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Authors: Amanda Ashley

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BOOK: Beneath a Midnight Moon
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Certain she was imagining things, she rubbed her eyes and looked again.
And there, beneath a midnight moon, she saw two wolves frolicking in the night-damp grass.
She knew at once that the large black wolf was Hardane and knew, with the same certainty, that the smaller wolf was Sharilyn.
She’d been watching the pair for perhaps five minutes when a deep voice sounded from behind her.
“It’s something you’ll have to learn to live with.”
Turning, Kylene saw Lord Kray standing in the doorway. “My lord?”
“It’s in their blood, you know. You can’t fight it. Nor can they.”
“I don’t object to Hardane taking on the shape of the wolf,” Kylene replied. “I find it rather . . . fascinating.”
Lord Kray stared at her for a long moment, and then, slowly, he shook his head. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“It isn’t a shape he assumes. It’s a part of who and what he is.”
Kylene felt a sudden coldness creep down her spine. “Are you trying to tell me my husband is a wolf?”
“Aye, in a manner of speaking.”
“He told me once that the wolf shape is the easiest to assume,” Kylene remarked.
“Of course. It’s what he is.”
“But Hardane told me his brothers can’t change shape.”
Lord Kray shrugged. “It’s a trait that’s passed only to seventh sons, or daughters. I don’t know why the others don’t possess it. Perhaps no one does.”
“Did you know about Sharilyn when you married her?”
“Aye.”
“It still bothers you, doesn’t it?” Kylene guessed.
Lord Kray released a deep sigh. “Sharilyn has been my life-mate for more than thirty seasons.”
“You have not answered my question, my lord.”
“Aye, child, sometimes it bothers me greatly.”
Lord Kray crossed the room and stood beside his daughter-in-law, his gaze focused on the two wolves dancing in the moonlight.
“I don’t believe it,” Kylene said, though the proof was there before her eyes. “He can’t be a wolf.”
“You misunderstand me, Kylene. He isn’t the kind of wolf that prowls the forest and steals our chickens and kills our sheep. And yet . . .”
Lord Kray released a breath that seemed to come from the depths of his soul.
“And yet?” Kylene prompted.
“They are capable of killing.”
For a moment, Kylene watched the two wolves in silence. They were beautiful in the moonlight. Graceful. Powerful. Almost mystical.
Deadly.
“Has . . . has Hardane killed people?”
“In the wolf shape? I don’t know.”
“But Sharilyn has. And that’s what bothers you.”
“Aye. She killed a man to save my life. I should be grateful, I know, and yet it was so savage.” Lord Kray shook his head. “I’ve seen men killed before. Men have died by my hand, and yet . . . I know not how to explain it, Kylene. I know only that it troubled me greatly at the time, and I’ve never gotten over it.”
My husband,
Kylene mused.
The instant the thought crossed her mind, the big black wolf turned and stared up at the window, its fathomless gray eyes shining in the moonlight. And then, with a wave of its tail, it disappeared into the shadows. A moment later, the other wolf followed.
“Good sleep, daughter,” Lord Kray said, and after giving her a fatherly hug, he left the room.
Kylene stood at the window for a time, and when Hardane still did not return, she began to pace the floor, Lord Kray’s words replaying in her mind over and over again.
Something you’ll have to learn to live with . . . in their blood . . . who and what he is . . .
A sound at the door drew her attention. Turning, she saw the wolf standing in the corridor. She took an involuntary step backward as the contours of the wolf’s shape began to transform, the thick black pelt melting away to become sun-bronzed flesh as the four-legged creature took on its human form.
He crossed the threshold into their sleeping quarters, closed the door behind him, but didn’t approach her.
Kylene saw the tension in his face, in his taut muscles as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Does it change anything between us?” he asked, and she heard the wariness in his voice, saw the vulnerability, the fear, that lurked in the depths of his eyes.
