Beneath a Midnight Moon

"Come," Hardane said, taking Kylene by the hand.



"Where are we going?" She gazed up at him in surprise. She had thought there might be a celebration of some kind to honor their marriage.



Hardane smiled at his bride. She had never looked more beautiful. The gown of shimmering green velvet made her golden skin glow and deepened the red of her hair. Her eyes were sparkling with love and excitement. And she was his, for now and for always, this wondrous creature who had stolen his heart and his soul.



"Hardane?" She was gazing up at him, waiting for his answer.



"Tomorrow," he said. "Tomorrow night there will be feasting and dancing and tournaments," he explained as he led her out of the temple, "but tonight is ours alone. We will celebrate in our own way, just the two of us."



His words, softly spoken, brought a quick flush to Kylene's cheeks as she realized that what she had only dreamed of was about to become reality.



She felt as if every eye were watching them as they left the temple.



Hand in hand, they walked down the hill toward the keep. Caught up in the magic of the night, in the glow of being Hardane's bride, Kylene imagined that the wind was whispering her name, wishing her luck in her new life. It even seemed as if the moonlight were following her, wishing her well.



She grew increasingly nervous as they neared the castle. She was Hardane's wife now, his to do with as he pleased, and though her every thought had been centered around him since the day they met, it occurred to her that she really knew very little about him.



"I won't hurt you, lady," he vowed.



His words were low and reassuring; only the faint tremor in his voice betrayed his inner anxiety. With some relief, she remembered that he was as inexperienced as she.



Hardane slid a glance in Kylene's direction, wondering if she was as aware of his uncertainty as he was of hers.



They were still holding hands when they entered the keep and climbed the long, winding staircase that led to the sleeping quarters.



Hardane paused at the top of the steps and then, swinging Kylene into his arms, carried her down the hall to his bedchamber and opened the door.



Stepping into the room, he held her for a long moment, unable to believe that she was there, in his room, in his arms at last. His, to do with as he pleased. His, for now, for always.



He was glad now that he had never broken the vow he'd made to his mother, glad that he was as chaste as his bride. And yet, perversely, he wished he had some experience with women beyond what he had imagined.



Slowly he lowered Kylene to her feet, acutely conscious of every inch of her warm feminine form as her body slid across his.



Flustered by his nearness, Kylene took a step backward, and let out a little gasp of delight. The glow from a dozen candles filled the room with a soft yellow light. An engraved silver flagon of red wine and two delicate glasses stood on a silver tray next to the bed. And the bed . . . Kylene pressed her hand to her breast. The blue counterpane was covered with hundreds of snowy white rose petals. Their fragrance wrapped around her; their presence, and Hardane's thoughtfulness, made her heart ache with tenderness.



"When did you do all this?" she asked, touched beyond words by the romantic gesture.



"I asked Hadj to do it while we were gone."



"But . . . how did you know I'd be at the temple, that I'd brave the flames?"



"I didn't know. I only hoped."



Uncertain of what she expected of him, he was almost afraid to touch her, to surrender to the desire that was raging through him for fear he might hurt or frighten her. But even more compelling than his desire was the knowledge that he had not been entirely truthful with her.



"Kylene, there's something I need to tell you." He gazed down at her, into eyes as soft and brown as the earth, eyes filled with fire and mystery.



"Tell me, then," she replied quietly.



Hardane cringed inwardly, shaken to the core by the trust shining in her eyes. Would she still love him when she knew the truth?



Slowly, he shook his head. "Lady, I . . ."



Lifting her hand, Kylene caressed the rugged outline of his jaw.



"I'm not afraid," she whispered, praying that she would be forgiven for such a small lie. For she was afraid; afraid of the unknown, afraid she would say or do the wrong thing.



Hardane raised one black brow as he took her trembling hand in his. "Not afraid?" he chided gently.



"Perhaps a little," she admitted.



"Of me?" His voice was hoarse; his eyes were vulnerable.



"No, my wolf. Only afraid my ignorance will displease you."



A low growl of denial rose in Hardane's throat as he drew her hard against him and covered her mouth with his.



He had never had a woman except in dreams.



She had never had a man, and yet there was no awkwardness between them.



Gently, he began to undress her, his hands trembling with anticipation as he cast away layer after layer of clothing until she stood before him, more beautiful, more desirable, than he had ever imagined. His fingertips slid over her silken flesh, curious and reverent as he marveled at the unblemished beauty of her skin, the fullness of her breasts, her slender waist and long, shapely legs.



Humbled by her beauty and by the acceptance in her eyes, he made a silent vow that he would never do anything to cause her pain, knowing he would rather die than cause her a moment's distress. Even now, he could hardly believe that she was here, that she was his. None of his dreams had prepared him for the reality of this moment.



Kylene gazed up at him. "One of us is overly dressed, don't you think?" she whispered, surprised by her boldness.



"Aye, lady," Hardane agreed, and sucked in a deep breath as Kylene began to undress him, his whole body aching with need as she removed his shirt.



Kylene felt herself blush as she slid his shirt from his shoulders, reveling in the way he trembled beneath her touch, in the knowledge that he was hers, that from this moment on she could touch him, hold him, kiss him as she had so often yearned to do.



Her fingertips lingered over the width of his shoulders, traced meaningless patterns in the swirls of black hair on his chest. Kneeling, she removed his boots, and then, taking a deep breath, she stood up and began to unfasten his breeches.



