He paced carefully along the back of the buildings, noting any flattened grass or disturbed dirt, waiting to catch a sudden whiff of someone who hadn't been there a moment before.
The stables, though, swarmed with activity. The stablehands had been roused to saddle horses for the search parties heading outside the walls. Grooms were being pressed into service by the Daen's seneschal, Lennar, to carry messages and organize communication.
The building blazed with torches and sound and people. The eruption of noise and light and scent masked any abrupt changes that might have alerted Maddyn to the presence of the assassin.
If he could swear in Hound form, curses would be blistering the night. Instead, a frustrated growl rumbled deep in his chest. Hugging the shadows, he passed unseen by the search parties and snorted. Poor Daen needed to improve the quality of his castle guard if they didn't even notice a huge, white dog roaming the darkness.
Despite the unlikeness of finding anything, Maddyn continued to methodically circle around the entirety of the stronghold. He followed along the wall, checked watchtowers, including the crumbling remains of the north corner, and stuck his nose into every outbuilding, shed, and mouse hole.
By the first hints of dawn, he found himself back at the Temple. No hint or clue of the assassin's whereabouts or identity to show for his exhaustion. He ambled over to the bed of luneils. The last of the blooms were closing but a sweet hint of their fragrance lingered in the air. The Hound flopped on the ground and dropped his head onto his paws.
Last evening, he'd been here with Yve. Had almost kissed her. Maddyn regretted now that he hadn't. In that moment, it would have been innocent. Or, as innocent as a kiss could be, anyway. Just a simple acknowledgment of attraction and burgeoning affection. Now, they were connected by a moon-bond. Any move they made toward each other would deepen that bond, binding them ever more tightly.
As unlikely and inadvisable as being together had seemed last night, now it was impossible. She was the Blessed Kelan. Leader of the Temple Order. And new keeper of the secrets Maddyn needed to uncover.
But he wanted her. More than he'd ever wanted something for himself. Maddyn wished he could blame it on the moon-bond. But that only brought to light what had already been hiding inside him. Forced him to acknowledge she'd drawn him from the very beginning. And not just because he was worried she was a spy.
The scent of lavender and citrus drifted in the air and automatically, the Hound's nose lifted. Sniffing deep, he turned his head to see her coming out of the Temple. When she caught sight of him, she stopped. He flexed his paws and remembered which form he inhabited. Remembered she'd never seen him like this. She knew, of course. Everyone had known within an hour of his arrival what he was beneath the surface. But knowing and seeing were two different things.
Yve stared at him, swallowing hard and, for a moment, his heart became a stone in his chest, certain she'd flee from him in this form. Instead, she lifted her chin and started across the garden with defiant grace. Not wanting to frighten or discourage her approach, Maddyn stayed prone and perfectly still, waiting for her to come to him.
When she stopped next to him, dropped to one knee and sank her fingers into the fur at the scruff of his neck, Maddyn sighed, closed his eyes and inched closer.
The bond buzzed between them. The hunger to touch eased as unspoken need drew them together. Happiness, satisfaction, and peace snuck through him. He knew the contentment was dangerous. He wasn't here to find joy or serenity. But he couldn't resist its draw.
-5-
THE fur was softer than Yve expected. Thick and heavy, but silky against her palm. Heart and mind overloaded with events, emotions and reactions she couldn't hope to sort out, she dropped her head onto the Hound’s back and stopped thinking. She listened to the strong heartbeat, let her breathing fall into the ebb and flow of the body under her ear. Maddyn curled around her, offering silent support with a soft whuff and cold press of nose before resuming his still sprawl under her.
For a few, precious moments, she let her mind go blank. Let everything that had been clutching and tearing at her from the inside go quiet and still.
The previous night's vigil had been only the beginning of the rituals marking the Kelan's passing. They would have a few hours break to rest before more prayers in the afternoon. Sunset would bring them to the healer's chambers where they would work in concert to prepare the Kelan for her last journey. The pattern would repeat for the next three days until the funeral and final rites took place at dawn of the fourth morning.
