Crystal Moon (18 page)

squinted up at Kyne. “Blast. I knew I’d end up consigned to

Oblivion, but I didn’t think the Unredeemed would be so damned

ugly.”

A chuckle started deep in Kyne’s chest and grew to a shout

of laughter. Despair slipped from his shoulders like a heavy

cloak on a warm day.

“Cease cackling like a mad rooster and get me a drink. My

throat is drier than a landbound water worm.”

Kyne’s laughter slowed as the forced quality of Graham’s

humor registered. He leaned over and helped Graham sit up.

After gulping two cups of water, Graham slid back against

the wall and sighed. “Better.” He looked at Althea. “Good healer,

would you see to obtaining me some food? My legs were broken,

not my innards. I’m hungry,” he complained.

A grin broke over the old healer’s wrinkled face as she

nodded and hurried to do Graham’s bidding.

“Are you in any pain?” Kyne asked.

“Of course I’m in pain, you moon-cursed fool,” Graham

growled, shifted his hips and grimaced.

“Would you have a draft to kill the pain?” Kyne reached

for the flask of nika root infusion Sianna had left. At the moment,

nika seemed a lesser evil than Graham’s suffering. Somehow

Kyne knew Graham’s pain did not reside in his limbs.

Graham stayed his hand. “Pain and I are old friends. I will

deal with it. What I have need of is....” Color touched his cheeks

as he directed his glance toward the pot hidden beneath the

bed.

“Graham?”

Two male heads swiveled to the doorway where Katya

stood poised to enter. Dressed in sadly rumpled clothing, her

blonde hair tangled around her tear-stained face, she looked

more child than woman, but the love and hope shining in her

eyes as they settled on Graham told Kyne she was no little girl.

Graham’s injury had forced her beyond the boundary that

separates girl from woman. Perhaps now she was worthy of

the love he knew Graham felt for her.

Humor drained from Graham’s face, and he stiffened.

“Graham?” Kyne’s usually brash young sister took a

tentative step into the chamber and looked to Graham for

welcome and reassurance.

“I wish no visitors.” Closing his eyes, Graham slid down on

the bed and effectively shut himself away from Katya.

Her face crumpled. Tears sprang to her eyes as she turned

and dashed away.

“What did you do that for?” Kyne demanded. He wanted

to shake Graham. Not only for hurting Katya, but for the hurt

he did to himself. “Your love for Katya is a well-known secret.

Why reject her now?” he insisted when Graham remained silent.

“I heard the old healer’s words. I may never walk.”

Graham’s accusing glare met Kyne’s. “You’ve forced life on

me, but I’ll not force my broken body on Katya. She deserves

a whole man.”

“Bloody moons!” What could he say? In the same situation

what would he do? Kyne had no answer for Graham.

Had Sianna saved Graham’s life, yet left his ka to perish?

***

Awareness returned to Sianna slowly. She stretched and

groaned as her body protested the movement, but the pain was

not truly physical. Instead her ka, the center of her being, felt

bruised and battered. Why did she ache so?

Graham!

She bolted upright. Warda gave a yelp as her sudden

movement dislodged him from her side. He slid to the floor and

gave her a baffled look when she ignored him.

How long had she slept? Last she remembered, the shadows

had been long. Now sunlight streamed into the chamber. Had

she slept through the night and into the next day? After a healing

she often needed as much as a day and night’s sleep to recover,

but at the valetudinarian the Sisters would watch over her patient

while she slept. Who watched over Graham?

Disregarding the weakness of her limbs and the wave of

dizziness that washed over her, she grabbed and pulled on the

clean tunic she found draped over a chair. Barefoot, she hurried

toward the door. Her feet refused to follow her orders, and she

stumbled.

Graham needed her. Had he died while she slept? Panic

and urgency filled her. She closed her eyes and reached out for

him. He was there, his consciousness veiled by slumber, but

strong and sure. A sigh of relief staggered her, and she sank to

her knees. Head bowed she waited for her strength to build so

she could go to his side.

She’d given Graham all that she could. Was it enough?

Memory of melding her energy with Kyne’s burst over

her. How had she forgotten? When her hands clasped his

against Graham’s body, she’d been jolted by the power that

flowed out of Kyne, into and through her. Though he appeared

unaware of his ability, Kyne, like herself, could heal with his

touch. Without conscious thought she had channeled their

combined healing force into Graham. Holding Kyne’s unfocused

power along with her own fading strength had nearly burned

her out.

Between them they had performed what she alone could

not have done—restored the possibility of mobility to Graham’s

shattered legs. Whether or not Graham would walk again now

depended on his own efforts.

Somehow she and Kyne were connected. But how?

“Two bloody moons! What are you doing, woman?” The

curse snapped her head up and drove out her questions. Kyne

stood framed in the open doorway.

Had she breathed too deep of the nika fumes and imagined

everything? Where was the gentle man who had caught her as

she fell and tucked her into bed? The healer who added his

strength to hers to save a friend? A hostile warrior stood in his

stead. She met his glower with more courage than she felt.

“Going to see to my patient.”

“On your knees?” Three strides brought him to her side.

His caustic tone and angry eyes made her cringe as he

reached for her. She hadn’t the energy to cope with Kyne now.

Graham’s healing required her entire concentration.

“If needs be, but now that you’re here you may assist me.”

She lifted her hand and placed it on his forearm.

“When quinar fly!”

She gasped and clung to him as he swung her into his arms

and deposited her on the bed. For a moment she lay stunned,

then ignoring the pounding in her head, she scrambled to her

knees and faced him. “I must see to Graham’s care.”

