Crystal Moon

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Crystal Moon Page 25

by Elysa Hendricks


  Only after she had blurted her question did she sense the fear

  he’d hidden below his anger.

  One hand flew to her mouth, the other settled protectively

  over her still flat belly. Did he realize what she admitted with

  her rash words?

  Rage faded from his eyes. “I would not let harm come to

  you. Could you not have trusted me?”

  Tension eased out of her body. All along she had seen past

  his angry words. “I never truly doubted you.”

  A curt nod acknowledged her belated trust. He said nothing

  of his babe, but his gaze drifted to where her hand rested, and

  his expression softened.

  “You know?” She ducked her head, shielding her face from

  his eyes with her tangled hair.

  He placed a finger beneath her chin and tipped her head

  up. “I know.”

  With his smile and soft words, the knot of fear inside her

  unraveled. Together they could face any challenge.

  He stood and pulled her up next to him. When her legs

  trembled, he swung her into his arms.

  “I can walk.”

  “Perhaps,” he agreed as he plunked her atop Hakan’s broad

  back. “But not today. I’ve wasted enough time chasing after

  you.”

  Though his tone was even, she could sense the crack in his

  inner control. Like grapes crushed in a mesh bag, the wine of

  his emotions oozed forth, a sweet, heady liquid that infused her

  battered ka with hope.

  When he swung up behind her and wrapped her inside his

  cloak, she snuggled into his warmth. With one hand he held

  Hakan’s reins. The other slipped under the heavy cloak and

  came to rest on her belly.

  “It’s time to go home.”

  Despite the warmth of Kyne’s bulk pressed against her

  back and thighs, Sianna shivered uncontrollably. Home. Like a

  lamp in the darkness the word beckoned her. She peered up at

  his face, but could detect no forgiveness there. If not for the

  reassurance of his gentler emotions flowing through her, his

  scowl would indicate his anger with her.

  “Is Castle Vareck my home?”

  A muscle at the corner of his mouth tightened and pain

  flashed in his eyes, then his lips softened and he looked full into

  her face. “Your home and life are now with me, my little

  Daughter of Light. From this moment your former life ceases

  to exist, and you are reborn.”

  The meaning of his words and emotions crashed over

  Sianna. She stiffened in his embrace. “You would have me

  deny my father? I cannot. Whatever his crimes, his blood flows

  in my veins. He gave me life. For this alone I must honor him.”

  Kyne’s eyes took on a wintery hue. “Why? There is naught

  to honor in such a butcher. When he is dead, he’ll soon be

  forgotten.” His grip tightened painfully. “You will forget him.”

  “You are wrong. We must never forget him. Only in

  remembering can we avoid a reoccurrence of his sins. And

  only in forgiving can we find peace.”

  “DiSanti’s blood on my sword will give me the peace I

  seek. Then the cries of those he’s murdered will no longer

  haunt my dreams.”

  A feeling of terror jolted Sianna as Kyne’s hatred stirred

  his unborn babe to wakefulness in her womb. “Sh-h-h,” she

  crooned beneath her breath.

  Cold and exhausted, she pulled away from Kyne’s harsh

  emotions. Later she would deal with his quest for vengeance.

  For now she settled deeper into his embrace. She soothed their

  fretful babe back into slumber and sought the same escape for

  herself.

  Kyne guided Hakan down the slippery mountain trail, his

  thoughts and emotions in turmoil. Sianna’s slight form resting

  against his chest had little to do with the heavy weight around

  his heart. How could he care for her? He refused to consider

  the word love. Daughter of his enemy, the man who had killed

  nearly all those he loved? The man who in his lust for power

  had brought an entire country to the brink of ruin?

  Yet how could he not care for her? Her actions proved her

  innocent of DiSanti’s evil. Her loyalty, though misplaced, could

  not be faulted. Could it be forgiven?

  Kyne splayed his fingers over her belly. Awareness fluttered

  through him. She carried his babe. The fragile connection to his

  unborn child eased the doubt from his heart if not his mind.

  Sianna was his. DiSanti would have no part of her.

  ***

  “Hmmm.” Sianna sighed in pleasure as a firm warmth

  massaged her icy feet. Where was she? Her eyelids flickered

  open. Shadows obscured the ceiling above her while firelight

  danced across the walls of Kyne’s chamber. She stretched and

  sighed again. On the bed, his body silhouetted by the fire behind

  him, Kyne knelt over her bare legs.

  Memory threatened to destroy this moment of accord

  between them. There was much they needed to settle between

  them. She started to sit up.

  Dark skin against pale, his strong fingers stroked up her

  calves, drawing a groan of satisfaction from her lips as she

  went limp against the bed. Rational thought was driven away

  by his touch.

  He glanced up and smiled. “Do you like? Or shall I stop?”

  His enjoyment in his action enhanced her own delight.

  “Please continue.”