At the touch of her hands, he went suddenly still, and she felt a wondrous sense of feminine power and excitement, and then a little stab of apprehension as he stood gloriously naked before her.



Murmuring her name, Hardane swept Kylene into his arms and carried her to the big feather bed. No longer would he sleep alone, tormented by his desire for this woman above all others, plagued by shadowed images that woke him in the night.



He lowered her carefully to the bed, his body covering hers. She was warmth and comfort, the answer to every prayer, every dream he'd ever had. He kissed her and the spark in his loins burst into flame. And now, for the first time, he could let it burn without fear.



Kylene drew Hardane close, closer, delighting in the weight of his body, in the soft sighs of pleasure that escaped his lips as her hands stroked his back and shoulders. He was every desire she'd ever had, every wish come true.



She had been afraid that her untutored hands wouldn't know how to pleasure him, but she knew now that her fears had been groundless. She seemed to know instinctively how to please him and her heart swelled with love and joy as he murmured her name over and over again.



She gasped as his body became part of hers. Instantly, Hardane withdrew.



"Have I hurt you?" he asked anxiously.



"A little, but . . . but I think it's to be expected."



Hardane drew a deep breath, remembering that Jared had once told him that, should he ever be fortunate enough to bed a maiden, the woman would experience a moment of pain, that there would be blood.



Propped on his elbows, Hardane gazed into her eyes, needing her with an intensity that went beyond words.



"Lady," he whispered, "what shall I do?"



"Whatever you wish, my lord wolf." And then, knowing he was afraid of causing her pain, she drew him into her arms and kissed him.



The touch of her lips, the restless touch of her hands on his back, drove him over the edge. He kissed her hard as he plunged into her, knowing that nothing short of death could keep him from making her his.



Kylene moaned low in her throat as they became one, and then the brief discomfort was forgotten and she felt not only her own pleasure, but his as well.



For an instant, the image of the wolf flashed in her mind. The hair beneath her hand felt like fur, and she seemed to feel his tongue stroking her palm, whining softly as he brushed against her legs. Incredibly, there was an instant when she felt as though she were the wolf.



And then she was soaring, all her senses keenly alive, lost in the wonder of Hardane's touch and her own unbridled response. Higher, higher, she raced past the moon and the stars until she caught the rainbow and it shattered in her grasp, filling her whole being with all the colors and textures of life renewing itself.



Hardane let out a long, shuddering sigh. And then he smiled. Nothing Jared had ever told him, nothing he had ever imagined, had prepared him for the reality of what had just happened. Not only had his body merged with Kylene's, but his heart and his mind as well. There had been a moment, one breathless moment, when all he was, all his hopes and dreams for the future, had merged with hers, a single glorious moment when her essence had been interwoven with his.



Rolling onto his side, he drew Kylene into his arms and rained kisses on her eyelids, her nose, her mouth. He smiled at the husky sigh of satisfaction that whispered past her lips.



"You're very quiet, lady," he remarked, one finger toying with a lock of her hair.



"I know, but . . ." She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "I don't want to spoil this moment."



"I didn't displease you, then?"



"Oh, no," Kylene answered quickly, fervently. She smiled up at him, her green eyes filled with mischief. "Of course, I have no other lovers to compare you with."



A low growl rumbled in Hardane's throat as he rolled her onto her back, his body pinning hers to the mattress.



"And you never will," he declared fiercely. "I'll flay the hide from any man who dares to touch you."



Kylene stared up into her husband's face, startled by his implacable tone. What she had said in jest had not been taken that way. His gray eyes were dark with fury. And jealousy.



"Hardane . . ." She smiled at him, hoping to erase the anger from his gaze. "I was only jesting. I want no one but you."



"I know," he replied, somewhat embarrassed by his outburst. "But the thought of you with another man is more than I can bear." His hand caressed her cheek with infinite tenderness. "There were times in the last few weeks when I wanted to kill my own brothers. Especially Dubrey. Watching them court you, watching you smile at them, dance with them . . ." Hardane shook his head ruefully. "I could have cheerfully killed them all."



"They were only teasing you."



"I know, but it didn't make any difference." Hardane rolled onto his side and drew her into the circle of his arms. "But they were with you."



"And you were with Selene." Kylene sat up, frowning. "Where do you suppose she went?"



Hardane shrugged. "I'm sure she's in the castle somewhere. She has nowhere else to go."



"I know, but-"



"No more talk of Selene for now," Hardane admonished.



"One question?"



"Ask it."



"What would have happened if Selene had answered my challenge and braved the flames?"



"She would have been destroyed."



"I wasn't."



"She's not you, lady."



"But . . ."



Hardane drew Kylene down beside him once more. "I don't want to think about Selene," he murmured. "I don't want to talk about Selene. I want you, lady, only you, in my thoughts, in my heart, in my arms."



"Hardane . . ."



"Aye, lady?"



She twined her arms around his neck. "Read my thoughts, Wolf of Argone," she whispered, and molded her body to his just in case he had trouble reading her mind.



Kylene sat up, uncertain as to what had awakened her. A glance at the window told her it was still dark outside. Frowning, she reached out to Hardane's side of the bed and found it empty.



Murmuring his name, she slipped out of the huge four-poster bed, drew on her night robe, and padded barefoot to the window. Drawing the heavy midnight blue velvet drapery aside, she gazed into the courtyard below.



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.