by Jewel Adams
“Try it again!”
Melane went about the room calling to Tarra, each time she took up another object. Holding up one of the woman’s gowns, Tarra seemed more comfortable when she could see her.
“Melane, how do you feel?”
“Like me, like nothing has happened. Only I am here.”
“But are you back in your room, as well?”
“I do not know.”
“I will see. Stay here, and then go back. I will wait there for your return.”
Melane grew increasingly nervous during the wait. The oddest feeling came over her, as if someone was pulling on her. Then it happened. She felt as if she were physically yanked off her feet and thrown backwards.
Melane found herself in her room on the floor, with Tarra hovering over her in a panicky state.
“Melane! Oh dear, what have I done to you? Speak to me.”
“I…I’m alright, just weak.”
Tarra helped her up and over to the bed. “Lie down and rest.”
“What happened?”
“I came in and you were here. I thought you had returned. I didn’t realize my mistake until I touched you.”
When the woman’s words faltered. “Tell me, Tarra, you must.”
“It was like touching…death. You were cold, a shell with no life in your eyes or body. I became frightened and called for you to return.”
“You drew me back, rather forcefully too. I had no control to stop myself.”
“This power needs much caution, Melane.”
“Ah, you are so right Tarra.” Melane had not tried to use it again, promising Tarra she wouldn’t unless she was there to guard her vacant being from an innocent intruder. There had also been the weakness that grew increasingly worse after her return. Tarra used the leaves to revive her. When Melane asked about them, Tarra told her Wylan found them in her things. Shemon must have put them there. Tarra informed her of the other times they were forced to use them. Melane didn’t like how very precious they were to her.
In the waking dreams, Melane lacked control over when they came upon her. These new found powers she did control. Manipulating people and objects took some inner thought, but Melane did not need the leaves to revive her spent strength. Her soft brow tightened. The separation from herself could only be used in the direst of circumstances. The irreplaceable leaves were too valuable to waste on frivolous yearnings.
Melane began to regret not having the full knowledge of her powers. She possessed little inkling how far she could travel away from herself or what the dangers might be.
Fearing for Melane’s safety, Tarra swore them both to silence. She told her there were those in Moondock that would want to use Melane’s gifts for dark purposes, making Melane shutter at the evil possibilities.
Neither of them spoke of it, but she knew Tarra was thinking of the threat for Wylan. “How can I help him, if he keeps me at a distance?”
~*~
The old servant entered the room, beckoning Melane to the waiting bath. With reluctant steps she crossed the rich sable tiles that reflected the creamy marble walls and graceful tapestries adorning Wylan’s chambers. Staying here among his personal things became extremely difficult. A small part of her felt warmly close to him, but objects were not the man. No matter how much they mirrored his commanding personality. Again she asked the question, why am I here? Why do you force me to remain?
The request for her presence at dinner tonight came by messenger this morning. Melane wanted to refuse Wylan’s off handed invitation, but realized he expected such a reaction when his emissary confidently added, that the king would understand if she wasn’t up to making an appearance. Melane sent the Selam away without an answer. If she hoped to provoke Wylan into coming to her, she failed.
Tonight he would be entertaining Gallen and his entourage in a show of their mutual alliance. She would attend, if for no other reason than to declare she was now a part of his life. If he detested her presence so immensely, she hoped he would relent and let her go back to Cibrac.
Even his mother appeared appalled at Wylan’s behavior. Melane almost believed Tarra regretted what she instigated. Melane felt only the cold truth of his hate. If another claimed her she would have been gone from here by now. Only Wylan, would and did, realize her intent to escape, taunting her with his watchdogs.
Her heart was heavy. Wylan’s shunning hurt more than she would ever admit. Not pressing the real reason for her presence among these Selams, filled her with a gnawing guilt.
“The blending of two sect, two strengths.” Shemon’s prediction held its meaning clearer than Melane would ever have believed. It was the Lamar training she called on to guide her through the night ahead. For only she could know the pain she would be suffering in his presence. Wylan’s capture upon her heart was her prison. Only Wylan could defeat the marauding destruction he created.
~*~
“Melane, you are beautiful, stop fidgeting.” The gods must be blinding her son. How could he deny this girl?
“My hair?”
“Is perfect.”
Standing back, Melane gave herself a final critical check in the mirror. Her hair was done in a sleek style, pulled back in a ponytail, wrapped in pearls about the thick mass high on her crown. The long midnight lengths fell about her like a lacy veil. The striking blue eyes staring back at her matched the soft hues of the fitted dress. The rich folds molded themselves to her athletic form, encasing her in their exotic light. Tiny teardrop pearls, trimmed the deep cut of the dress over her breast. A flowing train from her shoulders completed the regal effect.
Smiling into her reflection she felt her confidence rise. Silently she dared Wylan to ignore her tonight.
Holding to her determination, Melane joined Tarra for the walk through the brilliantly lit halls. She still marveled over the beauty of Wylan’s palace. There was so much to see of his estate and she hungered to see the training grounds of his army. Unfortunately, the combat courtyard was forbidden to any elamie.