The previous night spent in silent prayer in the meditation chamber had been trying in so many different ways. Not the least of which was the humiliating conversation that took place at the end of their vigil.
In the normal course of things, the new Kelan would lead the prayers, liaise with the healers and perform the final ritual of passing at the funeral.
But, as Elder Seryt Gyrt had loudly and gleefully proclaimed, Yve had little experience and less training in the elaborate and important rituals. Yve had stumbled through the simple vigil prayers of the night. There was no way she could perform rites in front of the entirety of the castle's inhabitants.
High-Seryt Brynna had reluctantly stepped forward. She'd met Yve's eyes, but her face had been blank. A hint of her grief glinted in the sea green of her eyes, but her words were clipped and her demeanor stiff.
The elder's smugness had made Yve feel useless and unwanted. Brynna's stoic offer had made her feel guilty and burdensome.
Exhausted after the night of unrelenting mourning and uncertainty, Yve had been relieved when dawn broke and the other Seryts left to seek their rest. Wanting nothing but a reprieve from the unending heartache and self-doubt, she'd eagerly trailed the others out of the room in search of her own bed.
Only to stop abruptly at the stairs with a horrible epiphany.
She was no longer a novitiate. Her bed in the dorm next to Enna was no longer hers. As tempting as it was to ignore the expectations of the Order, she wouldn't give Gyrt the satisfaction of pointing out yet another example of her inappropriate choices. Of using it as more proof of how completely unprepared and unsuitable Yve was to wear the Kelan's medallion.
But Yve couldn't bring herself to go to Kelan Orra's chamber, either. She wasn't ready for things to be quite that real.
Instead, she'd put one foot in front of the other and found herself in the garden. Facing the huge, white Hound stretched out on the ground by the luneil beds.
She stared at him for too long, taking in the sleek, pure white form resting under the first pale streaks of dawn. Maddyn was as beautiful as a Hound as he was as a man.
The bond hummed and buzzed along her skin, drawing her to the comfort and strength of the man, no matter what shape he wore. They were connected whether they wanted to be or not. For the moment, he was hers, even if she knew she couldn't really have him. She'd made a promise to Orra and she intended to keep it.
But, for this moment, she was overwhelmed, exhausted and lost. She'd steal a few minutes and not think about it too deeply.
And so she'd crossed the garden and sank into the comfort he'd offered. She let the tears flow, drenching the soft fur that cradled her. Until nothing was left. Feeling guilty after a while for taking his silent strength and offering him nothing but her pain in return, Yve sat up and shuffled back a foot or too.
"I'm sorry, Lord Maddyn," Yve said, dabbing under her eyes and trying not to give in to the urge to wipe her face on her sleeve. "I shouldn't have been so presumptuous."
The Hound shook his head, his soft whuff sounding exasperated. The huge body shifted gracefully to his feet and stepped back. Pale white mist blurred the air around him and made her eyes ache until she could no longer look directly at Maddyn.
She blinked the burn away, and when her vision cleared, Maddyn stood in front of her.
The ease and comfort she'd felt with the Hound deserted her. Wrong-footed and uncertain, her mouth latched onto the m
ost inane thing it could find.
"Where do your clothes go?"
Maddyn's eyes widened, but his lips tugged into a smirk.
"Not sure, exactly. One of the Tribe shamans used to say that we don't change our shape so much as trade it with the form of our spirit animal. So, I suppose, my clothes probably go with my body to the spirit plane to wait until I call back my human form. It's why the Hound doesn't show up in my pants."
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, but his eyes glittered with amusement. Yve didn't know whether to believe him or not. Not that it mattered. But now her curiosity overcame her embarrassment.
"What were you doing out here?"
He ducked his head, humor darkening into a frustrated frown.
"I spent the night trying to find some trace of the assassin. I couldn't find a single sign of him. The only way he, or she, I suppose, could evade my tracking was with sorcery." Maddyn scowled, tightening into a pained expression.
