Khari'na Made (Muse Book 1)

by Jean Winter

  “Do no' try to downplay it,” Kade said, edging warily back. “When I picture what he did and how horrific that must have been for—”

  “No. It wasn't as bad as you think.”

  “Lyra, he hurt you!” Kade snapped. “In ways I canno' bear to imagine.” Emotion was affecting his voice and Lyra's face had turned blurry. “Bloody moons! Why do you always have to be such a m—?”

  “Kade.”

  The calm utterance of his name—his first name—stopped Kade short.

  “Say that again,” he whispered.

  Lyra let loose a small laugh. “Kade.” And she looked nearly as happy to say it as he was to hear it. It was like music. “My love,” Lyra told him, placing tender hands on either side of his jaw, “he did not do to me all that you think he did.” The sensation of her loving touch spreading through his entire being like a current.

  “But, I saw him on you. He said he—”

  “What he said was a figment of his imagination. Before he could get too far I fought back and knocked him clean out. Then, I healed him, gave myself a couple convincing injuries, and waited for him to wake up. He was so drunk, he didn't remember what happened—only that he felt really good.”

  Could it be?

  “Really?”

  Her lips spread into a wry smile. “I had to do it twice, actually, but the third time he woke up, well, let's just say, you saved the day.”

  Kade threw his arms around her with an untold joy. “My brilliant, brave, beautiful Lyra!” he exulted, and the tears building in the corners of his eyes finally escaped. The weeks of worry, regret, restraint, and concern could begin to melt away.

  “I really am fine,” she giggled softly in his ear. “I mean, I'm angry you decided to keep your distance for this long. You were driving me insane. I couldn't figure out why you didn't want to see me, but,” Kade suddenly heard an emotional sniff, “there is no one else on Geniven I would rather be with tonight, right now, than you.”

  Kade pulled away. “Are you sure? Are you sure you want me to stay?”

  The wetness on his cheek was softly dried, and, smiling, Lyra began to lead him across the room. “Would you like to see how sure I am?”

  Before Kade could even begin to think what in the world she meant, Lyra halted him before the room's patio door and threw it open.

  Scattered about the moonlit garden were hundreds of candles in clear glass sconces, glowing in brilliant display—in the beds, bordering the pathways, across the top of the wall, even lining the outside of the shed where he had found her in the depths of despair. Each one was a deep, crimson red.

  Kade's jaw dropped.

  On the nearby patio table was a bottle of summer wine, two glasses, and a handwritten note. Kade went and picked it up.

  I doubt the bubbly will be needed to spur things along, but thought I would offer it anyway as a token of my relief. You finally cracked Lovely's obstinate shell!

  Do not blow it.

  Sal

  With a grin, Kade let the stationary fall back to the table. Sal was right, he wouldn't be needing it at all.

  “Kadent Allegron Domisev J'Kor,” he heard from the door, a crooked grin teasing at Lyra's mouth and her lean upon the door's frame a definite, definite invitation. “I am sooo ready to spend the night with you.”

  Wow …

  Returning to her, Kade knelt and took her hands in his. “My lady, I am yours to command. What do you desire?”

  She bent over to gaze into his eyes, and whispered back, “Just you.”

  Then a finger was drawing a line down his face in their special symbol of love and respect.

  That did it.

  Fully and without reserve, Kade took her to him. Pressing his lips over hers, his senses commenced a journey of wondrous, felicitous discovery. Her cheeks. Her shoulders. Her abdomen …

  His head began to swim when he sensed her responding to his touch with undeniable enthusiasm. Slender fingers searched across his front, undoing buttons. She leaned into his kiss, hungry, and a heated pleasure raced up his spine. He started to push her robe off her shoulders. No, she was working the shirt off his shoulders. No. It was both. The moment of clarity helped Kade remember to slow down a bit. This really was absolutely new territory here and he wanted to make sure she was ready for him to proceed.

  But Lyra's hands moving to her belt to untie the knot for him was incontestable assurance. The robe slipped to the floor and Lyra shifted closer, encircling his neck with her arms.

  “Wait … wait,” he whispered breathless.

  “What?” she murmured.

  Kade stood, pulling her up with him, and by candlelight, he took a moment to simply bask in the physical beauty of the woman before him—a woman bearing the subtle signs of maturity, childbearing, and leaving the bloom of her youth behind. Not quite as firm in places as she used to be. Not quite as buoyant. Kade moved around her. Then there was her back—

  “Kade,” Lyra mumbled, suddenly quite self-conscious, “they really don't hurt anymore.”

  He only smiled at her sudden shyness. “Sugarpip, I am just enjoying getting to know every inch o' you.” And he held the thunderous yearning at bay a little longer.

  A gentle stroke of the scars at her ribs—the shift in texture over the healing flesh—told him Martee was wrong. There would be more than a few of these always there to tell a story. Then his fingers brushed over the small number sequence tattooed over her tailbone. They were a permanent reminder of the game of life and death she was being forced to play. Finally, Kade bent to kiss the scarred bump of her softly glowing implant at the base of her neck. This was what had brought her to him, and—despite its harrowing significance—this was the object responsible for his present great happiness.

  You must protect her.

  The returning impression was etched permanently upon his heart now, and he would do so to his last breath, laying down his own life if necessary. She was that special. That important. Lyra's god had made her for a special purpose, and Kade, it seemed, was appointed to be her personal guard.

