Still, those were stories for children and lovesick adolescents.
"Look, I know how it sounds. But, until the next full moon, we're going to need to be near each other on a regular basis. Especially for the first few days." She pushed herself up off the couch and began to pace. "We also might start to be able to feel what the other is feeling. Know when the other is hurt or in danger."
"Is that it?" He let the sarcasm drip a little and sprawled out into the space she left behind.
"For now, yes."
There she went, avoiding his eyes again. He ran what she'd said back through his mind. "So, what happens after the next full moon?"
"Nothing. Well, that is, if we don't have sex in the grove again, all the symptoms will fade and we go back to normal. You go your way, and I…"
"You marry the man you're betrothed to."
She rolled her eyes. "Daen doesn't really want to marry me. He will change his mind, eventually."
Caer sat forward, ears alert for every nuance of tone. "You sound very sure of that."
"Of course I am. He doesn't even know me. We spent maybe a half hour together at his cousin's christening. Marrying me will be a political nightmare for both of us and he doesn't get much financial compensation. Our valley supports itself, but there's not much profit."
Her face was guileless and Caer found himself wanting to believe her. Of course, the mention of making love brought all kinds of visceral memories to the fore. The silk of her skin gliding over his. The soft huff of her breath against his lips. The pleasure-pain of her fingers tangling in his hair when she arched underneath him.
"What happens if we do make love again? On the next full moon?"
Caer's breath hitched at the thought. Next to him, Lia froze, eyes wide and unblinking.
He wasn't sure which of them was more surprised by his question. Lia's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, as if trying to choose words carefully.
After a silent moment, she leaned back and put some more distance between them.
"We'd be bound for life. That connection would grow stronger. According to family lore, after a while we'd be able to talk to each other mind to mind. We wouldn't be able to be separated for more than a few weeks."
"We'd be married?"
"In a kind of ultimate sense of the word, yes."
Caer knew he had to be careful here. He wanted more information from her but one misstep on his part could end up with him revealing more than he learned. He had to know what had happened though. How she had managed magic that was little more than myths as far as his people, and most humans, were concerned.
"How is that possible? How can we have a bond that is the stuff of fables?"
Her relaxed posture went rigid and her voice cooled.
"We have been pretty isolated in this valley for generations. We've held on to some folk magic and traditions the rest of the world has forgotten."
"Yes, but you'd think this would be the kind of thing people would hold on to."
He was pushing too much, but it didn’t stop him from wanting answers.
Instead, Lia shifted away from him, looking toward the door where the sound of multiple voices moved steadily closer. Getting to her feet, she strode across the room with only a shrug before opening the door to let Nel and Keneally tumble in.
A cacophony of voices exploded in the room when all three tried talking at once.
"What were you thinking--"
"We need to--"
"What did he see--"
"Did the Godd--"
"Enough." Lia's voice resonated through the room and even Caer found himself frozen for a second from the quiet authority. "We can have this conversation later."
Three sets of eyes flickered toward him and his own narrowed in response. Obviously, they intended for the discussion to take place without him.
"Nel, we'll need to get a room prepared for Wyn." She grimaced slightly. "Somewhere in the west wing. Near me."
Nel nodded reluctantly and shifted to stare at him again, this time with cold warning in her eyes. For a second, he was confused. Then he remembered what Lia had said about needing to be close to each other. Apparently, they, at least, believed it necessary.
He stood and joined the loose circle, standing as close to Lia as he could get without actually touching her. The buzz on his skin ratcheted up, and he wondered if eventually, he'd be a believer, too.
"If we need to stick close, wouldn't it be better for us if we shared a room?"
He had to fight to hold back the smirk that wanted to erupt when three sets of eyes gave him identical hard, humorless stares.
-6-
Caerwyn's head throbbed. His skin itched. He couldn't believe it was real. He might have thought Lia had cursed him with the same obsession charm that afflicted Daen except she was suffering too. Even with the aching need he knew pushed at both of them, she'd done her best to make sure their paths rarely crossed in the days since the full moon festival. That they only met enough to keep the worst of the symptoms at bay for a while. Caer could only be sure of seeing her at dinner, when they were surrounded, and buffered, by the rest of the inhabitants of the manor house.
When he did see her, though, she looked as bad as he felt. Every night, the dark circles under her eyes grew bigger and deeper while her face grew paler.
Earlier and earlier in the evening, she was giving in, allowing him to approach her. To hold her hand in his. Or placing her fingers on his when he escorted her to the table from the pre-dinner gathering in the library.
Proximity and contact were the only things that briefly allayed the nagging buzz in his head, the itching of his skin, the prickling of his heart.
The need to be near her, to touch and to hold her, got stronger every day. Harder to deny every hour.
It was killing him. It was killing her.
Unerringly, Caerwyn's eyes sought her out. Separated by several hundred yards of manor lawn, he knew exactly where she was without even looking. He was always aware of precisely where she was. What she was feeling, at least in a rough way.
Now, he felt the same desperation radiating off of Lia that vibrated in him. He also felt her resolve and determination to ignore it.
