Beneath the Thirteen Moons

by Kathryne Kennedy

  Mahri shrugged. She didn’t know what to say, and neither, obviously, did he. Or did he really care that she’d cracked that mind-barrier? Hoping that she’d let him in as well. She filled her lungs, wishing it were courage instead of air. “I can talk to other wildlife now, too. And of course the natives.”

  He took a step toward the bed and she inadvertently drew back. He reminded her of a treecat on the prowl.

  “Humans too?”

  Mahri shook her head. “Only you, because of our Bond.”

  And then he stood before her, she could feel the heat of him radiate like a small sun. Strong fingers cupped her chin and lifted her head to finally meet her eyes with his own.

  “I always knew you were special,” he said.

  Mahri blinked, the feelings she read in his look twisting something inside of her, slamming that unnamable reaction into her stomach. “You don’t seem surprised to see me,” was all she could think of to say.

  “I knew you’d come back,” he replied with a husky sigh, a hint of arrogance, a trace of anger. “I’m just annoyed that it took you so long.”

  As always, his eyes were her downfall. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t move or breathe against the chemistry that flared between them. And although it hurt with the intensity of it, at the same time a soaring excitement ripped through her that made her weak from its passing.

  The king went down on one knee before her, his large hand cradling the back of her head, pulling her toward his mouth. But she still couldn’t look away from those eyes, the lights in the room reflected there with the pattern of a star-lit sky, because he hadn’t released their hold on her yet, hadn’t tasted enough of her soul.

  “You’ve always been mine,” he murmured. “You’ll be happy, now that you know it in your heart.”

  “Will I?” she sighed, his lips so close to her own she could feel the breath of his words.

  He moved his mouth atop hers, a gentle questioning at first, as if time had made him somehow unfamiliar with her. But then his fingers twisted in her hair and his kiss became demanding, hungry, as if that same stretch of time had also taken his body beyond the limit of endurance and now the need was a wild frenzied thing that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, control.

  Mahri’s body mirrored his, caught the fire of his passion and made of it a raging inferno when it combined with the flame of her own desire. She caught a handful of his hair and pushed his head closer to her own, plunging her tongue into his mouth, trying to crawl inside of him with a fierce need that would’ve frightened her if she’d still had the ability to think.

  When Korl ripped the ties of her vest she felt the scales dig into her skin with a scrape before tearing free and she laughed at the small pain of it. When her leggings came off in the same impatient way, Mahri responded in a like manner with his own silk pants, the thin stuff of it shredding in her grip.

  The sight of his need for her, the throbbing, hard length of it, made her swallow a scream, for she didn’t want everyone in the Tree to know she’d returned—at least, not to announce it in quite that way.

  Korl, watching her look at him, growled.

  And Mahri again compared him to a treecat, wondering how he could make that spine-tingling sound. Then there were no more thoughts, no more words, nothing but the feel of Korl’s smooth skin beneath her fingers, the liquid silk of his hair against her breasts while he tried to devour them, the hot palms of his hands as they branded every one of her curves. He pushed her down among that bed of white petals, the crushing releasing a wave of fresh scent that Mahri was dimly aware of, for his own musky aroma already filled her nostrils, wove a heady path through her lungs, making her dizzy with the sheer potency of it.

  He surrounded her, weighted her with the force of his lips and his thighs pressed against her own, that hardness of him sweeping across the nub of her own center in a hot, wet promise of fulfillment. And Mahri wanted more, scraping her nails across his back and the tense mounds of his bottom, demanding to be a part of him, thrusting her tongue inside his mouth in a parody of what she craved.

  With mindless rapture Korl drove into her, pulled out by necessity and snarled at the need for it, before plunging into her again and again until they both reached that peak of timeless suspension that begged to be shattered into waves of ecstatic pleasure.

  Mahri trembled at the apex of fulfillment, knowing the brilliance that followed, relishing in the anticipation as much as the actual experience itself.

  But she hadn’t been aware of the Power that throbbed through her pathways, so overwhelmed by the physical magic between her and Korl. Yet she felt it now, shivering through her, more than could be accounted for in the small amount of zabba she’d chewed. She realized that Korl had been feeding her Power, that he’d Seen into those green pathways and had waited patiently at where they forked and then spread into her mind.

  Waiting for this moment.

  Mahri had known that he’d ask this of her, to be one in all ways, yet still she balked at his entrance. Even now, with her body tensed like a bow for release, she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t give up her inner mind-self to him.

  Korl thrust at her, his rhythm now slow and purposeful, knowing just where the peak lay so that neither of them tumbled over the edge.

  “I can’t wait,” he ground out, “much longer, water-rat. I don’t have any control with you, but by the Power…” he slammed his teeth together with a grimace and grit out his next words. “This is nothing! Nothing…” and he couldn’t go on, overcome by ragged gasps for air, his body trembling with the control he tried to exert over it.

  But she’d already understood what he’d tried to tell her. That this physical connection between them wasn’t enough for him, couldn’t compare to what he sought from her. Yet, if this were nothing, what awaited them when their minds met?

