Midnight Whispers - Paranormal Romance (9 page)

Bryce stepped
up and, placing Kyra slightly behind him, knocked on the door. It opened only
seconds later to reveal a small, slender woman with dark, curly hair pulled
back from a pretty face. Her eyes, the same brilliant green as her brother’s,
smiled warmly at him, then turned curious as they settled on Kyra. She wore a
dress only a few shades lighter than her hair that was covered with an apron.

“Bryce.” Leah
wrapped her arms around him, and Kyra noticed that her sleeves had been rolled
up to the elbows—likely to avoid coating them in the flour that dusted
her hands. The exposed forearms were slender, but also muscular, and Kyra
imagined that Leah was probably a woman who could handle herself in an attack.
Bryce hugged her back gently, not seeming to care that his shoulders were being
dusted with flour. “It’s nice of you to stop by, and to bring your mate too.”

“I’m not his
mate,” Kyra blurted out before she could stop herself—she didn’t know
why, but it seemed important for her to make that clear. “Or, at least not yet.
I haven ‘t decided.”

Leah raised
her eyebrows as she stepped back. “So Bryce has told me. Why don’t the two of
you come inside? I have a loaf that’s going to burn, and another one that’s
ready to be baked.

Kyra followed
Bryce inside the two-room cabin—one spacious area that had the kitchen and
living area, and another room separated by the door she assumed was the
bedroom. Leah moved past the counter, where a mound of dough was set out, and
bent in front of the hearth to pull out the loaf. Her eyes were drawn to the
loom set in the middle of the living area, where a woolen blanket seemed to be
in the works. Her feet carried her over to it, and she allowed her fingers to
play over the colorful threads.

She looked up
to see Leah standing a few feet away, watching her. “It’s beautiful,” Kyra told
her.

Leah smiled
slightly. “Still in the works, I’m afraid, but it’ll be a work to be proud of
when I’m done with it. You’ve done weaving before?”

Kyra shook
her head. “I’ve only ever worked with a needle and thread—embroidery and
some mending.”

Leah clapped
her hands together in a prayerful gesture and looked up. “Praise the gods, a
woman that can use a needle and thread! You would be amazed at just how many
women in our village come to me for this kind of work. They’re plenty good at
other things—pottery, cooking, even carving—but the needle and
thread are elusive. This alone, in my opinion, should get them to forgive you
that you’re human.”

“Leah.” Bryce
coughed even as Kyra’s lips twitched. “I don’t…”

“… know if
that’s the wisest thing to say?” Leah finished, propping her hands on her hips.
“Maybe not, but you know I’ve always spoken what’s on my mind, and nothing is
going to change that. Would you like to learn how to use a loom?” she asked,
turning her attention back to Kyra as though her brother had said nothing.

The lip
twitching became a full-on smile. “I do believe I would like to.”

“Then let me
wash my hands.”

The two women
sat at the bench together, and Leah showed Kyra the basics—how the warp
was loaded and the yarn reefed and layered. Then she showed her which levers to
pull when and how to send the shuttle across, and soon Kyra’s fingers were
flying, the yarn seeming almost to weave itself as she guided the loom.

“She’s a
natural,” Leah said to Bryce with a grin.

Shaking his
head, Bryce couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad you think so, but we really
didn’t come so you could put Kyra to work.”

“Of course
not.” Leah patted Kyra gently on the shoulder. “Why don’t you and Bryce have a
seat, and I’ll bring out some tea.”

Kyra rose.
“It’s really no trouble at all. I think I would like to try using your loom
again sometime.”

“Be careful,”
Bryce said, laughing. “If you keep saying things like that Leah might decide
not to let you go.”

Leah brought
out tea and biscuits, and Kyra bit into one of the warm, sugary pastries,
sighing. It had been awhile since she’d had anything like this. “These are
wonderful.”

Leah smiled.
“Not what you expected is it?”

Kyra frowned.
“I’m not certain I know what you mean.”

Leah sat,
then picked up her own cup and sipped the steaming hot tea. “You were expecting
a crude lifestyle—tasteless food, sparse décor, harsh living conditions.”

