By Vengeance Guided (The Lost Shrines Book 1) (13 page)

"Or not," he muttered. He flexed his hands, wanting to hold on, but he knew that wouldn't to do either of them any good.

He blew out a long breath of air. "Look, we all have secrets. I don't expect you to tell me anything you're not comfortable sharing. But you can't blame me for being curious."

He tried to keep himself as still as possible while she looked him over, weighing his sincerity.

"No. I suppose I can't blame you for that." Then she flashed an impish smile. "What secrets are you keeping?"

Cold and warmth battled in his blood and he considered coming clean. Telling her everything about who he was and why he was really there. But he had a responsibility to Daen. He'd made a promise, and he had no facts, yet, only his gut feeling. One deeply influenced by growing attraction and affection.

Instead, he flashed a grin. "If I told you, they wouldn't be secrets, now would they?"

She smiled back and relief eased the tight knot in him. "No, I suppose not."

He stepped into her space again, reaching out to sink his hand into the wild, silky curls.

"You know, I was right, before. We can't go on like this. You're exhausted, stressed and hurting. So am I. You need to be at your best if you're going to take Gui on."

She didn't pull away, but her face pinched and her eyes glanced to the side to see who was watching them. "I know. But he has half of them convinced I need a guiding hand. I don't want them to transfer their loyalty and expectations to you. I can't lean on you in front of them."

The twinge of rejection was unexpected. He wanted to help, wanted to protect her. Her strength and stubbornness, though, were who Lia was. He had to respect that and do everything possible to support her without stepping on her toes.

"So lean on me behind closed doors. I'll come to your room tonight. Trust me. I can be sneaky when I need to be." His enhanced sense meant he'd hear anyone who
could
catch him long before they
did
.

"I… don't… know…" Her words were hesitant but a flare of heat and want lit her eyes.

He stroked the strands of hair in his fingers. "You're the Lady. You're in charge. Only what you want."

"Right." Her lips pressed tight then curled into a smile full of knowledge and hunger that inflamed his own need until it nearly swallowed him whole. "Fine. Tonight. Try not to let the entire manor see you coming."

-7-

She reached for the heavier knitted robe hanging in her wardrobe and pulled it on. As soon as she wrapped it around her, she removed the lumpy garment with a frustrated tug. Again. Indecision had been her constant companion since she'd retired to her room after dinner.

Despite what they'd said, Lia had no doubt she and Wyn would be having sex. The heat, the connection, the need flaring behind them could not be ignored. Not for an entire night alone together in a room with a bed.

She hung up the robe again and smoothed it out. Nerves made her hands shake. It was ridiculous to be nervous, considering they'd already made love. But spontaneous passion in the midst of a magic Circle was one thing. Deliberately inviting the sexy, secretive man to her room was something completely different.

Yet, despite the nerves, she wanted this. Her body thrummed in anticipation, her skin prickled with goose bumps and her hearted pounded every time she thought about getting her hands on him again. Inviting his hands onto her.

A soft knock made her jump and she grabbed the robe. She left it hanging loose, though, when she opened the door.

Wyn smiled down at her and Lia's throat constricted. Her mind refused to work. She blurted out words without thinking them through.

"Did anyone see you?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No. You might want to let me in before someone catches me hanging around your door though."

"Right. Yes, of course." Her cheeks warmed and she stepped to the side.

Just the brush of his shoulder against hers when he walked in sent a shiver through her. Lia took several deep breaths and closed the door before turning to face him.

Wyn, however, still had his back to Lia. He glanced between the huge carved bed and the delicate looking chairs clustered near the fireplace, weighing his options. Somehow, his uncertainty eased her own.

Rolling her shoulders, she chuckled a little. "They're sturdier and more comfortable than they look."

He glanced at her doubtfully before sinking into the pink upholstery, then raised an eyebrow in surprise.

She sat down in the second chair across from Wyn and realized, for the first time, how close the furniture was situated. Awkward silence grew while they both studiously stared into the banked coals of the hearth.

"Thank you." She let the words slip out into the quiet between them. When he looked up at her with questioning eyes, her lips curled slightly.

"For understanding about my responsibility to my people. For…" Lia waved her hand in a futile gesture, unable to find the words. "Just for understanding."

Wyn's mouth twitched down into a frown and he stared at the soft shadows shifting on the floor.

"I understand responsibility better than you think. It's why I'm out here. Instead of home."

She shouldn't ask, not when they'd both agreed to keeping their secrets. But he looked so lost, she couldn't help herself.

"Why are you here? What are you hoping to find?"

"The man who murdered my parents." A mask of hard-edged anger took over his features and Lia leaned back a little at the abrupt change. Remembered the hint of darkness she’d touched in him and wondered if this was the cause of the cold resolve she'd felt.

"Oh." She had no idea what to say. What to ask. Whether she should speak at all.

But her soft breath pulled him back. The edges softened though anger and sadness remained in the lines and shadows.

"Will you tell me?"

She hadn't meant to ask, but Wyn’s shoulders eased, and he settled deeper into his chair. He didn't look at her when he spoke but she got the feeling he'd been holding the darkness at bay for a long time.

"It was my fault. I was young. Naïve. So cocky and sure I understood the ways of the world. My foster brothers were annoyed by it. My parents were amused." He crossed his arms across his chest and shook his head. "Irana came to our…home and asked to be apprenticed to my mother in the healing arts. My mother never turned anyone with a hint of the gift away."

Lia had a feeling she knew where this story was going. A dark, twisting string of jealousy spiked in her chest and swallowed hard against it.

