Midnight Whispers - Paranormal Romance (8 page)

BOOK: Midnight Whispers - Paranormal Romance
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“And what of
my wife and her unborn children?” the man demanded, and Kyra’s heart clenched
at the pain in his voice, at the tears suddenly shining in his furious gaze.
“What of their lives? Do they mean nothing to you?”

Bryce
released the man’s arm and squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. “You know
that isn’t true,” he said softly. “But Kyra is destined to be my mate, and it
falls to me or the Alpha to mete out any punishment she deserves. However,” he
said, raising his voice so that it was clear he was addressing the rest of the
crowd, “I would ask you all to remember we are not barbarians, and we do not
punish or put to death anyone without proof they are deserving of it first. Or
are we to prove the humans right, who think we are demons and barbarians to be
expunged from this earth?”

He met the
eyes of each individual member of the crowd, who were all quick to look down.
Mutters spread throughout their ranks, but eventually they began to dissipate.
The man who had threatened to kill Kyra gave her one last fulminating look,
then turned on his heel to join them.

As Bryce
turned to Kyra, she noticed that his shirt was stained with blood at the
shoulder, and gasped, rushing forward. “You’ve been hurt!”

Bryce glanced
down, and then winced as Kyra grabbed his arm. “It’s alright,” he said, prying
her fingers from his forearm and then tugging her along. “Let’s go back to my
cabin.”

He stopped by
the communal well for a bucket of water, then led her indoors. Kyra watched as
he stripped his shirt off, revealing tawny skin poured over muscles. The hair
that dusted his chest lightly failed to obscure the scars on his
body—three jagged claw marks slashing across his side, and what looked
like a nasty bite wound on his left shoulder. She blushed despite herself,
having never seen the naked chest of a man before. The thick, bloodstained
cloth bandage circled around his right shoulder and beneath his arm.

He took out
some more cloth and then reached up to pull of the bandage, but Kyra stepped up
and laid her hands on the bandage before he could. “Let me,” she said softly.

Bryce
blinked, his hands stilling at the compassion and… guilt in her eyes? “Unless
you actually did betray our location, this isn’t your fault,” he said gruffly.
“You don’t need to feel obligated to tend me.”

Annoyance
flashed briefly in her eyes, and then she sighed. “I did no such thing, but the
fact that humans did this to you makes me feel ashamed,” she said as she
removed the bandage carefully from his shoulder. “Plus, I may as well make
myself useful since it is obvious that no one outside will want to have
anything to do with me right now.”

“I’m sorry
about that,” Bryce said, trying to ignore the tingles running through his body
as her delicate fingers brushed his skin. He held himself very still as she
cleaned the dried blood away from his wound. “We are distrustful of humans to
begin with, and incidents like this only make it worse.”

“I can
imagine.” Kyra finished cleaning the wound, and then gasped, her eyes going
wide. “This… this is almost healed!”

Bryce gave
her a lopsided grin. “Our kind tends to heal very quickly.”

“How
fortunate.” Kyra took a fresh cloth and redressed the wound. “It seems as
though you won’t be needing this for very long, after all.”

He took her
hands in his, brushing the knuckles softly with the pads of his thumbs. “Even
so, thank you for doing it.”

Kyra opened
her mouth to respond, but she couldn’t find any words—her senses seemed
to have gone into overload at being in close proximity to him. She was
hyper-aware of everything about him—the touch of his hands against hers,
the powerful thigh muscles pressed against her hips, the way his eyes locked
with hers. She was drowning in the depths of his irises, and taking a deep
breath, was drawn closer to him by the mix of spice and musk that was his
scent.

“Kyra,” Bryce
murmured, recognizing the dilation of her pupils and the racing of her heart
rate for what it was—similar to her reaction when she was lying, but he
could smell the scent of a woman’s desire along with it. Her reaction was
inevitable—the mating bond would push them together into completing the
ritual regardless of their personal feelings for one another.

“I shouldn’t
be this close to you,” she said softly, but made no move to get away from him.
“I don’t know anything about you at all.” Her lips hovered a scant inch from
his.

