Beneath a Midnight Moon

Kylene spent a long and sleepless night waiting for Hardane to return.

Sitting on the window seat staring into the darkness, she heard the far-off cry of a wolf. She knew instinctively that it was Hardane, that he was giving voice to his anger and frustration, to the agony her words had caused him.

Later, she heard other cries rise to meld with the first. Surprisingly, she could distinguish Hardane's cry from those of the other wolves.

The real wolves.

The wild wolves.

Hardane was a wolf, but not a wolf.

He was a man, but not a man like any other.

Could she live with him, knowing that?

Could she live without him?

If only he hadn't left her, if only he'd let her explain. And yet, what could she have said? She'd been appalled by what Lord Kray had told her, shocked to learn that the wolf form was not merely a shape he could assume at will but an inherent part of him.

If only he'd told her the truth sooner . . .

She shook her head ruefully. It would still have come as a shock and she probably would have reacted just as she had-with fear and revulsion.

Tears burned her eyes as she thought of how she had hurt him. He had never treated her with anything but tenderness and kindness, and how had she repaid him? By acting as if he were some sort of monster, unworthy of her trust, her love.

If only he would come home. If only he would give her another chance.

She sat at the window the rest of the night, watching the stars fade from the heavens, watching the sky brighten as night turned to day.

And still he did not come.

Burying her head in her arms, she closed her eyes and wept tears of regret and bitter self-recrimination.

A knock at the door roused Kylene from a troubled sleep. She mumbled permission to enter, and Hadj swept into the room, a covered tray in her hands.

"I've brought breakfast, my lady," Hadj said. She glanced around the room, obviously wondering at Hardane's absence.

"Did Lord Hardane request it?"

"No, my lady, I thought he was here . . ." Hadj's voice trailed off.

Kylene felt a blush climb into her cheeks. It was the morning after her wedding and she didn't even know where her husband was.

"Take the tray away," she said, not meeting the serving girl's eyes.

"Yes, my lady. Shall I draw your bath?"

Kylene nodded; then, swallowing her pride, she said, "Hadj, have you seen Lord Hardane this morning?"

"No, my lady."

Kylene bit down on her lip, wondering where he'd gone. There was to be a celebration tonight, a feast to honor their marriage. Surely he'd be there!

She spent the morning in her room, alternately pacing the floor and staring out the window.

Where was he?

Sharilyn knocked at the door later that afternoon to ask if anything was amiss. Kylene shook her head, and then dissolved into tears. In minutes, Sharilyn had heard the whole story.

"It was wrong of him not to tell you," Sharilyn remarked. "Does it change how you feel about him?"

"I don't know." Kylene averted her eyes, unable to meet her mother-in-law's probing gaze.

"In the old time, the Wolffan assumed the wolf form more often than the human form," Sharilyn said quietly. "There's a freedom to be found in the shape of the wolf that can be found nowhere else. I know not how to explain it better than that.

"In those days, sorcery and witchcraft were strong in the land, and many believed that evil wizards took on the shape of wolves. Ordinary men cannot discern between feral wolves and the Wolffan, and my people soon realized that it would be wiser, and safer, to remain in human form.

"In time, our ability to take on the shape of the wolf faded from the memory of the people and it became a fable, told to scare little children into behaving lest they be gobbled up by the Wolffan. Now, only a few know the truth."

"I hear your words," Kylene replied slowly. "I know that Hardane has the power to change shape. I've seen him do it, and still it's hard for me to believe that he's both man and wolf, that it isn't just a shape he assumes."

"It is a truth few people can accept. That is why only a few of our people have ever married outside the Wolffan clan."

"Then why was Hardane betrothed to a princess of Mouldour?"

"Because it was prophesied that such an alliance was the only way to bring a lasting peace to Argone and Mouldour."

Kylene nodded. She understood what Sharilyn was saying. Marriage had often been a way to forge a lasting peace between warring nations.

"Did Hardane say when he would be back?" Sharilyn asked.

"No. He left last night and hasn't returned."

"I see."

"Do you . . . do you know where he's gone?"

"No, but I'm sure he'll return soon. He loves you, daughter, you can be certain of that if nothing else."

Hardane didn't return that night. The celebration took place as planned, with Sharilyn and Lord Kray explaining that Kylene had not yet recovered from the ordeal in the Temple of Fire and that Hardane was comforting her.

In her room, Kylene stood at the window staring down into the garden below, wondering when Hardane would return. He had to come back, she told herself over and over again. After all, this was his home.

But the hours passed and still he did not return.