Caer could see her exhaustion. It was there in the way her shoulders slumped and the way she walked with slow deliberation. Today, none of her usual spark or decisive gait was evident when she moved from the garden to the front of the manor house with her head bowed.
When Lia paused at the wide porch steps, then sank down to sit with her face in her hands, Caer’s own never-ending headache flared in response.
"Enough is enough," he announced and tossed aside the shovel in his hand. "I'm taking a break."
Danny looked up in surprise then noticed where Wyn's eyes were focused and a quick flicker of panic crossed his face.
"Um, but, Keneally. He wanted this done today. Soon."
Despite his exasperation, Caer kept his expression neutral until the boy's rambling stuttered to a halt.
"I know Keneally tasked you with keeping me occupied but we're both sick of doing busy work." His attention pulled implacably back to the still slumped lady on the step. His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "I have to go see her. She's hurting."
Without waiting, Caer strode across the garden at a clipped pace. The closer he got, the more he saw Lia relaxed. Her shoulders eased down her back. The hands holding her head loosened their grip and released the bone-white tension around the knuckles. The bow-string taut arch of her neck flowed into a softer curve.
With her eyes covered and dealing with the unease of her body, she didn't notice his approach.
Not wanting to surprise her, he kept his voice low and stopped several feet from her. "Lia."
His attempt to not startle her, however, failed spectacularly. As soon as he spoke, Lia burst into movement. Her head shot up, hands fell to her sides, and she jumped to her feet, backing away in a split second.
"What are you doing here? Ar
en't you supposed to be…?"
"Doing meaningless labor on the other side of the manor?"
She bristled at his tone. "It's not meaningless. The entire valley depends on the manor to supplement their stores. Every job is necessary."
He narrowed his eyes and curled his fingers against the urge to reach out for her, to pull her close, bury his nose in her hair and surround himself with her scent.
"Maybe. But I'm pretty sure the work Keneally has found for Danny and me to do is more about keeping me away from you than supporting the valley."
She huffed but did not quite meet his eyes.
"We have to stop this. I know you’re trying to keep the bond from deepening, but it's hurting you. It's no picnic for me either."
She snorted. "You don't even believe in the moon-bond."
"Yeah, well that lasted until the second night I couldn't sleep and the realization that this damn headache only goes away when I get to hold your hand."
Lia laughed and half-nodded before pressing lips into a tight line. Her fingers twitched and her foot shuffled forward an inch or two before she caught herself. It tugged at the last of Caer’s resolve.
"To hell with it."
He'd resisted giving into the bond for his own comfort but her discomfort tugged at him, made him want to ease her pain.
Caer covered the few feet between them and wrapped his arms around her. For a second she stiffened, but it only took half of a heartbeat for her to relax against him.
Lia laid her forehead lightly on his chest, her hands scooted up to wrap tightly around his waist. He gave in to the urge he'd had for days and pressed his head against the silky fall of her hair. Allowed himself a moment to inhale the rich, sweet scent of violets he'd been dreaming of.
"I shouldn't be here," she murmured into his skin. "Nel is waiting for me in the herbarium."
His arms tightened fractionally, and he allowed his hand to glide up and tangle in her thick hair. "Just a few minutes. Give us a few minutes’ reprieve."
She sighed and didn't protest. Instead, she snuggled deeper into his embrace.
Both their bodies relaxed against each other. The tension that had wrapped him for days gave way to a sense of rightness and an easing of need and hunger he hadn't been able to feed.
Her face tilted up to look at him, her smile relieved and welcoming.
Once again, he gave in to his instincts and lowered his mouth to meet hers. She tasted like sunshine and honey. Her lips were soft and silky and moved against his with a light tremor.
There was no doubt he could not give this up. Could not go back to having only a brief brush of hands before dinner. She was his.
At least until the next full moon.
After a long, sweet taste, Caerwyn reluctantly lifted his head away from Lia. He let her shift back a little but kept his arms loosely around her. Despite the inches she put between them, though, her fingers remained resting on his shoulders.
"We need this, Lia," he whispered, hoarse and urgent while he stared into her eyes.
"I know."
"Just holding hands at dinner isn't enough."
"I know."
"I can't stand to see you, to feel you, suffering."
She sighed and leaned forward, again resting her head on his chest. "I hate feeling you hurting. It's taking everything I have not to seek you out each day."
"Why? Why haven't you?"
"Because the deeper we let the bond grow, the harder it will be to resist making it permanent."
"And you don't want it make it permanent? Would I be such a bad life-mate?"
He didn't intend to ask the question. Hell, he didn't even know if he could trust her yet. But her denial of a future had let a sharp, hot stab of rejection slice through him.
"You know I can't. Even if Daen comes to his senses, I can't muddy the succession for Tanis."
"Lia."
She tilted her head back and smiled at him, but sadness traced around the edges of it.
"We can talk about this later. Nel hates it when I'm late."
"Later," he said firmly and loosened his grip a little.
