSanti is an evil man. He must be stopped.”
At her condemnation of her father and the feather light
brush of her fingers across his chest and brow, Kyne’s desire
surged anew. Purged of anger and guilt, his passion built.
Whatever their past, whatever their future, for this moment
Sianna belonged to him.
Her hands framed his face, and she pulled him down to
meet her kiss.
“I’m not Aubin,” he groaned against her lips, giving her one
last chance to stop him.
“I know.”
Her low moan reached past his anger. He loosened his grip
and closed his eyes against the accusation he would see in her
eyes, but unwilling to release her, retained his hold. Struggling
to regain control, he opened his eyes. Except for the rapid beat
of her pulse at her throat which betrayed her agitation, she met
his gaze boldly.
Taking a deep breath, he opened himself and sensed her
presence within him. Emotions not his own tugged at him—
longing, forgiveness, hidden guilt. No longer could he deny the
connection between them, the feeling that some unknown force
bonded them together.
He lowered her to the bed. Warda growled and bared his
teeth. At Kyne’s sharp reproach, the hound whined and slunk
away.
Honor demanded he punish her for her part in Aubin’s death.
Honor demanded he remain aloof from her. Honor demanded
he deny what his heart told him of her.
Honor be damned. He would have her.
***
Sianna closed her eyes as Kyne’s head swooped down
and his lips captured hers. Expecting to feel anger in the crush
of his mouth, his tender caress surprised an unexpected response
from her. At the sweet stroke of his lips, her body softened and
went pliant in his now gentle embrace. Warmth spiraled in her
belly, a tumbling, chaotic feeling that left her breathless and
yearning for something she’d never experienced, but knew she
needed to be complete.
This man, and this man alone, could fill the emptiness she’d
carried inside herself for so long, the aloneness, the longing.
Her hands fumbled with his shirt and trousers. She never
thought to protest as he stripped off her tunic and bared her
skin to his heated gaze. With a frustrated snarl, he ripped away
the remainder of his clothes.
Braced on his arms, he hovered above her, his skin gleaming
like smooth, dark honey in the sunlight. She lifted her hand then
hesitated. What did he want of her? Would he welcome or
reject her caress? His jumbled emotions gave her little guidance.
“Touch me.” His warm whisper stirred the down of her
cheek.
In a distant corner of her mind she felt the bed against her
back, the rumpled sheets and the brush of the silky bed robe.
Then the heat, touch, taste and scent of him surrounded her
until she lost any sense of where she ended and he began, as if
the joining of their lips also melded their spirits.
Doubts and fears melted away. They were one. Mind and
body. Her flesh his. His flesh hers. Familiar, yet new and exciting.
Like a baby first explores its own body, they discovered each
other. Touching. Stroking. Feeling.
Warm and solid, his chest muscles quavered beneath the
palm of her hand, and his breath caught in his throat. On either
side of her, his arms trembled. Made bold by his response, she
let her hand drift lower down the ridges of his abdomen. His
flesh was as smooth and hard as polished crystal yet warm and
pliant beneath her touch. She glanced up at his face, and the
look of naked longing in his eyes stirred her own growing desire.
Her fingers brushed over his heated length, and he jerked.
At his groan, she knew what he needed and cupped his weight
in her hand. A surge of heat shot through her own groin as she
experienced the touch of her hand on his body.
Did all people feel this way? Or did the unique bond
between Kyne and her make their mating different?
When he bent his head and took the peak of her breast into
his warm, moist mouth, her questions dissolved.
A sweet river of emotions swirled around them, their
essences blending into a rapid rush. Forgetting all that lay
between them, she let sensation carry her into an unfamiliar
realm of wonder.
Kyne felt Sianna’s presence, a part of him, yet separate.
How honestly she responded to his touch, no tricks or guile in
her reactions. The catch in her breath, the arch of her body
toward his, the flush of p
ink staining her chest and cheeks
revealed her arousal. She affected him far beyond the physical.
Made uneasy by the thought, he focused on the merging of
their bodies—the brush of skin against skin, the soft moistness
of her lips under his, the tingle of her cool, slim fingers grazing
shyly over him. He couldn’t stop his groan as those fingers
worked their way down his body and cupped him. Heat flared.
Need battled patience. Blood ran hot and thick through his
veins. Every muscle and tendon strained to let loose, to run this
race full speed rather than savor each sweet moment.
On a voyage of discovery, her hands, wanton yet somehow
innocent, wandered across his flesh and sought out his secrets.
Afraid it all would end before it began, he took her hands in his
and pinned them above her head.
“Relax and trust me,” he soothed when she started to
protest.
Clear azure eyes searched his. Before the tension in her
delicate wrists eased, he sensed her surrender. Satisfaction shot
through him as her lips parted slightly on a sigh and she yielded
herself to his care.
He released her hands and knelt over her. Though her gaze
followed him, she didn’t lower her arms or attempt to cover
herself. Bare to his view she stretched out on the bed, fearless,
a proud offering to some ancient god.
A cool harvest breeze contrasted with the warmth of the
sun streaming in through the open windows. Specks of dust
glittered and danced in the sunbeams, bathing Sianna in a
shimmering haze. With one large, calloused hand, Kyne cupped
her soft breast and stroked the nipple with his thumb. Instantly,
the pink bud puckered and stood erect, demanding attention—
attention he had no intention of denying it. Her breathy gasp
when his mouth closed over her breast echoed inside him. His
own nipples contracted and his stomach clenched at the sweet
suction of his mouth on her breast.
He felt her delight in his touch as he knew she felt his
pleasure in her caress. The realization that they were connected
beyond the norm unsettled him, but a torrent of sensation
dissipated his concern.
Breath whispered through her parted lips and her back
arched, thrusting her breasts upward in a silent offer. Her steady,
undaunted gaze never left his. Held captive by his reflection in
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