  She watched as his hands glided around her knees, nudged

  them apart and kneaded her inner thighs, his thumbs teasing

  the sensitive flesh where her legs joined. Her breasts swelled,

  nipples puckering. Nothing covered her body. Suddenly shy,

  she tried to clamp her legs together, but he gently held them

  open with his own. Cool air swirled over her heated liquid core.

  Heat flooded her neck and cheeks at her obvious response

  to Kyne’s seduction. She closed her eyes against his self-

  satisfied, knowing grin. They flew open again at his intimate

  kiss, his tongue lapping the dew of her desire. Back arching,

  her fingers tangled in the dark, silky hair spread out over her

  thighs as he drove her on.

  Without warning, her climax exploded inside her, a burst of

  sensation so intense she cried out Kyne’s name. Lost in wonder,

  her body convulsed. Tears streamed down her face. “Oh, Kyne.”

  She stretched out her arms to him.

  His gaze locked on hers, he slid up and into her. Their bodies

  fit together without hesitation, a mighty sword in its silken sheath.

  “You are mine,” he growled in her ear.

  Despite his possession of her body, he still doubted what he

  sensed was in her heart.

  “I am yours,” she reassured him. As you are mine.

  “Always and forever,” he answered her unspoken words.

  His mind might deny the bond between them, but his heart

  knew.

  Then as he began to move within her, all conscious thought

  fled.

  Later, she curled against his side and listened to the steady

  thud of his heart beneath her ear. Above the heavy bed robe

  the air was crisp as the fire in the hearth had burnt to embers.
r />   The scent of wood smoke and sex perfumed the air. Sleep

  evaded her. Kyne’s disquiet seeped into her and banished the

  contentment she should feel after hours of his thorough loving.

  The weight of his worries were hers as well.

  “I will go with you to see Prince Timon.”

  “No.” His response was as quick and firm as his hold.

  She felt his panic at the thought of her condemned to die on

  the spike. An answering shudder went through her. “As long as

  I don’t attempt to marry the prince, I am safe from that fate.

  But, perhaps between us we can find a way to rescue the

  queen and princess from my father without the need of

  marriage.”

  “You are not going anywhere near the palace, the prince or

  your father. You will stay safely here.”

  “But....”

  “I’ll not let you risk the life of my babe with your foolish

  attempts to save your father from my wrath.”

  His babe? Hurt, she pulled away from Kyne. Anger heated

  her next words. “I have no intention of putting my babe in peril,

  but I must go with you to speak with my father, to convince him

  to give up his mad scheme. Perhaps I can appeal to some

  remnant of his love for me.”

  He climbed out of bed and began to dress. “You are beyond

  foolish if you believe DiSanti has a care for you. He loves no

  one and nothing beyond his quest for power.”

  She felt his absence in her arms and, with his words, he

  ripped himself away from her heart. Clutching the bed robe to

  her chest, she knelt and faced him. “And what do you care for

  beyond your pursuit of vengeance? Is there room in your heart

  for love? For me? For our babe?”

  He kept his back to her as he strapped on his sword and

  headed toward the door. “DiSanti killed my heart years ago. Is

  his daughter the Eternal One to resurrect it?”

  Sianna sensed the lie, but knew Kyne truly believed himself

  incapable of love. He thought he could possess her and their

  babe, keep them safe, but prevent his own pain by never giving

  them his heart. For to love meant the threat of loss, and he

  couldn’t bear to lose anyone ever again. He thought DiSanti’s

  death would free him of his burden of guilt and pain, but she

  knew it would destroy his ka.

  Before she could respond, the door closed behind him. The

  click of a key in the lock roused her from her stupor. She bolted

  from the bed and ran to the door. The knob rattled beneath her

  hand, but the door refused to budge. With a cry of despair, she

  sank to her knees and leaned her head against the wood.

  ***

  Aside from Betha’s twice daily, silent visits, Sianna saw no

  one for the next three days. On the fourth day when the chamber

  door opened, she rushed forward.

  “Please, Betha, talk to me,” she pleaded. “Where is Kyne?

  Katya? Zoa? Graham? How fares Lisha? I must know what is

  happening.”

  Though pity sparked in Betha’s eyes, she shook her head,

  placed a tray of food on the table and turned to leave.

  “Please, I’m going mad with worry.”

  Since her bonding with Kyne, their connection remained

  constant, but she received only vague impressions rather than

  clear feelings. Flickers of anger fought with hurt, betrayal with

  forgiveness, love with hate. He replaced the solid wall between

  them with a locked door and retreated from her presence.

  Betha paused at the door and, without turning, whispered,

  “Lisha recovers rapidly. Rul Cathor, Katya, Graham and most

  of the fighting men are gone from the castle. I’m not privy to

  their plans.”

  In his effort to keep her safe, Kyne denied the bond between

  them and went to confront her father. A shadow of future anguish

  shivered through her. They would destroy each other.

  “Now that people know your true identity,” Betha continued,

  “the Rul locks you in here for your own protection. There are

  those who harbor hatred in their hearts for any child of DiSanti

  and would do you harm.”