  He widened that small crack already in her mind-barrier and she let him. When she sensed his presence, that wholesome goodness that could only be Korl, she invaded him in kind, sweeping up his pathways into that familiar golden place she thought of as his mind. Mahri had been here before, but then she’d battled evil and he’d been shuttered against her. And the time before that the touch had been so brief she’d only caught wisps of himself and his memories.

  This time he lay open to her, a warm welcome that felt as if she’d come home. She’d wanted to crawl into his skin, had been frantic with a desire to become one with him. This is what she’d sought—unknowing. The physical aspect of it just a sliver compared to the overwhelming oneness of this mind-joining.

  Ach, how he loved her! And trusted her, for she hadn’t realized how lonely his life had been, how even a crown prince never could afford to completely trust anyone. She hadn’t forgotten that glimpse of memory from his mind before, and knew now that a knife in the dark was the least form of assassination that threatened one direct in line for the throne. Especially when there were other siblings who sought that power.

  Korl thrust once, twice; hard enough to let them become aware of their almost forgotten bodies, and when her own body mercifully convulsed into waves of pleasure, the rest of that mind-barrier shattered as well. For a moment of sheer bliss she encompassed it all: the strength of Korl’s mind, the merging of their souls into one whole, the essence that was the world of Sea Forest—from the smallest slug to the greatest of the leviathans—and the heights of passion.

  Mahri’s mouth dropped open in awe. This was what the natives had wanted for all of mankind. This was why they’d brought her and Korl together, for her to bring the king that awareness of humanity’s connection with this world, to make him one with Sea Forest. For too long the Royals had used the Power to Shape this world to their own will, but in order for humanity to survive they must learn to shape their will to that of Sea Forest.

  Mahri snapped her mouth shut and studied Korl’s face, the wonder that they’d just experienced also reflected there. She laughed with the sheer exuberance of life and he grinned back at her, understandi
ng shining on that handsome face.

  She traced the scars from cheek to jaw and wondered that she’d ever been frightened of this moment. Afraid that she’d lose herself in him. But sharing the mind was like making love, the connection burned but there still lay a separateness, an oneness of identity that became more enhanced by the joining, not overwhelmed.

  Mahri sighed. She’d worried about giving him her heart, and yet, all along, it hadn’t been hers to give. For he’d taken it the first time he’d looked into her eyes. And the fear that he’d leave her, as had Brez and little Tal’li, that it would tear her asunder again… that had also been laid to rest. So simply.

  “You think too much,” drawled Korl, his hand sweeping the hair away from her face.

  She turned into his palm and kissed it. “Aya. We’ll never leave each other, will we?”

  He frowned, but knew what she meant, for as it occurred to her mind, it had to his. “With the Bond it’s not possible. If you should die, so shall I.”

  Mahri nodded. I love you, she thought.

  I know, he responded.

  Arrogant man.

  Korl lowered his head and kissed her nose. You know my thoughts, now, water-rat. Know I can’t live without you. But if you wish… And when he spoke, he used words as if he were a guard taking sword-oath to his king.

  “Mahri Zin—now Com’nder, know that without the Bond, you are the other half of my soul, and without you I’m incomplete. My heart has always been and will always be yours, and for that alone, I couldn’t live without you.”

  Tears burned at the back of her lids and she blinked them away. I know, she thought at him. A little of his own arrogance would never hurt. He had an ego big enough for a narwhal to swim in, as she’d always suspected, but knew now for certain.

  You don’t have to be tough with me.

  Mahri’s hands played through the mounds of petals on the bed as she answered aloud, “Aya, I do,” and wondered if she’d ever get used to this new mental form of communication. Vocalizing her words came more naturally to her and it felt more satisfying to spit them out of her mouth, rather than her head. Her roving fingers fetched up a torn piece of her clothing buried in soft petals and she seized upon it.

  “You’ve got to stop doing that,” she told him, waving the ragged scales before his face.

  He tossed back his head, shook the hair from his face in a blatantly masculine, self-satisfied manner. “I can afford to rip the clothes from your body every night for the rest of our lives.”

  Did he think to arouse her with that promising threat? Surely he knew he already had her with that shake of his head. And then she wondered how much those moments of shared thought revealed. The mind held layer upon layer, some thoughts so deep they were near unreachable. She could read the thoughts he directed at her but she’d have to probe with the Power to delve deeper.

  “It’s a good thing that we can’t know everything about each other.”

  “Mmm,” murmured Korl, absorbed in covering her naked body with flower petals. “Time will reveal the rest of your faults to me soon enough.”

  Mahri scowled and she opened her mouth to curse when she looked into his amused gaze and Saw herself mirrored there.

  You’re so easy to arouse, he thought at her with contented satisfaction. Life with you will never be dull.

  Her eyes widened at what she’d seen in his mind. If Korl saw any faults in her they were so overwhelmed by his belief of her perfection that they scarce existed. She wondered if they’d always See each other this way.

  Of course. Now lay still woman, I forbid you to move unless I command it.

  And Mahri obeyed, if only because it felt so good as he slowly removed each petal that he’d covered her with. Korl unveiled her skin bit by bit, sometimes lifting a white blossom with shaking fingers, sometimes blowing them from her with a gentle puff of air from those full lips, and then licking away the whiteness with a wet heat that sent shivers through her.