  Except tonight—

  Kade reached arms to her front, enfolding her in a loving embrace. Tonight he could just be her husband.

  “Do you want to know what I see?” he said, tickling her ear with his breath. “I see the woman I love—my wife.” His lips slid down to nuzzle the side of her neck. “I see … perfection.”

  Lyra turned in his embrace, gazing up at him, glowing and luminous.

  Then she suddenly kissed him with a fierceness that caught Kade off guard. His nerves lit on fire. Her curves and contours entreated for attention and Kade lifted her to lay on the bed. The way she urgently pressed herself into him when he joined her made Kade wildly, deliriously happy.

  Just this afternoon he had come, resigned to picking up a broken, traumatized woman who was going to need weeks and perhaps even months of utter platonic, carefully applied friendship before she would be ready for any touch of affection at all. He never anticipated that by night's end he would be privileged to this delightfully live and welcoming thing, instead.

  Kade took in once more the vision of his new bride in the romantic, soft light. The faith and trust she was placing in him was staggering, and humbling, and Kade forced his ragged breath to steady. Forced his eagerness into reserve. Err on the side of caution. She really had been through so much.

  “Lyra, I just want to assure you,” he whispered, “that I will be gentle.”

  Lyra's grinning response sent a titillating tingle through every cell of his body.

  “Yeah,” she said, pulling his head back to hers, “me too.”

  # # #

  The delicate song of a chipperkall welcomed the morning light trickling in, drowning out the dying candles' illumination. Lyra opened her lids to clothing strewn about the room and the warmth of a firm body lying close. A caress to the side of her face made her turn and she was met with the sight of honey-brown, sleep tossed hair, crinkling gray eyes, and a smile t
o die for.

  “Good morrow, Mrs. J'Kor.”

  Head propped on an elbow, he gazed quietly down upon her. For how long he had already been watching her, she did not know.

  Lyra grinned back, taking a moment for a blissful yawn and stretch. “So we really did get married yesterday? That wasn't just a dream?”

  “Aye.”

  She slid closer. “Good. Because if that didn't happen,” a short giggle escaped, “I am in real trouble.”

  “Aye,” he chuckled softly. “Big trouble.”

  Snuggling into his chest, Lyra recalled his kisses, his caresses, his wondrous attentiveness from the glorious night of lovemaking. It was uncanny how he had read her desires and wants so completely. The man had been generous almost to a fault, and the mere memory of certain moments caused a luscious jolt of pleasure to trill through her.

  Her husband lay an arm across her, rubbing her back while Lyra happily breathed in the heat of his skin and their mingled scents. Warm lips gave a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Sooo, are all Believer women that 'aggressive' on their wedding nights?”

  Her laugh revealed a small measure of embarrassment. “Well, I had a lot of pent up emotion and tension to release. Sorry.” And now her hand slid down to his hip, teasing back. “Did I surprise you?”

  “Oh, the surprise was o' a most pleasant nature, I assure you.” Then Kade suddenly rolled her to her back, positioning himself over her. “Flexibility, indeed!” he said with an utterly scampish grin, and Lyra almost blushed. Loving fingers stroked through her mussed locks. “That was the most amazing night o' my life, Sugarpip,” he told her.

  “Good,” she said, bringing his head close for a kiss. She fully intended to let that kiss lead to other things one more time before they were forced to acknowledge the oncoming day, but he hesitated.

  “I … suppose your Jon knew how to please you much better, but I hope that you—”

  “Wait. Stop,” she told him, putting a finger to his lips. “I do not want you spending one minutia of a second worrying over that.” The corners of Lyra's mouth turned upward and her finger made a mischievous trail past his chin, down his neck. “Being with you was—and I mean this in the very best possible way—like the first time all over again.”

  His pleased grin made her laugh and she pushed him off, rolling him over so she could take the top. “And do you want to know what else?” Lyra gazed deeply into the strength and intelligence of his eyes.

  “What?” Hands began to wander down her spine, sending new tingles up it.

  Lyra started some teasing kisses. “There are precisely … three hundred and forty-five passion candles still burning out in the garden … and you, my love … have earned the right to blow out each … and every … one.” She lingered over the last.

  Kade chuckled, surprised. “Are you really going to make me blow out each one?”

  “Well, if your aging lungs can't quite hand—”

  With a laugh he took her again, and both joyfully jumped in to disregarding the encroaching daylight and whatever else they probably should be getting up for. Unfortunately, they could not so easily disregard the sudden, light rap at the door, nor Martee's apologetic voice explaining her order from Lady J'Kor to pass on a note that had arrived for Lord J'Kor.

  But they tried.

  In between furtive kisses, Kade told Martee to just slide it under the door and he would get to it “shortly.” Then he playfully flung the covers over his and his new lover's heads, effectively concealing them from the seeking rays of dawn's insistent sun. Lyra laughed. Her soul positively sang with joy. She clung contentedly to her husband.

  “My lord, I am at your command.”

  “No, my Lyra,” he breathed, “I am at yours.”

  From the bed, Lyra lay watching her Kade scratch contentedly at his scalp while he bent to pick up the folded paper Martee had left peeking out from under the door. It was approaching late morning now and, much to their mutual reluctance, it was time to get on to those other things. With a yawn, he broke the seal at the fold and mumbled something about wishing he had his glasses. Lyra grinned.

  The grin faded with her husband's swiftly paling face during his silent read of the short paragraph typed on official stationary from Caldreen National Military Headquarters.

  # # #