"Sorcery?" she asked hesitantly. Both because she feared the answer and because she didn't want to dig deeper at whatever old wound Maddyn was already dealing with.
"Marnak's sorcerer Hafgan has a great many disciples." Maddyn paused and looked away, his mouth set and face hardening into something impenetrable. "One of them was named Irana. She pretended to be something sweet and innocent and wormed her way into our home. Then she murdered my foster parents when they tried to prevent her from stealing one of our Isles' most powerful and important treasures."
Yve pressed her hand to her lips to hold back the gasp, but she couldn't stop the tears that sprang to her eyes.
Everyone had heard the story, of course, of the Lord and Lady Alwyn betrayed by a guest in their home. But no one ever mentioned the connection to sorcery or Hafgan. Maddyn's stoic explanation contrasted with the popular elaborate bardic songs made Yve's heart hurt for him. So much of his life had been turned into entertainment for the masses and yet the bards had gotten so much of it wrong. It made her ache to soothe him. The urge to wrap her arms around him and offer comfort was almost too strong to ignore.
Before she could decide what to do, he faced her again, old pain once again tucked away and eyes beseeching.
"I know you are dealing with a lot. You're grieving and you weren't expecting to take Orra's place. But the last Kelan knew something. I'm sure of it. I need your help."
His face was raw and vulnerable. Yve couldn't forget the fear and the worry etched on his face when he'd talked about his brothers and the danger they were in. Keeping the secrets of the Order was one of the first tenets they learned as a novitiate. Yet, if there was a sorcerer afoot, she owed it to the Order and to the matriarch to do everything possible to help Maddyn protect Galwei and the Temple. Torn, she bit her lip and stroked the heavy silver medallion between fidgeting fingers.
The Orra had told her to trust herself. And her instincts said to trust Maddyn with this. But were those instincts driven by the Kelan's gift? Or by the bond trying to herd them together?
"The Kelan. She said there were secrets I needed to uncover. And she told me where to look for the answers."
"Where?"
Maddyn stepped forward, moving close enough to almost touch. He looked determined and harshly focused. She wanted to reach up. Wanted to sooth the frustration and restless need to act.
Instead, Yve lifted her chin. She wasn't supposed to know of the library's existence. Or, well, she shouldn't have known, before. Even if she dared tell him that precious secret, she couldn't take him to it. The first tenet she learned was that that Temple was sacred. That anything beyond the entry hall and Centrum was forbidden to outsiders.
"I can't tell you."
"Yve. This is important," Maddyn rumbled in a near-growl of frustration. His fingers closed on her shoulder, more gently than she would have expected from the rough emotion ricocheting between them. "People's lives are at stake.”
"I know. But some secrets belong to the Order and to the Temple." Despite her best intentions, her hand came up to stroke soothingly over his hand. "I...I'm trusting you with this. You need to trust me to share what I can."
Maddyn frowned fiercely, pained by having something so important out of his control. Eventually, he nodded in agreement.
Then he dropped his forehead to Yve's, pressing them carefully together. His lips were only inches from hers when he whispered, "I'm trusting you with my brothers' lives."
Heavy, desperate emotions thrummed between them at his quiet admission and knotted deep inside her.
His family and the Order both needed to be protected. They were each risking something precious and delicate.
Yve wasn't sure who moved first but their lips pressed together. Gentle at first. Soft and exploring. But that wasn't enough, not for long. The kiss went deeper, dragging Yve into consuming heat and need. Her hands tangled into the thick length of his hair, and she held on to his solid strength in the maelstrom of passion.
Yve had no idea how long she'd been lost in the embrace when Maddyn jerked his head away, body tightening sharply and his eyes focused on the Temple entrance. The abrupt shift left her unbalanced and her head spinning. With a steadying breath, Yve gathered herself enough to understand he was on alert because he sensed something.
"Lord Maddyn? What is it?"
His attention shifted to her, his whole body relaxing into the smirk he flashed.
"I think we can do away with the titles, at least in private. You can even call me Madd, if you want."
She wanted. But they were already too close. Pushing things past limits that should have been set in stone.