  It took the king a very, very, long time to uncover her completely. And when he made love to her again it was such a gentle, prolonged sort of thing that Mahri didn’t even have the breath to scream. They fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, a tangle of arms and legs and wilted petals.

  “Jaja?” Mahri stared at her pet through slitted eyes. It was the middle of the night; she could hear the rain patter on the outside balcony and pound atop the sea tree’s massive leaves. Her body ached and tingled all over and she sought nothing but more sleep. She snuggled closer to the radiant heat of Korl’s body.

  I want to share, spirit-friend.

  “Huh? Ach, Jaja, just go away.”

  Here, taste.

  And Mahri felt something gooey stroked across her lips. She licked and woke up just a bit more. It was sweet and exceptionally good.

  See? Yummy stuff. Want more?

  Mahri moaned. She might be able to speak with her pet now but she’d never understand the odd quirks to that little mind. Had he gotten tired of gorging alone, or what? “I want to sleep,” she mumbled.

  Jaja let rip a loud burp. Okay. But you eat for two now, need extra foood. And he drew out that last word, like a fishing line over still waters.

  Her eyes flew open, all traces of sleep banished by her pet’s thoughts. “What do you mean, eating for two?”

  Her pet shrugged, his tail a fan of dark scales in the muted light of the twinkling globes. You. Prince. See well. But not as much as Jaja, hey?

  Mahri brushed hair away from her face and rubbed her eyelids. By-the-thirteen-moons! Had she and Korl really Sensed all life on Sea Forest, yet missed a tiny spark that she carried inside her? Could it possibly be true?

  Sure, sure. Go eat now?

  The king’s eyes flew open. “Is he telling you what I think he is?” They glowed with that brilliant pale-green, even without the sparkle of zabba.

  Mahri started at the sound of Korl’s deep voice. She hadn’t known he was awake, hadn’t enough zabba left in her system to See into his thoughts either, and surprised herself by feeling a twinge of regret for the lack.

  “Aya, I’m carrying your child,” answered Mahri, marveling that she even spoke such words. She had to think about this, it had happened so quickly. How could she adjust to another one to love, when she still wasn’t even used to Korl? Too many thoughts swirled through her tired self and when the king reached for zabba she stayed his hand, not wanting the chaos of his own mind as well.

  He acquiesced to that silent request, turned, and enfolded her in the warm comfort of his arms.

  “You think too much,” he told her again.

  “Aya.”

  “You will learn my definition of love,” he commanded, “and forget your own notions.”

  Mahri nestled her face into the curve of his neck and breathed in the musky scent of him. His was such a more simplified version that perhaps she should give it a try. Just hold the joy of love in her heart and share it with each other and everything else be cursed. Yes, she just might be able to do that.

  Go eat now? came Jaja’s impatient demand.

  Mahri sat up. “I think I am kind of hungry.”

  Jaja clapped his hands and scurried through the open door. He was joined by two other monk-fish, the ones that the blackrobe had forced to his dark purpose. Now that S’raya’s boyfriend was dead they seemed to have completely recovered from the twisted way he’d used them, jumping and bouncing in play as they followed Jaja. Still, they reminded Mahri of the dangers that lurked in this elegant palace. And of how much the king, and now their child, needed her.

  Korl threw back his head and laughed, rose from the bed and tossed her a shirt from a chest. His body shimmered like pale gold in the light, all curves and planes and hard ridges. He laid back down and Mahri fought the urge to join him. She had all kinds of hungers.

  And now, all kinds of ties. The thought snuck into her like a guilty thief and she couldn’t help the feeling of entrapment that followed. Yet surely, Korl understood her, more than
anyone else ever could. Their minds had met and he knew what she needed. Would a child change all of that?

  “I’ll be back,” she promised him, making more of the words than they seemed.

  His deep voice answered solemnly. “I know.”

  She froze, her hand on the edge of the door. Did he understand her aright? Did he know that she spoke of more than just this moment, that her soul demanded freedom as much as his demanded complete union? Mahri thought of zabba, then shook her head. The words must be spoken aloud.

  “Sometimes,” she whispered, “I’ll need to return to the swamps.”

  “I know.”

  “With… with my child.” Mahri held her breath. Would he allow the little one’s freedom also?

  “With our child,” he corrected her.

  Mahri’s heart soared with joy. But of course, there was never any compromising with Korl, she knew that. It was all or nothing. And she had it all. Her stomach rumbled and she skipped from the room, seeking Jaja, and almost didn’t hear his next words.

  “You’ll always come back to me, Mahri Com’nder. And I’ll always leave a light burning in the window for you.”

  Acknowledgments

  A special thank you to my agent, Christine Witthohn, whose efforts will allow this book to reach a wider audience.

  About the Author

  Kathryne Kennedy is a multipublished, award-winning author of magical romances. She’s lived in Guam, Okinawa, and several states in the U.S., and currently lives in Arizona with her wonderful family—which includes two very tiny Chihuahuas. She welcomes readers to visit her website where she has ongoing contests at: www.KathryneKennedy.com.