“No, you
don’t,” he agreed, but his voice sounded distant, as though it were coming from
another room, perhaps even another place entirely. “And I know nothing about
you.”

They stood
there for a long time, Bryce holding himself rigid, knowing that even the
tiniest movement could send him tumbling over the edge of temptation. It was
the hardest thing he’d ever done, resisting a woman when her body was
practically offering itself up to him. But through her hooded eyes, through the
desire lurking there, he could see her internal struggle, and he knew she
needed to make the choice. He refused to take advantage of her.

Eventually,
Kyra stepped back with a sigh, pulling her hands away from him. “I think it
might be best if you put a shirt on. I can’t seem to think very clearly right
now.”

Despite his
sexual frustration, he couldn’t help but grin. “You have no idea what
statements like that do for a man’s ego,” he told her, getting up and
retrieving a shirt from the wooden trunk at the foot of his bed.

“I’m sure you
don’t need to be told you cut a fine figure,” she told him as she sat down on
the edge of the bed, but there was a thread of amusement beneath her brisk
tone.

“And I’m sure
you don’t need to be told that you’re beautiful,” he said after he’d pulled a
new shirt on.

Kyra smiled,
but this time there was an edge of bitterness to it. “Such a flirt.  You
remind me of the men who used to request my company.  They were far too
easy with compliments, although I knew their only real interest in me was the
inheritance that I was due.”

“Your
inheritance?” Bryce frowned.

“My father
was an earl. He’d inherited a rather poor estate from my grandfather, who had
been a heavy drinker and gambler, but had a fine head for business and had been
in the process of renewing the family fortune. Unfortunately, he was a very
strong supporter of the King, and because of that our family was attacked by a
group of rebels who are very upset with the current regime. All our money and
belongings were taken, and our house burned to the ground.”

Bryce’s heart
clenched at the pain in Kyra’s voice. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sure
you’ve heard the words a thousand times, and I know they don’t take the pain
away. Is that why you came out here?”

“My aunt offered
to take me in. It was a better alternative to being forced into life as a
companion or a governess.” Kyra shook her head. “Sometimes I still wonder if
this is all a dream—if I will wake up and find myself back in my bed on
my father’s estate, listening to the birds singing outside my window. I’d get
dressed and go downstairs to find my father reading the morning paper at the
breakfast table and my mother sewing.” Her throat tightened with tears, and she
looked down, finding herself unable to speak any more.

“I wouldn’t
know what that kind of life is like,” Bryce admitted, “but I do know what it’s
like to lose your parents. A few years ago, my parents were slaughtered by
hunters. For a long time I couldn’t get a handle on my grief and I allowed it
to consume me.  But I realized that I was dishonoring their memory by
throwing my life away…by not treasuring every moment…every second.”

“I’m so
sorry, Bryce,” Kyra whispered, feeling the connection between them now, more
than ever.  “I’m surprised you can stand to look at me, never mind any
other human.”

“If you and I
had come together right after my parents had died, I wouldn’t have been able
to. And even now it’s not easy… but my instincts tell me you’re not one of
them, and I’ve always trusted my instincts.”

Not knowing
what to make of that statement, Kyra stood. “I… perhaps it would be best if you
walked me back to the entrance now. I know I’m not welcome here on a good day,
and that today, after your people have been attacked, is even worse. Perhaps I
should come back in a few days.”

Bryce was
surprised to find he did not like the idea of Kyra leaving, but he nodded. “I
don’t think it would be good for either of us for you to miss a few days. You
were supposed to come yesterday, too.” And he’d been unreasonably disappointed
when she hadn’t shown up.

Kyra lowered
her eyes. “I was seen by one of my neighbors on my way to the forest, who asked
me to join them for a ride. I couldn’t get away without the risk of being
followed. It’s possible it might happen again, and there isn’t much I can do
about it save for coming at night”

Bryce nodded,
her words only assuring him further that she was not responsible for the
attack—she wasn’t lying about what she said, which meant that she had no
intention of leading enemies to their village. “I’ll walk you out.”