The inequalities were subtle, but nonetheless evident. This was the most difficult part of her new life. Melane discovered that Wylan’s household was unique for a Selam, due to Tarra’s status and now her own.
Approaching the grand ballroom the gay laughter and music could be heard floating throughout the halls. She never expected so many people. Besides the guest, there were jugglers, musicians and tumblers entertaining the colorful crowd.
Tarra seemed to sense Melane’s nervousness and remained close to her side as they entered the room. A servant passed, offering them goblets of wine. Its warming quality seeped through her, gently easing away the tension.
“…A beautiful…The elamie our king accepted…I wouldn’t have turned her away…He’s a fool, such a sweet trap.”
Shaking her head against the bombardment of different voices, they came from every direction, making her turn full circle. No lips moved and only sly looks gave evidence as to who might have said anything.
“…heard he has not made it legal, maybe…”
“Wylan must be made of steel to deny himself her favors.”
Gripping Tarra’s arm, Melane moved closer to her. “Tarra, do you hear them?”
“Who child? I hear nothing but the crowd.”
Melane closed her mouth, stiffening over what she believed. “The wine?”
“It is strong, do take care on how much you drink.”
Could the brew have heightened her senses to their very thoughts?
An extremely handsome Selam with light blonde hair and green eyes was looking at her. Keeping her gaze moving around him, Melane concentrated on him.
“She would be worth foregoing all others in looks alone…such enticing…”
Melane’s face flared in warmth over the thoughts coming from the man. Regaining her composure, she tried it again, giggling over an elamie’s impatient longings for her Selam and the night ahead. Melane could only stare at the man in wonder.
Was this another of
her powers? Reading another’s thought could be intriguing. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what others thought of her, it could also be embarrassing. It was a relief to find she could easily control this particular gift. Setting the goblet down she started by not indulging any further in the enhancement.
General Majok was the first one to directly approach them.
“Good evening.”
“General.”
“It seems I missed a rare event the other night. I can’t say I am pleased, Melane.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to the man’s declaration. His knowing smile said he caught her discomfort.
“Melane, should things not go as planned for you, I will gladly take up where Wylan has failed.” Bowing his head in respect to Tarra, he kissed the back of Melane’s hand before leaving.
Majok! The peacock possessed more courage than most, openly showing his attraction for Melane! Wylan’s fist clenched dangerously from the fire coursing through him for the man’s effrontery.
She needed no powers to feel his heated eyes upon her. Turning in slow deliberation, Melane confronted Wylan. A head taller than most, he couldn’t be missed across the room. Sucking in her breath through clenched teeth, she refused to let his glaring anger sway her from her objective. All day she told herself she must act immune to his shunning and her back stiffened in determination.
Melane left Tarra’s side. Never taking her eyes away from his intense gaze--she moved through the crowd towards him. Drawing closer, she saw how his black embers fought not to drop down upon her silk clad body. Some inner intuition took over and an ingrained grace seemed to come to life through her shimmering curves.
Ah--but she would make him see her. The new, primitive power she felt had nothing to do with sorcery. Melane’s confidence was that of a woman and she listened to all the awakening instincts. Wylan was first a man, proud to a fault and incapable of conquering what she saw and felt coming from him.
Stopping directly in front of him, Melane lavished a low curtsey before him. “My lord.”
Wylan felt his throat constrict over the beauty prostrate before him. Unable to stop himself, Wylan took hold of her hand bringing her back up before him.
“Melane.”
His voice was a husky drug to her senses, so long denied. Smiling openly up to his schooled expression, she wondered how strong he actually was. A heady thought took hold of her, this was a battle she was engaged in, abet no swords, but an inner sense told Melane she was no longer without weapons. She recalled his threats from the wilderness. Ah, yes, my king, our battles will be fierce.
As if he had heard her warrior’s cry, Wylan’s eyes grew fiercely bright as they tried to rule her over into submission. Melane was now engaged in a fight with an opponent she had no intention of losing to.
“Wylan please introduce me to your honored guest.”
A moment of confusion overcame the star flashing darkness in his glorious eyes. “As you wish, my lady.”
Melane made herself maintain her smile when his hand closed over her own preventing its withdrawal. So the battle begins. We will see whose weapons are stronger. Mine may be untested, but by the stars, they are giving me a feeling of power I have not obtained before.
“Gallen of Windland, may I present my…lifemate, Melane.”
Broad chested, the older man’s interest came to life in the blue eyes shadowed under bushy red brows. The full lips opened to a full smile within the thick bronzed beard. He was not as tall as Moondock’s Selams, but his barreled breadth held much strength and his gaze held astonished humor for his host.
“My, my, this is a pleasant surprise. Like your father, eh Wylan? There is more of my blood running in your veins than either father or son would likely admit.”
Turning his laughing gaze upon Melane, he took her hand from Wylan’s grasp. “So I now have a new niece to add to my family, and a real beauty you are. Come, we will get acquainted, Melane, and let poor Wylan tend to the social amenities demanding his attention.”
Melane held herself back from seeking Wylan’s approval. “I would be honored, Gallen of Windland.”
“Not more than I, for the one that trapped my nephew. Shall we walk out into the fresh night air?”