“Leah,” Bryce
began, the word both a warning and a plea, but Kyra shook her head and held up
a hand.

“It’s
alright,” she said, keeping her eyes on his sister. “You are very perceptive,
and it unsettles me that you could see past my polite façade to my thoughts
within. To be honest, on an intellectual level I really had no idea what to
expect. I’d never once imagined how a hidden village would function, having
never had a reason to think about it before now. But in the back of my mind,
knowing that everyone in this village is part animal, and knowing that you keep
yourselves apart from outside civilization, I did wonder if perhaps you all
lead a barbaric lifestyle. Sitting here now in your cozy cabin, sipping tea
after admiring your weaving and cooking skills, I would have to say I am sorely
mistaken. And perhaps a little ashamed.”

Leah smiled
again, but this time it was a full, open one. “I really do hope you don’t
bungle this,” she said, turning to her brother, “because even if you haven’t
made up your mind, I have. I want to keep her.”

Kyra laughed.

****

The next day
Kyra arrived, the village seemed less hostile. When she stepped out of the maze
and walked to Bryce’s cabin, she still felt eyes on her, but the stares were no
longer openly hostile—or at least, not all of them. Most of the villagers
still looked upon her with mistrust, or at least caution, but none of them
looked as though they were ready to chase her out with a broom—or worse.
Kyra wasn’t certain what brought along the change, but she suspected it had
something to do with how well her visit had gone with Leah.

Bryce met her
halfway to his cabin, and Kyra’s heart sped up a bit as he took her hand and
kissed it. The afternoon sunlight shone through the trees and glanced off his
thick, brown hair, giving it a lustrous sheen, and his green eyes glowed
warmly. Several days growth of beard shadowed his jaw, giving him a rugged,
woodsman look. She found herself instinctively comparing it with Jake’s
sunbaked complexion and sizzling blue eyes, and shook her head. Was she
actually considering a choice between the two men?

“Is something
wrong?” he asked, lowering her hand and giving her a quizzical look.

“I was just
thinking that you are far too handsome for your own good,” Kyra said, and
smiled, knowing it was not a lie and he wouldn’t be able to contest it.

Sure enough,
Bryce grinned. “You’re just flattering me in the hopes of trying to distract
me,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her along into walking beside him.
“Not that I’m complaining. But it seems there is something on your mind.”

Kyra smiled
ruefully even as she cursed inside—it seemed that his perception of her
ran beyond physical signs; but then, so had his sister’s. “I’m just wondering
what it will take to get your village to be more at ease around me,” she said,
which was true enough.

Bryce
squeezed her hand gently, and Kyra found she liked having her hand in
his—it was warm and strong, and felt a good fit. “They’ll come around as
they get to know you better. You’ve already made a bit of progress during your
visit with Leah yesterday. She told some of the village women about you after
you’d left yesterday. Leah is respected, and the villagers trust her judgment.
You will just have to show them that she wasn’t in error with her words.”

Kyra nodded.
“I’m nervous. Your people have every right to hate me.” And there was always
the possibility that she would reject Bryce, and then what? Would there be any
point in trying to be accepting by a people she wasn’t even going to be living
with anyway?

“The fact
that you are willing to admit that is proof enough that you are a decent
person.” Bryce smiled. “Trust me, you will win them over eventually.” They
stepped inside his cabin. “Wait here for just a moment,” he told her, and then
went into his bedroom.

As Bryce
ducked inside, he had to admit to himself that she was winning him over too.
No, he amended as he sat down on the edge of his bed for a moment to think. She
had
already
won him over. No longer was he thinking about trying to impress
her simply for the sake of the mating ritual. He was constantly looking for her
smile, for the flash of approval in her eyes. When he’d brought her over to his
sister to visit, he’d actually found himself getting jealous over how much of
Kyra’s attention Leah had taken up. It was ridiculous, considering that his
sister was no threat to his success with the ritual, and only proved to him
that his head and his hormones weren’t the only thing involved.

After he’d
walked Kyra back to the maze, he’d asked his sister for advice on what to do
the next time she came. He had little experience with courting females, and
never in his life though he would be trying to win over a human. He knew that
he needed to spend more time with her alone, but that he needed some sort of
agenda or his mind would quickly follow in the direction of his overactive
hormones. Not that
he
would mind it very much, but when he finally did take
Kyra to his bed, he wanted her to be willing in every possible way.