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, knowing she might as well speak the truth before he read it in her mind. “I knew you could take on the shape of a wolf; I didn’t realize you were one.” She clasped her hands together to still their trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid it would frighten you. Afraid you’d run back to the Motherhouse and I would never see you again.” A melancholy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “And I was right. You are frightened.”
“How can you be a wolf?” she exclaimed, her anguish evident in her voice. “I know what your father told me, but it’s more than I can comprehend.”
“I’m not a wolf in the way you think, and yet the blood of wolves, of the Wolffan, runs in my veins. I can’t explain it any better than that.”
“What of our children?”
“They will be like other children.”
“Except the seventh one.”
“Aye. It’s both blessing and curse, Kylene. I can’t change who and what I am, not even for you.” He drew a deep, shuddering sigh. “Not even if I could.”
Kylene bit down on her lip as she tried to gather her thoughts. She loved him, she could not leave him. She nodded as she made her decision.
“Then we’ll have no seventh-born child.”
“You forget, lady, that you, too, are a seventh-born child. Would you rather that you had not been born?”
“But no curse was born with me.”
His eyes were as hard and gray as stone as he looked at her.
“You were born to be mine, lady,” he said softly. “Perhaps that is curse enough.”
The pain in his voice tore at her heart. She longed to run to him, to tell him it didn’t matter, but she stood rooted to the floor.
A muscle worked in Hardane’s jaw as he saw the uncertainty and confusion in her eyes.
Without a word, he turned on his heel and left the room.
The door closed softly behind him.
It sounded like a death knell in her ears.
Chapter 26
Feeling as though he had received a mortal wound, Hardane left the keep.
For a moment, he stood in the moonlight, his head thrown back, his hands clenched as he fought the searing agony that Kylene’s words had inflicted on his soul.
And then, because it was in his blood, because it had always been his way when he was troubled, he transformed into the wolf and began to run through the night.
There was solace in racing across the countryside. His senses were more keen, more alert, and he ran effortlessly, tirelessly. He caught the scent of rabbits, of squirrels, of deer and wild boar. The scent of feral wolves hunting in the dark of the night.
He had, on occasion, met his wild cousins in the forest. They were wary of him, sensing that, though he shared their shape, he was not one of them. And yet he could communicate with them, and they with him.
But it was not wolves on his mind tonight. It was the look of disbelief in Kylene’s eyes, the horror he’d read in her mind when she accepted the fact that he was as much wolf as man, that it wasn’t merely a random shape he assumed at will, but a part of him.
For the first time, he had been ashamed of who and what he was.
And yet he could not blame her. He knew, deep inside, that he should have told her the truth long ago. There had been times when he’d been tempted, times when he’d been on the verge of telling her everything, but he’d lacked the courage to confess the truth.
To risk the possibility of losing her love, of watching the affection in her eyes turn to revulsion.
He ran on, his sides heaving, his breathing hard, and fast.
Had he lost her forever?
After a time, he stopped running. Dropping to his haunches, he lifted his head and howled with misery.
And from the distance, like the echo of the pain in his heart, he heard the answering cries of his feral cousins as they lifted their voices to mingle with his.
Chapter 27
Kylene spent a long and sleepless night waiting for Hardane to return.
Sitting on the window seat staring into the darkness, she heard the far-off cry of a wolf. She knew instinctively that it was Hardane, that he was giving voice to his anger and frustration, to the agony her words had caused him.
Later, she heard other cries rise to meld with the first. Surprisingly, she could distinguish Hardane’s cry from those of the other wolves.
The real wolves.
The wild wolves.
Hardane was a wolf, but not a wolf.
He was a man, but not a man like any other.
Could she live with him, knowing that?
Could she live without him?
If only he hadn’t left her, if only he’d let her explain. And yet, what could she have said? She’d been appalled by what Lord Kray had told her, shocked to learn that the wolf form was not merely a shape he could assume at will but an inherent part of him.
