Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,29

time later, they reached the heart of the maze. “Oh,” Kylene exclaimed. “It’s beautiful.”

And yet beautiful didn’t begin to describe it. A crystal geyser bubbled from an underground spring. Huge lacy ferns and wondrous flowers grew in profuse abundance. A small stone bench was shaded by the leafy umbrella of an ancient willow tree. A golden shrub grew beside the spring. Cut in the shape of a unicorn, it seemed vibrant and alive.

It was like being in a different world, a magical world where dreams could come true, where the innermost desires of one’s heart might be granted.

Slowly, she turned around, not wanting to miss the smallest detail, until she came face-to-face with Hardane.

For a timeless moment, they gazed at each other.

And then, wordlessly, helplessly, he held out his arms.

And she, willingly, eagerly, stepped into his embrace, lifting her face for his kiss.

He lowered his head, blocking the sun, the sky, until there was nothing in all the world but the man bending over her. With infinite tenderness, his lips claimed hers. Feather-light, no more than the merest whisper of his mouth on hers, yet the heat of his touch engulfed her like a living flame, consuming every thought, every emotion.

Unaccountably, the image of a black-haired, gray-eyed wolf padded quietly down the corridors of her mind, and she felt the palm of her hand tingle, felt a rush of pleasure that was as warm and sweet as the finest Mouldourian wine.

Too soon, he took his mouth from hers, and yet, in that one brief instant, Kylene knew her whole world had been changed forever.

With a sigh, Hardane let her go.

With a sigh, Kylene took a step backward.

And yet his arms still felt the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin.

Her lips still tingled with his touch, his taste.

For the first time, he wondered if it might be possible to break his betrothal if Kylene proved to be a commoner, as she claimed.

For the first time, she wondered if she had truly been called to the Sisterhood.

Because he had to touch her again, Hardane reached for her hand, his fingers curling lightly around hers.

“We should go back,” he said reluctantly.

“Yes.”

His gaze moved over her face, resting briefly on her lips. “Kylene . . .”

She smiled up at him, knowing that everything she was feeling was reflected in her eyes. “My lord?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “Nothing, lady. I wanted only to say your name.”

His words pleased her beyond measure, making her heart swell with an emotion she had never before known.

A pleasant warmth filled her as they left the maze, walking in companionable silence back to the castle. She very carefully stored the memory of his kiss, the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes, into a corner of her mind. No matter what the future held, no matter if she spent the rest of her life in a tiny cell within the confines of the Motherhouse, she would always have the memory of this day to keep her warm.

Chapter 16

Sharilyn stared at her son in alarm. “You cannot love her, Hardane. It’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid it’s very possible, mother mine.”

“But the prophesy . . . it must be fulfilled. Only your sons can bring an end to the constant warring between Argone and Mouldour. Would you let hundreds, perhaps thousands, of others suffer simply to satisfy your lust?”

She held up her hand to silence the protest that sprang to his lips. “Yes, lust, that’s all it is.”

“No!”

“Hardane, you’re a man, a warrior. Perhaps it was wrong of me to invoke your promise to remain celibate until you wed Carrick’s daughter. But I wanted only the best for you, and for Selene. No matter what others say, a man who can control his appetites is a man to be reckoned with.”

“Jared—”

“Jared is not the heir to the throne of Argone. It matters not if he spills his seed like water upon the ground.”

“I hear you, mother mine,” Hardane said, his voice heavy. “I hear you.”

Rising, he began to pace the floor, his long strides carrying him effortlessly across the room as he sought to sort through his thoughts, looking for a way to make his mother understand what he felt. Always, they had shared a close bond. In days past, they had assumed the shape of the wolf, cavorting in the moonlight as they listened to the ancient songs that only they could hear.

He had to make her understand. He drew up before her and took one of

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