She took a couple of short steps back and shifted her weight to take a third when a sound humming from the tree line caught his attention.
Acting on instinct, he threw himself toward Lia, putting his body between her and the thick woods.
The slicing pain carved across the bottom of his shoulder blade as he wrapped himself around Lia and pushed them both to the ground.
"What the—" Lia started to struggle against him, but stopped abruptly when her hand scrabbled along his back and he winced at the brief, fiery flash of agony. She reached out carefully and touched his shoulder softly before pulling her hand back. They both stared at the small smear of blood on her fingertips.
"You're hurt," she whispered, eyes wide.
He shook his head. The pain was bearable.
"It's just a scratch." He pushed himself up and noted the single arrow lying a few feet away. Narrowing his eyes, Caer swung his attention back toward the woods. His senses extended outward and zeroed in on the slight motion and rustle where something disturbed the brush.
"Wait here." Caer took off toward the trees where the assassin had taken shelter without waiting to see if she listened to his command.
He was at a full run but, behind him, he heard Lia struggling to catch up. He cursed, realizing he should have known better. If he'd learned anything about the Handmaiden in the last couple of weeks, it was that she put the safety of the valley first. Her own wellbeing was a distant afterthought.
At the forest's edge, Caer stopped to examine the would-be assassin's hiding spot. A small grouping of young trees and large bushes had provided decent cover, allowing a perfect view of the hunter's prey while concealing him from prying eyes. Caerwyn noted the trampled leaves and a clear trail of disturbed earth but the prints became muddled a few steps away. At the edge of his enhanced hearing, he heard something moving quickly through the woods. For a split second, he considered giving chase.
The sound of Lia's lighter footstep and rapid breath approaching from behind made him reconsider. As much as he wanted to hunt down and punish whoever dared to try to hurt what was his, he couldn't risk leading her closer to danger.
"What is it? Who shot that arrow? No one should be hunting this close to the manor."
"I don't know. They took off deeper into the woods before I got here." He snarled and stepped closer, hand itching at his side to wrap around her and carry her to safety. "They were hunting this close because they were hunting you."
He knew his fury was misplaced but he couldn't get his hand on the culprit at the moment. And her complete lack of a sense of self-preservation became his target.
"What? No. It must have been a poacher."
A growl welled up in his chest and he had to swallow it back. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
"Lia. If I hadn't gotten between you and the archer that arrow would have taken you right in the heart."
She shook her head, but he saw her eyes glaze and he knew she was reliving that moment. Starting to believe what he said.
"Look, I know you don't want to get too close to me but someone is trying to kill you. I can't leave you alone. Even if the bond weren't pressing me to do everything in my power to protect, my conscience would."
Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know they weren't aiming at you? There are a lot of people in the valley who aren't happy about the moon-bond. And some who think I should have considered Gui as a consort."
"If they were aiming for me, it would have missed by a mile when I pushed you, instead of grazing me."
Lia pinched her lips and raised her hand to point a vehement finger at his chest. Then she glanced at her hand and the drying blood. Curling her fingers back into a loose fist, she let the hand drop and bit her lip.
"You're still hurt, we need to get you back and clean that wound." Her soft eyes stroked over him before she turned toward the
manor. "We can argue the rest later."
*****
Lia dabbed at the damaged skin with short, gentle strokes, trying not to let her fingers stray toward the expanse of smooth, warm skin in front of her. She could easily heal the wound with the magic of the valley, but using the gifts for such a minor thing would flout tradition and set tongues wagging. Again.
It hadn't occurred to her what kind of torture she'd be letting herself in for when she insisted Wyn take his shirt off.
Or that she'd have to battle the sizzle of pure pleasure that coursed through her every time her skin met his. Or the way the sight of the broad, muscled chest and back would plunge her into the sense memory of the last time she'd caressed every inch of him.
Even now, an echo of the bliss from the night in the Circle buzzed along the bond. Under her fingers, she felt him relaxing, felt the relief of connection humming between them.
Only the presence of Nel by her side, not to mention half the manor's workers looking on, kept her from giving in to the urge to stroke the skin beneath her hand. To let her fingers explore the broad muscles more thoroughly and relearn the curves and angles of the man she'd been thinking about constantly for too many days.
Pulling her attention, and her hand, back where they belonged, Lia finished cleaning out the slice on Wyn's shoulder and handed the leftover healing balm back to Nel. The large audience milling around while she worked made her supremely self-conscious and her movements were stiff and sharp.
She'd already sent Danny and a handful of others into the forest to see if they could track down the attacker. Lia wouldn't be able to decide the next step to take until they returned.
Without looking up from where hands worked, she kept her voice level and nonchalant. "I don't think there is anything else to be done, here, for now. We still have several hours until sunset to catch up on the day's work, however."
Reluctant and slow, the gathered men and women drifted away in ones and twos toward their labors. A handful of Keneally's favorites remained next to the older man, a self-appointed group of bodyguards. So far, Keneally had been strangely quiet, content to stand back and glower.
By Vengeance Guided (The Lost Shrines Book 1) Page 8