Legs spread in a stance of command, hands fisted on his

lean hips, he stared down at her. “Althea sits with him while he

sleeps. He has no need of you right now. Time and nature must

take its course. It will not speed his recovery for you to wear

yourself to exhaustion at his side.” His voice softened slightly.

A warm glow began inside Sianna. Did he have a care for

her? His next words shattered that frail hope.

“And if you carry Aubin’s babe? Would you sacrifice its

health with your foolishness?”

Aubin’s babe? “Have I no value beyond brood mare to

your brother’s child?” she whispered the question without

thinking.

“What would you have me say? You are a hostage, a pawn

to bring down your father. What more would you be?” Cold

and clipped, his words froze in the air between them.

What would he do if she told him there was no babe? That

she was not whom he believed her to be? That her father would

likely not respond to their demands for her return? That he

would abandon her to her fate and save himself? Would her life

be forfeit? She searched Kyne’s impassive face for a clue to

the emotions he hid so well.

Why couldn’t she see into his heart as she saw into the

hearts of others? What force blocked her empathic talent, yet

let them link to heal? And what of those times when she touched

his emotions and knew he felt hers as well, if only briefly?

Something other than blood prevented her from reading him,

for when they did join, the bond was stronger than any she’d

ever known. A communion, a merging of their kas.

He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her up so her eyes

were level with his. “Why did you dally with Aubin?”

At his touch, emotions jolted through her—Kyne’s jumbled

emotions. Did he feel hers as well?

“I...” She shook with reaction to the searing agony housed

in his ka.

“Wasn’t a marriage to Prince Timon and the power of the

throne enough for you? Did you have to break Aubin’s heart

then throw him to your father’s mercy?”

“You don’t understand.” She struggled to block the

maelstrom of dangerous debris whirling within Kyne—hatred,

anger, desire, guilt. Only his strong will kept the deadly emotions

from breaking free to wreck havoc and destroy him, but weak

as she was, Sianna couldn’t shield herself. “La...I loved Aubin.”

The pain of his fingers biting into her arms couldn’t compare

to the torment his pain caused her. Like a hungry water worm

he fed his passions with her life force and left her drained.

“Love? You used Aubin for your own selfish ends, then

cast him aside. You and your father are takers. What could you

know of love?”

Tell him the truth. Tell him who you really are, a small,

traitorous voice inside her whispered, and he’ll turn his hatred

elsewhere. And Laila? What will become of her?

Defeated by loyalty, Sianna pressed her lips together to

keep from revealing the truth.

Kyne clutched Sianna’s arms with uncalled for force, but

couldn’t loosen his hold. With his grip he fought the urge to

bend his head to hers and take her moist lips. He used harsh

words to drive out the need to push her back on the bed and

bury himself in her soft, womanly body, to ease with her heat

the chill of loneliness in his heart.

His efforts failed to quench his desire. Rage made him

rash. Why deny himself?

What difference would his possession of her make? The

babe growing in her belly proved her no innocent, that she had

lain with a man.

Even though the man had been his own brother, the thought

enraged Kyne. Sianna belonged to him. He would not share

her, even with a dead man. He wanted her hot and wet and

willing. He wanted to brand her with his taste, his touch, his

smell, until she forgot she’d ever lain with another man.

Until she forgot Aubin. His brother.

“Aubin.” He groaned his brother’s name.

Kyne felt Sianna’s twinge of pain as his fingers tightened

on her arms. Guilt doused passion.

“Let him go,” she whispered. “You need peace, and he

needs to move on.”

“I can’t. He’s part of me. The better part, I fear.”

Her slim hand spread over his chest. “You’ll always carry

Aubin in your heart.”

“Aubin was my heart. His goodness. His gentleness. His

quiet strength bonded my family, our people, together.” Kyne

laughed harshly. “I wonder if, when your father killed Aubin, he

knew he struck a mortal blow? Without Aubin we have no

heart. We’re lost, floundering. Though we fight on, to what

purpose?”

No longer could Kyne believe Sianna had any part in Aubin’s

death. The woman he’d come to know was caring and gentle.

She forgave without hesitation any who hurt her and gave

unstintingly even to those who named themselves her enemies.

She was as much a victim of her father as Aubin. With this

conclusion, Kyne found a measure of serenity in his desire for

her. Still, she was DiSanti’s daughter and had been Aubin’s

lover. Had she loved him? She avowed so. The thought caused

an ache deep in the heart he claimed he no longer possessed.

“You’re wrong. Aubin is still with you. Here.” She touched

his chest. “And here.” She touched his forehead. “You fight on

because it’s right to do so. My fath....” she faltered then

continued, “DiSanti is an evil man. He must be stopped.”

At her condemnation of her father and the feather light

brush of her fingers across his chest and brow, Kyne’s desire

surged anew. Purged of anger and guilt, his passion built.

Whatever their past, whatever their future, for this moment

Sianna belonged to him.

Her hands framed his face, and she pulled him down to

meet her kiss.

“I’m not Aubin,” he groaned against her lips, giving her one

last chance to stop him.

“I know.”

Her low moan reached past his anger. He loosened his grip

and closed his eyes against the accusation he would see in her

eyes, but unwilling to release her, retained his hold. Struggling

to regain control, he opened his eyes. Except for the rapid beat

of her pulse at her throat which betrayed her agitation, she met

his gaze boldly.

Taking a deep breath, he opened himself and sensed her

presence within him. Emotions not his own tugged at him—

longing, forgiveness, hidden guilt. No longer could he deny the

connection between them, the feeling that some unknown force

bonded them together.

He lowered her to the bed. Warda growled and bared his

teeth. At Kyne’s sharp reproach, the hound whined and slunk

away.

Honor demanded he punish her for her part in Aubin’s death.