Looking up,
his eyes settled on the package his sister had left on his bedside table for
him, and smiled. Leah was the most reliable person he’d ever met—and the
only family he had left. She was just as saddened by that fact as he was, which
was another reason she was so keen to have Kyra around—if she did accept
him as her mate, it would give him the chance to finally expand their dwindling
line.

Kyra was
wondering what was taking Bryce so long when he finally emerged. Her eyes
settled on the long, rectangular box tucked beneath his arm, and her eyebrow
quirked. “A present for me?”

He nodded,
holding it out to her. “I thought I might teach you how to use it today.”

Curious, Kyra
opened the package to find a longbow and a quiver full of arrows. Excitement
and surprise pulsed through her veins as she gingerly lifted the bow from the
box, running her hands down the glossy wood, gently plucking at the string.

“Of all the
gifts I’ve ever received,” she murmured, “this is certainly the most unusual
one.”

“I was hoping
to distinguish myself.” Bryce smiled crookedly. “Though admittedly a bow is
much easier to come by than the trinkets and baubles I’m sure a lady like
yourself is used to.”

Kyra looked
up. “It also carries much more meaning than any silly, frivolous item picked up
in a boutique or shop.” She smiled at him. “Especially since you are going to
teach me how to use it.”

“That’s the
plan.” Bryce said, his eyes lighting up, and Kyra noticed for the first time
the tension in his shoulders as they relaxed—he’d been nervous. The
thought warmed her, not because she wanted to see his discomfort, but because
he always seemed so confident, so assured, that it was nice to know he was just
as human as she—or at least in the ways that counted.

Bryce grabbed
his own bow, which was significantly larger and heavier-looking than hers. He
led her outside the village and into the woods to an area he had set up for
target practice—a small clearing with a trio of shooting targets nailed
to a row of trees.

“Let me help
you with that,” he said as Kyra struggled to adjust the length of the quiver
strap. He fixed it for her and then slipped It over her back, and Kyra shivered
slightly as the back of one of his hands gently brushed the underside of her
breast as he adjusted the strap over her chest. He helped her string her bow,
and then swiftly did his and hefted it up.

“Are you
ready?” he asked.

Kyra nodded.
“I think so.”

“Good.” He
straightened. “You’re right-handed?” She nodded. “Then you’re going to grip the
longbow here with your left hand—“ he indicated the grip with his right
hand as he wrapped the fingers of his left hand around it, “and you’re going to
nock your arrow here and make sure the shaft is resting just here against your
finger.” He pointed as he worked, and Kyra watched closely. “Then you pull back
with your string, making sure your elbow comes straight back—” he did so,
the muscles in his arms bunching, “look for your target, and release.”

He released
the bowstring and the arrow shot through the air almost faster than Kyra’s eyes
could follow, landing with a solid thwack in the middle of the target.
“Bulls-eye,” he said, lowering his bow with a satisfied smile before turning to
her. “Your turn now.”

It was harder
than it looked. It took her three tries just to get the arrow nocked, and her
arms trembled slightly as she pulled the string back—the bow was heavier
than she thought it would be, and though she’d grown a bit stronger after
coming out to the countryside, her arms were still woefully weak from a life of
relative idleness. As the daughter of an earl she’d not had to do any strenuous
tasks, and as a woman she’d not been afforded the opportunity to engage in the
same kind of outdoor sports that men did.

Her arrows
flew wide of not only the mark, but the tree itself, and by the time she went
through the entire quiver she’d only hit the trunk twice. “I don’t know how you
make it look so easy,” she said, sighing as they picked up the fallen arrows so
that she could try again.

“My father
was a very good teacher,” Bryce said as she got into position once again. “And
I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Kyra expected
him to stand off to the side and watch her, but instead he positioned himself
to the side of her, crouching so that his chest was pressed intimately against
her back. She drew in a slow breath, inhaling his spicy scent as his fingers
came to the hand on her bow, adjusting her grip, and then pulling her elbow
back more so that the bowstring stretched further.