"Maddyn, what is it? Did you see something?"
"Heard. And scented. Someone came out of the Temple. They went back inside when they saw us. One of the Seryts."
"Oh, no!" Yve jerked away, taking several stumbling steps backward. Like it wasn't already too late. She glanced around wildly, knowing it was ridiculous but unable to stop herself.
"Yve," Maddyn stretched out a soothing hand, but she threw herself another step away.
"No. You can't. We can't. I have to go."
"Yve. Stop."
She bristled at the command, but it jerked her out of the panic response. She took a deep breath, gathering herself with the silent lecture on proper Seryt behavior she'd heard more times than she could count since joining the Order.
"Yve, we can't ignore the pull. My brother tried it with his bond-mate, and it only made things worse."
His brother had a moon-bond? Did they consummate it into a permanent bond, like the folk tales extolled with reverence? Or had they let it fade? Was it on purpose? Is that who Daen had meant when he'd talked about “another” bond? A thousand questions tumbled in her head demanding answers.
"Trying to fight it will lead to more indiscretions. We'll be drawn to spend time together. To talk and to touch. Especially in the beginning. If we make a plan, we can keep it private." He brushed his thumb along her cheek. "Keep it just between us. As long we don't finalize the bond on the next full moon, we'll be fine."
Despite echoing her own concerns, his calm dismissal of the bond was a sharp wound. It shouldn't feel like drowning to hear him say they can't be together. She made a promise to Kelan Orra that she'd that carry the burden of the gift and title. There was no room in that promise for Maddyn.
The tug he felt toward his family hummed, constant and quiet, along their connection. The need to do anything necessary to protect his brothers and get back to them. She'd never have a place in his world either.
"Right," she agreed, locking away everything but her determination to get through the next few days without breaking down or proving herself unworthy. "Right. We have to be careful. To do that, I really need to go now and deal with whoever saw us."
How she was going to deal with her, Yve had no idea. But she'd figure out something.
Maddyn looked reluctant to let her go, but she didn't give him a chance to change her mind. With a quick nod and soft goodbye, she turned on
her heel and headed into the Temple.
Inside, she wasn't sure if she should be relieved or scared to find Brynna waiting for her. Elder Seryt Gyrt would have been worse. But a complicated coil of guilt and uncertainty was all twisted up with Yve's respect for the High-Seryt.
So far, Brynna hadn't shown much reaction to Yve's new status though she must be hurt or angry or confused by Orra's choice. Her expression and tone had remained stoic and impassive from the moment she'd seen Yve wearing the medallion. Completely unreadable.
And that was the expression Yve was met with now, in the entry of the Temple.
"Blessed Kelan," Brynna greeted her, dropping her chin to her chest in a precise execution of the appropriate formal posture to address the Kelan.
Yve swallowed against the lump of uneasiness. Brynna bowing to her, even in such a subtle way, felt wrong in so many ways.
"Brynna, you don't have to--"
"I do."
The interruption was curt, and something sharp flashed in the High-Seryt's eyes.
"If you are to be Kelan in the eyes of the kingdom, you must be treated as Kelan in the Temple. The others have...opinions about your sudden elevation. But they will follow my lead."
"And do you? Have an opinion about me, I mean."
Brynna's lips pinched before her expression smoothed out to show nothing but emotionless acceptance once again.
"I am the High-Seryt. My duty is to support and aid the Kelan. Whoever she is."
It wasn't an answer, but it was a declaration of sorts. Relieved at the avowal of support, Yve decided not push.
"Thank you, High-Seryt Brynna." Yve dipped her chin, lowering it a fraction less than Brynna had in an equal show of formality.
"There is an unused sleeping chamber, next to mine. I changed the linens if you'd like to retire there, this morning."
Yve opened her mouth, but words and gratitude seemed stuck behind her tongue. Instead, she just nodded and followed Brynna, grateful that she didn't have to find a place to rest that wasn't filled with more questions and ghosts.
By Destiny Bound (The Lost Shrines Book 2) Page 7