Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,39
throat as she stared at the hooded woman standing in the doorway.
A soft cry escaped Kylene’s lips as she approached the bed. Was she too late?
Sobbing his name, she knelt by the side of the bed and took Hardane’s hand in both of hers. It was cold, so cold. She grasped it tightly, willing her strength, her life-force, into him.
“Hardane! Hardane, come back to me.” She pressed her lips to his cheek. “Come back to me, my Lord Wolf,” she murmured brokenly. “Please come back to me.”
“Kylene . . . is that you?”
“Yes, oh yes.” She squeezed his hand as his eyelids fluttered open and she found herself gazing into the gray depths of his eyes, eyes filled with pain and wonder.
“You . . . came back?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you needed me. Because . . .” She squeezed his hand again, afraid to say too much, afraid her heart would make promises she couldn’t keep.
“You’ll stay?”
“Yes, for as long as you need me.”
He smiled weakly, his eyelids fluttering down once more. “Stay . . . stay . . .”
“I will.”
“Always?”
She bit down on her lip, knowing she couldn’t promise him always.
“As long as you need me,” she said again, but he was already asleep.
“Bless you, my dear,” Sharilyn said, placing her hand on Kylene’s shoulder. “He’s resting peacefully for the first time in days.”
Lord Kray came to stand beside his wife, his brow furrowed thoughtfully as he stared down at Kylene, who was still kneeling beside the bed. “Might I have the pleasure of an introduction?”
“This is Kylene,” Sharilyn answered. “She arrived here with Hardane some weeks ago.”
“Why wasn’t she here when we returned from Klannaad?”
“She was at the Bourne Sisterhouse, Kray.”
“At Bourne? Why?”
“It’s her vocation.”
“Her vocation?” Lord Kray exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s taken the vows of the Sisterhood.”
Lord Kray shook his head, completely bewildered.
“Hardane rescued her from the bowels of the Citadel,” Sharilyn explained. “He thought she was Carrick’s seventh daughter.”
Lord Kray frowned. “Isn’t she?”
“No.”
“Are you blind? She looks just like Carrick.”
“Does she?” Sharilyn stared at Kylene. “I’ve never seen him.”
“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten,” Lord Kray murmured absently. “Well, I’ve seen him. This girl has his eyes, his coloring.”
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Kylene interjected shyly, “but I’m not related to Lord Carrick. I’m a foundling.”
“Go on.”
“I was given into the care of the Sisterhood when I was very young. I have no memory of any other life.”
“How did my son happen to rescue you?”
“I’m not sure. I . . . I saw him in my dreams and then, shortly after I was captured by the Interrogator, Lord Hardane rescued me and brought me here. He thought I was his betrothed, but as I’ve told you, that’s quite impossible.”
“You saw my son in your dreams?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You know, of course, that such a thing is impossible unless you’re destined to be life-mated?”
“So I’ve been told.”
Lord Kray shook his head. Deny it though she might, Kylene was related to Carrick. The resemblance was far too strong to be happenstance.
He glanced down at his son, who was sleeping peacefully. “We will discuss this further in the morning,” he decided, taking his wife by the hand. “I suggest we all get some sleep until then.”
Kylene looked at Hardane’s hand resting in hers. “I’d like to stay here, if it’s all right.”
“Of course,” Sharilyn said. “Bless you, my dear.”
Alone, Kylene stared out the window, her mind replaying Lord Kray’s words. She looks just like Carrick . . . she has his eyes, his coloring . . . you saw my son in your dreams . . . such a thing is impossible unless you are destined to be life-mated. . .
Weary and confused, she rested her head on her arm and closed her eyes. Was it possible? Was she Carrick’s seventh daughter? But what of Selene? It was no secret that Selene was Carrick’s seventh daughter. She had gone into exile with her father, her whereabouts were unknown, but it was common knowledge that she had been betrothed to Lord Kray’s son since birth. They were to be married this year, in the seventh month.
“Kylene.”
His voice, though faint, made her pulse race with new life. She could feel him watching her and she opened her eyes slowly, wanting to savor the moment when her gaze met his again.
His eyes were clear, as fathomless, and beautiful, as always.
“I thought I had dreamed you,” Hardane murmured.
He slipped his hand from hers, then caught her hand in his and pressed his lips to her palm. His touch,