  Her own emotions in turmoil, in part because of her father’s

  and Kyne’s actions, but mostly due to the influence of the new

  life she carried, she found it difficult to focus on Betha’s. Unclear

  and unfocused, her babe’s feelings swirled through her and left

  her dizzy. Was the strength of her babe’s emotional connection

  with her normal? With no one to ask, she made a conscious

  effort to contain the babe’s disruptive influence.

  “Do you hate me?”

  Back still turned to Sianna, Betha’s shoulders sagged. “You

  risked your life for my child, and for that I owe you. But you

  share the blood of the man who stole my husband and other

  sons from me.” She left the room without answering Sianna’s

  question.

  At least Laila was safe. No one yet knew her identity. But

  what of Kyne?

  In six days, if she did not wed Prince Timon, her father

  would kill the queen and princess. Guilt ate at her. How could

  she have run away? Her fingers fluttered over her belly. Were

  hers and her child’s lives any more precious than those of Prince

  Timon’s mother and sister?

  Could she do something to prevent this tragedy? Persuade

  her father to abandon his mad quest for power? Reach some

  uncorrupted part of him? Perhaps Kyne was right and her father

  was truly evil, but she had to try. But how?

  She sagged into a chair by the fire and eyed the chamber’s

  heavy door. Through the window, the waning light of the day

  reflected blue off the Azul Mountains, casting the chamber in a

  shadowy gloom. By now last meal would be finished, the great

  hall quieting as people went about their final evening chores

  before they retired. Soon fires would be banked and silence

  would descend for the night.

  In a dark corner of the room lay her herb bag. An idea

  formed.

  When Betha returned with her evening tray, Sianna was

  ready to act.

  “Are you feeling ill?” A flicker of concern edged Betha’s

  question. She placed the tray on the table and stepped over to

  the bed where Sianna lay.

  As she leaned over, Sianna sat up, opened her hand and

  blew the powdered herb she held there into the startled woman’s

  face. Before fear could enter Betha’s eyes, they closed. Fast

  asleep, she slumped across the bed.

  Sianna scrambled up. With a bit of work she managed to

  remove Betha’s shawl and outer tunic and tuck her beneath

  the bed robe. Anyone glancing inside the chamber would mistake

  Betha’s form for her own. By the time Betha awakened, Sianna

  would be long gone.

  After donning Betha’s tunic over her own, Sianna wrapped

  the shawl over her head and shoulders. Similar in height to the

  plumper woman, if she kept her head down she might slip by

  undetected in the dim light.

  She eased the door open and peered out. Warda rose as

  she attempted to leave the chamber.

  “Don’t try to stop me,” s
he warned the hound. “I cannot

  wait here while Kyne needs my help.”

  At the mention of Kyne’s name, Warda whined and shoved

  his muzzle beneath her hand. Though far from a simple-minded

  beast, his emotions as complex as any person’s, Warda’s

  concern for his master was clear and sharp.

  She knelt, took Warda’s head between her palms, and looked

  into his eyes. “You’re worried about him too, aren’t you? Shall

  we go find him?”

  Warda didn’t object as she stood and moved down the hall.

  He followed at her heels. Together they slipped down the stairs.

  At one end of the hall, a fire burned low in the hearth, leaving

  most of the large chamber in shadows. The main entryway

  loomed ahead. She paused. By herself she could never lift the

  heavy beam that secured the latch, nor budge the massive

  aronwood door.

  “Sianna.” Damaged by her father’s sword stroke, Laila’s

  voice rasped from behind her.

  Hand to her chest, Sianna spun around. Warda pressed

  closer, but otherwise didn’t react. “Laila! Where do you think

  you’re going? You shouldn’t yet be out of bed. You’ll tear loose

  your stitches.”

  Laila gripped Sianna’s arm and pulled her to the edge of

  the hall, out of sight of any casual observer. “The same place

  as you, I would imagine. To confront our father.” She spat the

  words.

  Even in the dark, Sianna could see the lines of pain on

  Laila’s face, her pallor. “You’re in no condition to confront

  anyone. Let me help you back to bed. No one here yet knows

  your true identity, so you’re safe. Rest. If not for your own

  sake, then for the sake of the babe you carry.”

  Laila’s hand covered her belly in a protective gesture, then

  her fingers curled into a tight fist. “Aubin’s babe cries to me for

  vengeance. Until DiSanti lies dead by my hand, I’ll not rest.”

  Sianna couldn’t control her gasp. “You would kill your own

  father?”

  “Father?” Laila croaked. “I have no father. Planting a seed

  in a woman’s belly does not make a man a father.” Her fingers

  traced the wound running across her throat and down her chest.

  “I owe him for this. And murdering my unborn babe’s father.”

  “No,” Sianna whispered. For too long she’d harbored a

  hope that Kyne and the others were wrong about her father.

 

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