"She was beautiful. Sweet. Seemed as innocent as I pretended not to be. We would walk in the moonlight. Whisper secrets and dreams. She wanted to be the greatest healer. Was sure that if she created a particular healing balm, she would become a Master Healer more quickly."

"You wanted to help her." Lia smiled to keep the envy out of her voice.

"It's an age old story, isn't it?" Wyn asked with a self-mocking lift of his eyebrow. "Yes. Of course, the flower she needed to make it work was far away, in a distant, dangerous place. She insisted I take my brothers with me. To protect me. Out of her profound and abiding love and concern for my well-being."

He spit the last of the words out, like a bitter spice. Then, he remained silent so long, Lia wondered if he'd decided not to tell her the rest. Eventually, though, he spoke, his voice rusty and soft and full of anguish.

"I was better than she anticipated. Smarter, faster and more motivated. I returned in half the time she expected. But I was still too late. I had left my parents alone with her, unsuspecting the viper in their midst. I had taken my brothers and left them unprotected."

His breath caught and his eyes squeezed tight for a moment. In the shadows, it was impossible to tell if there was moisture in them when they reopened.

"My parents were already dead when we returned. Irana had her hands on… She was stealing our oldest treasure. A treasure entire generations have sacrificed themselves to protect."

"She got away with it?"

"No."

His answer was swift and fierce, his grin manic and satisfied. "No, she died that day. The treasure is safe at home, guarded by people I trust."

Lia frowned, her forehead pulling tight. "I don't understand, if you stopped her, who are you looking for?"

"The sor— The man who sent her. Someone who's coveted what my family, and my people, have and will stop at nothing to get his hands on it. My people believe it ended with Irana's death. That I avenged my parents with her death.

"They're wrong. He's still out there, plotting and scheming. I vowed I would stop him."

Lia moved without thinking, kneeling in front of him, clasping his clenched fists between her hands.

"And you will not find peace until you avenge your parents. Until you've assured the safety of your family."

"No." His voice was hoarse and filled with sorrow. He leaned forward, letting his head rest against hers. "I feared I would never find peace again. For a little while, though, when we touch, I can forget. The moments are fleeting but enough."

Lia tilted her face, let her lips drift softly over his before she stood up. She tugged on the hands still clasped in hers and pulled him across the room toward the waiting bed.

*****

Later, much, much later, Wyn reached down and dragged the coverlet up over them both. Lia snuggled into his broad chest and sighed with pleasure when strong arms wrapped around her. Maybe he was right. Maybe she could have this. Have someone to lean on, when no one else was around. She could give him the same thing in return.

They'd have to work, though, to keep this a secret. The soft pang of regret faded into the darkness of sleep.

*****

The stars still sparkled in the dark sky when Caerwyn woke. If he had his choice, he'd curl closer and stay in Lia's bed until breakfast. Stake his claim. Make a declaration.

It wasn't up to him, though. Lia had her own set of troubles and responsibilities. Caer had to respect what she believed best for her and her valley.

So he forced himself to slide out of bed, stifling a groan when chill air met bare skin. Lia shifted restlessly when he moved but didn't wake. He tucked the blankets close around her and smoothed them carefully before kissing her hair one last time. Then he wrestled on his clothes and headed out into the hall.

Like he had on the trip to her room, Caerwyn kept his ears tuned to the night's sounds, kept his eyes scanning for the slightest movement. Most of the staff would be rising with the first hints of dawn, which gave him another hour at least. He wouldn't put it past Gui to have a spy or two lurking around in the dead of night, however.

Back in his room, he ignored his untouched bed. The idea of crawling into the cold blankets alone wasn't appealing in the least.

Instead, he had something he needed to do. He may have agreed not to poke too hard at Lia's secrets, but there was trouble in the valley. He refused to let anyone take another shot at his…at Lia.

Digging into his pack, he pulled out the small, dark innocuous-looking stone Maddyn had pressed into his palm before he'd left the Baron's stables to head for Lia's valley. Settling onto the floor, Caerwyn held the rock loosely in one hand. His breathing slowed, his mind empty and the flow of power, the lines of magic around him came into stark focus.

He gasped, almost losing his concentration. The lines of magic flourished thick and plentiful. Like they were on his islands. Nearly as plentiful as on the Isle of the Goddess. Another deep inhale and Caerwyn forced himself to settle. He tapped into the lines, channeled the zing of energy into his hand and the rock that rested there.

Eventually, the black rock grew brighter and brighter from the infusion of magic until the edges glowed red. When the stone vibrated around in his hand, he knew the matching stone Maddyn carried was alerting his brother that Caerwyn needed him.

When the rock stilled and faded to dull black, he got up, stretched, then dropped the rock into his bag, confident his brothers knew what to do. Now Caer had to figure out how to get the answers he needed without giving his own secrets away.

A couple of hours later, cleaned up and in fresh clothes, Caerwyn tried to dim his smile when he ambled toward the breakfast table. The cheerful grin that kept threatening to burst forth would get him odd looks after the events the day before.

Lia was already at the table and deep in conversation with her chatelaine. Her eyes flickered toward him when he walked in but she immediately turned back to her discussion. Wyn swallowed down his frustration. He'd known she wouldn't, couldn't, embrace him. He'd hoped for a smile, though. Maybe even a greeting.

Instead, they were back to the polite strangers and cold distance they'd started the day before with. At least it took care of the ridiculous urge to grin like a fool. Now battling a fierce frown, he grabbed a plate and helped himself to the array of foods the cook had laid out for the residents of the manor house.