Beneath a Midnight Moon

It was late the next night when Hardane returned to the keep. Kylene was in their bedchamber, sitting in the window seat, her gaze focused on a distant star, when she felt his presence in the room.



Slowly, she turned around to face him. In a distant corner of her mind, she wondered how long he'd been back. Long enough to bathe and change his clothes, she thought as her gaze moved over him. He was a study in black, from the top of his head to the snug black breeches riding low on his narrow hips. His eyes were shadowed, and a day's growth of beard covered the lower half of his face.



Kylene stared at the thick black bristles on his jaw, at the long black hair that fell past his shoulders. Gradually, her gaze lowered to the mat of ebony-colored hair that covered his broad chest.



Wolf.



Hardane's jaw clenched under her scrutiny.



"Aye, lady," he said roughly, "a wolf stands before you in the guise of a man. Think you I'll tear out your heart?"



"You have torn it, my lord wolf," she retorted, unable to hide the resentment she felt. "Torn it until it bleeds with sorrow and remorse."



Hardane took a deep, steadying breath. She had a right to be angry. He should have told her the truth before the wedding. He should have warned her, prepared her.



"I never meant to hurt you, or deceive you," he said quietly, and wondered if she'd ever forgive him.



She looked skeptical. "Didn't you?"



"I should have told you everything," he admitted, his voice laced with regret.



"Yes."



A hurt deeper than pain lanced his heart as he tried to prepare himself to live without her, though how he'd face the future without her was beyond all comprehension, so quickly had she taken root in his heart, his very soul.



His gaze moved over her, committing to memory the fire that danced in her deep red hair, the dark brown of her eyes. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, her cheeks as pink as rose petals, her lips as red as a pomegranate seed. Kylene . . .



His hands curled into tight fists as he summoned the courage to ask the one question he dreaded.



"Will you leave me, now that you know the truth?"



Will you leave me, now that you know the truth? She heard the pain in his voice and knew that her leaving would cut him deeply. And knew, just as certainly, that she'd rather die than live without him. Wolf or man, she loved him utterly, completely. To live without him would be no life at all.



"Kylene?" He stared into her eyes, his whole life hanging on her answer.



"I'll not leave you, unless it is your wish."



"You'll stay?" he asked in disbelief. "In spite of the curse of my bloodline?"



Running across the room, Kylene threw herself into his arms. "A blessing, my lord wolf, not a curse."



Hardane held her at arm's length, wanting to make sure she understood that the Wolffan, like their wild cousins, mated for life.



"Are you certain, lady?" he asked, his gaze holding hers. "Once my seed is growing within you, there can be no turning back. Once our sons are born, I will never let you go."



"Could you let me go now?"



Slowly, he shook his head. "No, lady, not even if it meant my life."



"Then love me, Hardane," she murmured. "I care not if you be wolf or man. Both or neither, only love me now."



"As you wish, lady," he replied, his voice husky with desire as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to their bed. "As you wish . . ."



And then, as gently as ever a man loved a woman, Hardane possessed her, and with every touch, with every caress, he reaffirmed his infinite love for her. And Kylene, listening with her heart, heard every unuttered vow as clearly as if he'd spoken his love aloud.



"I heard you in the night," Kylene remarked a long time later.



She was lying in his arms, her head on his shoulder, her fingers lightly tracing a path through the hair on his chest.



"Did you? And what did you think?"



"I realized how deeply I had hurt you, and that, in so doing, I had hurt myself as well."



Hardane wrapped a skein of her hair around his hand, admiring its softness as he brushed it against his cheek.



"I wasn't going to come back, lady. I couldn't face the thought of living here without you."



"But this is your home," Kylene exclaimed softly. "Where would you have gone?"



"There's a wolf pack that hunts in the forest. For a time, I thought of joining them, of spending the rest of my life as a wolf."



"You wouldn't."



A faint smile curved his lips. "I had decided I didn't want a life without you, but I knew I had to see you one more time."



Kylene sat up, her eyes wide as she stared down at him. "And if I had sent you from me, you would have gone to live with the wolves?"



"Aye, lady. What would my life be if I couldn't share it with you?"



"Oh, Hardane," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "You must know how much I love you."



"Sometimes love isn't enough."



Choking back a sob, Kylene snuggled against him once more, stunned to think he would have given up his home, the throne, the life he'd been born to live, all because of her.



She hugged him fiercely, determined to make him happy, to give him strong sons and beautiful daughters, to please him in every way a woman could please a man.



In the weeks that followed, they spent every moment together. Hardane showered her with gifts: jewels that reflected all the colors of the rainbow, lustrous silks and satins in fiery shades of red and blue and green. He took her to the stables and presented her with a horse of her own, a dainty, long-legged mare with a coat like black velvet and a mane and tail like ebony silk.



They took long rides together, sometimes traveling to nearby towns, sometimes spending the night near the waterfall.



On one such night, after they'd made love beneath a starlit sky, they walked hand in hand along the edge of the mountain. And there, silhouetted in the moonlight at the bottom of the falls, Kylene saw the Wolffan warrior who had ridden over the edge. And sitting on the boulder beside him, her wedding gown shimmering like liquid silver in the moonlight, was the woman who had chosen to join her beloved in death rather than face the future alone.



Kylene had stared up at Hardane, unable to believe her eyes. "Do you see them?" she had whispered.



"Aye, lady," Hardane had replied, squeezing her hand. "And they see us."



And when Kylene looked again, she saw the two lovers gazing up at them.



The woman waved, her delicate hand ghostly in the moonlight. And then the Wolffan warrior lifted his lady onto the back of his horse, swung up behind her, and rode off into the shadows beyond the falls.



Kylene had never known such happiness as she knew in those carefree days. It was as if she had been born anew the night Hardane returned to the castle, born into a world of light and laughter, a world of brilliant colors and sounds. Her regimented life in the Motherhouse seemed like a bad dream, a nightmare from which she'd been awakened by love's first kiss.



Like a princess in a fairy tale, she found herself married to a prince, waited upon by servants. She had only to ask for something and it appeared before her. A new gown. A glass of wine. A bowl of freshly picked snowberries. Every whim, every desire of her heart, was granted almost before she'd made it known.



But most wondrous of all was Hardane. He had become the center of her world, her life. She basked in his touch, felt her heart thrill anew each time she heard the deep timbre of his voice. His face was the first she saw in the morning, the last she saw at night. His kisses sent her off to sleep and woke her with the dawn.



She thought often of the sisters she'd never met. One day soon, she would ask Hardane to locate what was left of her family, perhaps invite them to Castle Argone, but not yet. She was too caught up in her newfound happiness to want to share it with anyone else. Soon, she would make time to meet her sisters and their families, but not now.



Occasionally, she wondered what had happened to Selene. No one in the castle had seen her sister since the wedding. The knowledge that her twin sister hated her, hated her enough to try to kill her, was hard to bear. Kylene tried to imagine how she would feel if the situation were reversed, but she knew, deep in her heart, that she would never have plotted against Selene.



But Hardane gave her little time to fret about her sister's treachery, and she gradually put it out of her mind.



These long golden days of sunshine and laughter, these glorious star-studded nights of ecstasy, belonged only to Hardane.