Beneath a Midnight Moon

With the seventh month rapidly approaching, the whole castle was in constant turmoil. The housemaids and the scullery maids were busy from dawn till dark, making sure that every tablecloth, every tapestry was brushed clean. The bed linens were washed and aired, the rushes replaced. All the silver was polished until it gleamed. The crystal sparkled like the sun.



The gardens were weeded, the shrubs pruned, the lakes and waterways cleaned of fallen leaves and debris.



Sharilyn toured the entire castle from the lowliest dungeon to the uppermost turrets, making certain that every cobweb, every speck of dust, had been thoroughly swept away.



The castle seamstresses sewed hour after hour, making new wardrobes: a dress of deep royal blue satin and silk for Sharilyn, a gown of forest green velvet for Kylene, a gown of soft shimmering silver for Selene. The royal tailors produced new clothes for Hardane and Lord Kray as well.



Amid all the fuss, Dubrey continued to court Kylene. He sought her company often and eagerly, his sincerity stealing her affection if not her heart. Of all the brothers, he was the most like Hardane, and sometimes, on dark, lonely nights in her room, she let herself wonder what it would be like to marry Dubrey. Even though she doubted Hardane would ever be hers, the thought of spending the rest of her life in the Motherhouse no longer held any appeal. And if she could not have Hardane, perhaps she might find a measure of happiness with Dubrey.



She was thinking of that now as she sat on the balcony outside her chamber. She had not seen Hardane alone since the night of the ball when he had promised he would find a way for them to be together. As much as she yearned to believe, needed to believe, she was afraid to trust him, afraid of being hurt again.



She had tried to search her own heart and soul, tried to find some deep inner sense that she was indeed the firstborn twin, but no such knowledge came forth. She had no memory of her childhood, only an abiding fear of water that she could not explain. The first face she remembered was that of Mother Dorissa bending over her bed, begging her not to cry, but she couldn't recall why she had been crying.



Later, growing up, she had always felt different from the others, a woman apart, even though she had been treated much the same as the other members of the Sisterhood.



Thinking back, she tried to recall why she had felt that way, but it was more of a feeling, a sense that she had been destined for something else, rather than anything that had been said or done.



Was she truly the firstborn twin, betrothed to Hardane, as he believed? Had her sisters in the Motherhouse known that she was a princess, born to marry into the House of Argone? But if it was true, why had no one ever told her? Why hadn't Mother Dorissa prepared her? Why had her father abandoned her? Where was her mother? Her sisters? For the first time, it occurred to her that she must have six other siblings if she and Selene were the seventh and eighth born. Perhaps she had brothers as well, aunts, uncles, cousins.



She closed her eyes against the growing pain in her head. So many questions. Surely someone, somewhere, had the answers.



But it no longer seemed to matter. Tomorrow was the seventh day of the seventh month.



The day of the wedding.



A knock at the door drew her from the balcony. She'd expected it to be Hadj bringing water for her bath. Instead, she saw Selene standing in the hallway.



"May I come in?" Selene asked.



Kylene nodded. Since Selene's arrival, they had been together only at mealtimes, never alone. There was no bond between them. Selene had not sought out Kylene's company, nor had Kylene sought hers.



Closing the door, Kylene led the way into the small blue and white sitting room.



"Sit down, won't you?" she invited, indicating the soft leather chair beside the window.



Selene shook her head, her gaze sweeping the room. To her delight, she saw that it was not as large or as lavishly appointed as her own chambers.



"I'm not staying long. I merely came to tell you not to attend the wedding."



Kylene stared at her twin, surprised at the hurt that washed through her. She hadn't wanted to attend the ceremony, knowing it would be agony of the worst kind to stand watching while Hardane married another. She had, in fact, spent the last several nights trying to think of a plausible excuse to avoid the celebration altogether, but being told not to attend, and by her own flesh and blood, hurt just the same.



"As you wish," Kylene agreed.



Selene nodded and turned to leave.



"Wait."



Selene glanced over her shoulder, a look of annoyance on her face. "What is it?"



"Where is my mother? My sisters?"



"Our three oldest sisters married knights from other empires long ago. The others died of a fever."



"And our mother?"



"She's dead. She died of the same fever that took our sisters."



Kylene stared at Selene, repulsed by the coldness in her sister's tone. Did the woman feel nothing over the loss of her parents, her siblings? Was there no love in her heart?



"Is that all?" Selene asked impatiently.



Kylene nodded. Her parents and three of her siblings were dead, but she wasn't alone in the world. She had three other sisters. The thought comforted her as she watched Selene leave the room. Surely they weren't all as cold and uncaring as her twin.



Sitting on the edge of the bed, she let her mind wander, imagining what it would be like to meet her sisters and their husbands. Their children, if they had any. She thought how nice it would be to spend the high holidays with family, to learn about her parents, her own childhood, of which she had no recollection.