If only he’d told her the truth sooner . . .
She shook her head ruefully. It would still have come as a shock and she probably would have reacted just as she had—with fear and revulsion.
Tears burned her eyes as she thought of how she had hurt him. He had never treated her with anything but tenderness and kindness, and how had she repaid him? By acting as if he were some sort of monster, unworthy of her trust, her love.
If only he would come home. If only he would give her another chance.
She sat at the window the rest of the night, watching the stars fade from the heavens, watching the sky brighten as night turned to day.
And still he did not come.
Burying her head in her arms, she closed her eyes and wept tears of regret and bitter self-recrimination.
 
 
A knock at the door roused Kylene from a troubled sleep. She mumbled permission to enter, and Hadj swept into the room, a covered tray in her hands.
“I’ve brought breakfast, my lady,” Hadj said. She glanced around the room, obviously wondering at Hardane’s absence.
“Did Lord Hardane request it?”
“No, my lady, I thought he was here . . .” Hadj’s voice trailed off.
Kylene felt a blush climb into her cheeks. It was the morning after her wedding and she didn’t even know where her husband was.
“Take the tray away,” she said, not meeting the serving girl’s eyes.
“Yes, my lady. Shall I draw your bath?”
Kylene nodded; then, swallowing her pride, she said, “Hadj, have you seen Lord Hardane this morning?”
“No, my lady.”
Kylene bit down on her lip, wondering where he’d gone. There was to be a celebration tonight, a feast to honor their marriage. Surely he’d be there!
She spent the morning in her room, alternately pacing the floor and staring out the window.
Where was he?
Sharilyn knocked at the door later that afternoon to ask if anything was amiss. Kylene shook her head, and then dissolved into tears. In minutes, Sharilyn had heard the whole story.
“It was wrong of him not to tell you,” Sharilyn remarked. “Does it change how you feel about him?”
“I don’t know.” Kylene averted her eyes, unable to meet her mother-in-law’s probing gaze.
“In the old time, the Wolffan assumed the wolf form more often than the human form,” Sharilyn said quietly. “There’s a freedom to be found in the shape of the wolf that can be found nowhere else. I know not how to explain it better than that.
“In those days, sorcery and witchcraft were strong in the land, and many believed that evil wizards took on the shape of wolves. Ordinary men cannot discern between feral wolves and the Wolffan, and my people soon realized that it would be wiser, and safer, to remain in human form.
“In time, our ability to take on the shape of the wolf faded from the memory of the people and it became a fable, told to scare little children into behaving lest they be gobbled up by the Wolffan. Now, only a few know the truth.”
“I hear your words,” Kylene replied slowly. “I know that Hardane has the power to change shape. I’ve seen him do it, and still it’s hard for me to believe that he’s both man and wolf, that it isn’t just a shape he assumes.”
“It is a truth few people can accept. That is why only a few of our people have ever married outside the Wolffan clan.”
“Then why was Hardane betrothed to a princess of Mouldour?”
“Because it was prophesied that such an alliance was the only way to bring a lasting peace to Argone and Mouldour.”
Kylene nodded. She understood what Sharilyn was saying. Marriage had often been a way to forge a lasting peace between warring nations.
“Did Hardane say when he would be back?” Sharilyn asked.
“No. He left last night and hasn’t returned.”
“I see.”
“Do you . . . do you know where he’s gone?”
“No, but I’m sure he’ll return soon. He loves you, daughter, you can be certain of that if nothing else.”
 
 
Hardane didn’t return that night. The celebration took place as planned, with Sharilyn and Lord Kray explaining that Kylene had not yet recovered from the ordeal in the Temple of Fire and that Hardane was comforting her.
In her room, Kylene stood at the window staring down into the garden below, wondering when Hardane would return. He had to come back, she told herself over and over again. After all, this was his home.
But the hours passed and still he did not return.
BOOK: Beneath a Midnight Moon
4.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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