 

****

The next day
her aunt did not take her afternoon nap—she declared loudly that they
were very behind on the chores and the winter preparation for the house, and
she and Kyra ran themselves ragged. By the time night had fallen, Kyra was so
exhausted that she fell into a mercifully dreamless sleep as soon as her head
hit the pillow, and didn’t wake until her aunt finally shook her awake,
admonishing her for being a lugabed.

Oh
,
Kyra thought crossly as she dressed and went about the morning chores,
if
only she knew!

Still, the
good night’s sleep put her in a relatively cheery mood, and she whistled
through the day’s work. They finished up the winter chores, and by the time
mid-afternoon rolled around her aunt was ready for a nap again.

“Go enjoy
yourself, Kyra,” she said, and Kyra noticed that her face seemed a bit pale. “I
just need a bit of rest.”

As soon as
Kyra stepped outside, she noticed Jake walking toward the house.  It
looked as though he had a slight limp, his shoulders slumped, and his steps
careful.

“Well,
hello,” he smiled, his eyes bright. “It’s been a few days, so I thought I’d
drop by. What are you up to?”

Kyra raised
her eyebrows, but couldn’t help but smile. “I was just heading out for some
fresh air. What happened?”

Jake grimaced
and pulled up his pant leg to show a bandage wrapped around his leg. “I had to
lay low for a bit after I came away with this bit of nastiness—mother
wouldn’t let me out of bed, never mind the house.”

“Oh, Jake,”
Kyra breathed, “How did this happen?”

“Two of our
newer dogs got into a fight, and I managed to place myself on the wrong end of
a pair of jaws while trying to break it up,” he said. “Unfortunate, but
thankfully not life-threatening. Hurt like nobody’s business.”

“I’m sure it
did.” Kyra frowned. “You really shouldn’t have walked all the way out here in
your condition. That leg needs to heal.”

Jake grinned.
“I wanted to see you, but… oh,” he groaned. “I think I need to sit down for a
bit.”

Kyra took one
of his arms and allowed him to lean some of his weight on her. “You’re a fool,”
she scolded, a smile tugging at her lips as they made their way across the
field.

“Well of
course I am.” Jake chuckled. “A fool for you.”

 

****

 “Got
waylaid yesterday?” Bryce asked as he met Kyra at the village entrance.

She nodded.
“A friend of mine. He was in a bad accident the other day.” And had used it to
trap her into an afternoon of cards with not only him, but his siblings as
well. She’d learned to play Whist and Cribbage, and had even won a few hands of
the latter, though the men had teased her, saying that it was a good thing they
weren’t playing for money or she would have been cleaned out.

“I’m sorry to
hear that.” Bryce took her hand and inhaled, expecting her sweet scent. He
frowned when it came to him mixed with another, darker scent—a man’s
scent. It must have been her friend she was talking about, and he was surprised
to find his hackles rising; he didn’t like it one bit. Something in the back of
his mind niggled, but he suspected his emotions were simply a product of the
mating bond, and he brushed it off.

“Everything
is very quiet today,” Kyra murmured, looking around. There were few people
outside, and yet she felt as if there were many more eyes on her. She caught a
glimpse of someone peeking at her through a curtained window before the person
pulled back, the curtains concealing them with a swish of floral-patterned
cloth.

“Does your
village ever have to go into town to buy supplies?”

Bryce
blinked, looking down. “Why do you ask?”

Kyra pointed
at the curtains. “The pattern on those curtains is very modern—it looks
like perhaps something bought in a merchant’s store rather than woven by hand.”

Bryce
laughed. “My sister, Leah, would be pleased to hear you say that. She is the
town seamstress and weaver, and most likely made the cloth for those. But we
very rarely go into town for anything unless it is an item we absolutely cannot
make on our own. We prefer to be self-sufficient. And the less frequent are
trips, the less likely anyone can follow us back and discover our location.”

Kyra nodded.
“If your sister truly can do such things with her own two hands, I think I
would like to meet her.”

“I was just
going to take you to her.”

Leah’s cabin
was only three buildings away from Bryce’s, and Kyra could already tell from
the outside that it belonged to a woman—the scent of baking bread wafting
out from one of the open windows, the potted flowers in the sills and by the
door, and the frilly curtains. Windows of a house were like the eyes of a
human—you could look at or into them and see the soul residing within.

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