A sound in the hallway drew her attention to the present. Rising, she went to the door of her chamber.



"Is someone there?" She listened a moment and then, quite clearly, she saw Hardane's image in her mind.



Her heart seemed to turn over in her breast as she put out her hand and opened the door.



"Kylene . . ."



"I knew it was you," she said even as she let her eyes look their fill. He wore a loose-fitting shirt that matched the gray of his eyes, black breeches, and knee-high boots. And he was handsome, so breathtakingly handsome.



"You've been missing me," she said, startling them both. "You've come to ask me to go for a walk."



He looked down at her, his eyes bright with amusement. "Are you reading my mind, lady?"



"So it would seem."



"Will you walk with me?"



"You've always been able to read my mind," Kylene replied. "Surely you must know the answer."



He smiled down at her as he held out his hand.



Kylene smiled back as she placed her hand in his, and then she frowned, thinking that Selene wouldn't like his being there.



"Where's your betrothed?" she asked, unable to keep a note of bitterness from her voice.



His gaze moved over her face as his hand squeezed hers. "By my side, lady."



Kylene blinked back her tears, unable to speak for the joy those few words kindled in her heart.



Hand in hand, they left the keep and walked into the night. She knew without asking where they were going.



In the moonlight, the maze was even more magical, more beautiful. The topiary unicorn seemed to shimmer in the starlight, the leaves of the trees whispered secrets to the soft south wind, the tall grass swayed to the music of the night.



And when Hardane held out his arms, Kylene went to him without hesitation.



For a long while, he only held her close, his face buried in the wealth of her hair. She fit in his embrace as if a beneficent God had designed her with him in mind. A deep breath filled his nostrils with her scent, stirring his desire as no other woman ever had. He let his essence surround her, felt their spirits blend into a single entity as her thoughts met his.



No words were said. None were necessary.



Tomorrow was the seventh day of the seventh month.



Tomorrow, he would know if Kylene was truly destined to be his life-mate.



Tomorrow, she would discover the truth of who she really was.



But tonight . . .



He stroked her hair, his fingertips lightly caressing her cheek as he murmured her name, only her name, over and over again. When he kissed her, it was more than a mere touching of his lips to hers, but the promise of a lifetime.



There was no need to read his thoughts now. She knew that, right or wrong, he had pledged himself to her, and only her.



In the silence of her mind, she made the same vow.



Thinking to find serenity in the rightness of it, she was startled by a sudden inner vision of flames rising up all around her, enveloping her, of a black wolf, its hackles bristling, its fangs bared . . .



With a cry, she pulled free of Hardane's embrace, her only thought to run away from what she knew was a vision of the future.



"Kylene, wait!"



"No." She began to run as she heard him coming up behind her. "Stay away from me!"



"Kylene! It's not what you think!"



But she could not banish the terror of the flames from her mind. She could still feel the heat overpowering her, burning her hair and skin, stealing her breath away. And the wolf, snarling at her, could only be Hardane.



She screamed when she felt his hand close over her shoulder. He tried to draw her into his arms, but she pummeled his chest with her fists as he drew her close.



"Kylene, listen to me, please."



"No." She shook her head, his nearness striking fear in her heart. He was the wolf.



"It's not what you think," he said again, his voice quiet, soothing. "Trust me. Please, lady."



"I can't."



"The flames are part of the test. You'll come to no harm, I promise you."



"And the wolf? What of the wolf snarling at me? Was it you?"



"I'd never hurt you, Kylene. You must believe me."



She stared up at him, wanting to believe, afraid to believe.



"I know in my heart that you're the firstborn. The flames will prove it. You have only to trust me, to believe in yourself, in our love."



"No. No, I can't. Please, let me go. I'm afraid."



"Of me?"



She stared into his eyes. They were gray and calm, so familiar.



"Kylene?" Seeing the fear in her eyes, reading it in her mind, he was tempted to tell her everything, and yet he couldn't tell her the whole truth. Not yet.



Feeling like the worst kind of coward, he drew her into his arms and held her close.



"Please," she whimpered, "please let me go."



"I can't."



"I'm afraid," she said, shivering uncontrollably. "So afraid."



"I know," he replied, his voice husky with concern, "but you have nothing to fear. The flames will prove who you are. It's a challenge you must face of your own free will."



She relaxed in the strength of his arms, feeling his courage bolster her own. "How? When?"



"Tomorrow night, at the Temple of Fire."



Kylene shuddered. "The Temple of Fire?"



"It's where all the heirs of Argone are life-mated. Be there, Kylene. Don't let a promise made to your sister keep you away."



Tenderly, he cupped her face in his hands and gazed deep into her eyes. "Don't let your fears keep us apart."