Nodding, Melane accepted his arm as offered. Many a curious eye followed their exit out onto the open veranda. But she refrained from listening to their thoughts. Only one man’s thoughts mattered and she could not bring herself to invade Wylan in such an underhanded manner.
“You are a rare one.”
Melane didn’t shirk from the man’s obvious curiosity and pleasure.
“You flatter me, Gallen.”
His hearty laughter earned an honest smile. She liked this forward man, Wylan’s blooded relative.
“I won’t ask how you convinced that stubborn man to accept your claim. No doubt, my niece Tarra had her hand in the affair.”
“Wylan’s mother?”
“Aye! I see they have not educated you on our ties. Which also tells me you are as they say, a stranger among us.”
“Yes on both counts, my Lord Gallen.”
“You may call me Uncle. I am the brother of Tarra’s father. And I never forgave Cristare for taking my niece away.”
His voice held too much jest for Melane to feel any ill will over his boast.
“I am glad to see her son has some sense in his thick head.”
An ally in a Selam?
The thought must have registered across her face, for his fingers gripped her chin raising her face up to his scrutiny. “There is sadness in those lovely eyes. Has your choice not pleased you?”
Evading his question never entered her thoughts. “The choice was preferable to the fate that awaited.”
“But, I can see he does not feel what I see you do, or he doesn’t allow it to show. I am surprised he allowed this claim. He is probably still coming to terms with what he has committed to. Time will ease the shock, but you, my pretty Melane, must be the one to heal the man’s wounded pride.”
“But will his anger allow me to try? I have no heart to stay where I am not wanted.”
“Melane, though we have just met. I give you this offer freely. Should anything drive you from Moondock, your presence will be welcomed in Windland, one has only to follow the coastline north to find it. But do give him time, Melane.”
“Your offer is very generous for a stranger, Gallen.”
“A sweet stranger who is now family should expect nothing less. Now we best return before he comes storming out here with his impatience.”
Looking where Gallen’s eyes directed, her own gaze met the stern frown marring Wylan’s noble face.
“He is not as unaffected by you as he would like to believe. Aye, my niece? I think it would be even better if I kept you with me awhile longer. My family is here and they would never forgive me if I failed to introduce you.”
Melane almost stumbled as they passed Wylan. The storm gathering in his darkening eyes held the force to reach out and touch her. Only Gallen’s strong squeeze on her hand held her at his side.
To her delight Gallen’s large family was as charming as their sire. Tarra joined them and Melane could see the close bond that still existed between them. Another surprise came to Melane. Gallen took her to meet his lovely Edwina…his lifemate or wife as he lovingly called her.
Within their throng, she quickly learned the difference between Windland and Moondock. All Selams and elamies in Windland were lifemates!
She understood this caused the separation of Moondock and Windland. Gallen’s sect held the strong belief in what he called the old way. The division also caused the course of the recent strife between the two Selam kingdoms. Melane learned that a Selam from Moondock abducted Gallen’s own daughter, Bella, from within his compound.
Bella was a very young elamie with wild red hair and her father’s large blue eyes. She was very outspoken and told Melane her Selam abductor’s name was Gorman, and that he treated her with respe
ct.
Her father’s face blotched red over Bella’s defense of Gorman. Bella’s mind was full of dreams and hopes for the Selam and something Bella called, love. Finding the object of Bella’s heart filled vision, Melane discovered a young and equally entranced Selam. Hair the color of damp earth and eyes sparkling in gold on forest green, Bella’s Gorman proved to be one enchanting young male.
From across the room the young man’s feelings for the vivacious redheaded girl were fierce in his admiration. His thoughts also held the battle against what Bella posed to his Selam beliefs. Melane listened hard to what Gorman struggled with; it ran deeper than pride and the possibility of missing out on future elamie’s favors. She caught an undying loyalty to his fellow Selams and to their code of conduct.
What startled Melane was the lad’s desire to have Bella and to claim her, as was his right. He remained furious over being forced to return her to her father. With all his heart he cherished this young woman, but his oath to Wylan prevented him from retaking Bella.
Although she felt like an intruder, Melane could not stop herself from listening to Gallen’s thoughts and his displeasure over the situation. His fears for his daughter were centered on the differences in their cultures. His greatest fear was for what Bella might eventually face here at Moondock. To Gallen, a female was to be cherished and loved by only one man, he would have no less for his own daughter.
Unconsciously Melane sought out Wylan. The distance separating them didn’t dim the agitated light in his gaze upon her. Wishfully, she wondered what it would be like if Wylan looked upon her with the strength of emotion she just felt in Gorman.
The temptation to discover her answers by invading Wylan’s mind made her jerk her eyes away. Vowing never to use her powers against him, she refused to think how easy it might be, especially the controlling power. Her stomach tightened in revulsion, knowing that if she gave in to desire everything between them would only be held by lies.
More disturbing thoughts took hold of Melane. These feelings that she unveiled between Bella and Gorman, were they inside of her? Could it be love for Wylan that filled her heart with thunder?
Falling under the upheaval going on inside her she paid little heed to the conversation going on around her.