Beneath a Midnight Moon - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,41
drawn and quartered for the misery he had caused her. The swine. He’d had a castle that was as big as Castle Mouldour, servants to do his every bidding, enough wealth to last two lifetimes. He’d been Carrick’s chief advisor, heir to the throne, Master of the Treasury. He’d had everything a man could want, except the throne and the power that went with it.
Power. She knew how her uncle felt; she could understand why he had done what he’d done. Almost, she could forgive him for what he’d done. Almost.
Day passed into night and she stayed at her father’s side, watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was dying, of that she had no doubt. A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. Soon she would be free, free to pursue the destiny intended for Carrick’s seventh daughter.
She wondered absently what Hardane of Argone looked like, if he was kind or cruel, if the blood of the Wolffan truly flowed in his veins. But none of that mattered. She wanted to share his throne. To bear his children. To know, at last, the security that came from belonging to a man who possessed power and strength and knew how to use both wisely.
She stared down at her father, her expression cold. He had always been a kind man, a fair-minded man, but he had been weak and foolish and it had cost him the throne of Mouldour.
Rising, she cast a last glance at the man who had sired her. There was nothing she could do for him now. It was time to look forward, time to go to Castle Argone and claim the prize that she had coveted for as long as she could remember.
Chapter 20
Sometime during the night, Kylene awoke, shivering violently, her mind filled with vague images, indistinct images of a man and a woman that seemed oddly familiar though she was certain she’d never seen either of them.
She stared wildly around the room, the covers clutched to her breasts, her heart pounding with an impending sense of doom.
With a hand that trembled, she lit the taper beside her narrow bed, but even the flickering light of the candle failed to dispel the thick darkness that hovered around her.
She whimpered Hardane’s name, wishing he was there beside her. The thought had barely crossed her mind when the chamber door burst open and she saw him silhouetted in the dimly lit corridor, his sword clutched in his hand. He was naked save for a bit of cloth that covered his loins.
“What is it?” he asked harshly.
Kylene shook her head. “I . . . I don’t know.” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Nothing, I guess.”
Frowning, Hardane stepped into the room. And then he felt it, an aura of darkness, of evil.
Crossing the floor, he put his arms around Kylene and held her close.
“You feel it, too, don’t you?” Kylene asked, her voice filled with wonder and fear.
“Aye, lady, I feel it.” His arms tightened around her as the evil in the room swirled around them, growing stronger, more oppressive.
Kylene buried her face in the hollow of Hardane’s shoulder, certain that only he could protect her from the unseen menace that seemed to lurk in the shadows, ready to envelop her. His skin was cool against her cheek, his arms solid and reassuring as he held her close.
Abruptly, he swept her into his arms and carried her out of the room into the hallway.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To my chambers.”
She stared at him in horror. “No. Please, I . . . what will your mother think? Oh, please, Hardane, don’t do this.”
But it was like trying to reason with a mountain. He carried her as if she weighed no more than a thistle, his long legs carrying them down the long corridor to his room.
Inside, he closed and bolted the door. Tossing his sword aside, he lowered her to his bed.
Kylene stared up at him, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The evil that had engulfed her only moments ago was completely forgotten as she found herself alone in Hardane’s room, sitting on the edge of his bed.
Her gaze skittered across the width of his broad shoulders, the vast expanse of bare male chest, a bronzed belly ridged with muscle. Her gaze darted quickly back to his face as a new fear took hold of her, one more frightening, one infinitely more dangerous, than the darkness that had hovered in her room.