Beneath the Thirteen Moons by Kathryne Kennedy Read Free Book Online

against her ear. “Nor I, you.”
    “But we need each other,” he continued. “Even if you’re telling the truth, S’raya will take advantage of my absence. She’s enlisted a Master Seer—I felt his filthyTouch from that warrior’s ship—and she’d be stupid if she didn’t try to make her move now.”
    “Mmhhm,” agreed Mahri, not knowing what he spoke of, not particularly caring as long as he continued to hold her and this feeling that shivered through her went on.
    “I don’t suppose,” he mused, “That you’d return me to the city—get another Healer?”
    She went rigid in his arms.
    He sighed. “I didn’t think so.” He took the few careful steps over to the narwhal tent and gently laid her in it. Their eyes met, pale to dark, and his hands lingered on hers. “I know I’m right about one thing—you are a Master, aren’t you?”
    Mahri shrugged.
    “Why don’t you heal your own people?”
    She bit her lip then sighed. “All the Power, all the zabba, but none of the knowledge.”
    “Of course,” he replied, all arrogance. “A Wilding! Amazing though, that the Seer Tree Masters haven’t captured, er, discovered you before this.”
    She feebly pushed his hands off her own. “Yes, amazing isn’t it?”
    And how long, she wondered, is it going to take you to realize that I can’t ever bring you home? That I could never trust you enough? Even if you didn’t remember the location of the village, you could still describe me to them, a Wilding with non-Royal blood that can tolerate the root to a Master level. They’d hunt me down and kill me, for not only must they control the supply of root but those who can use it as well.
    Then an alien voice sounded in Mahri’s mind,something about the Prince of Changes… that he must rule and she had to help make that happen. Stop it, she told herself. It was only a dream.
    Korl rose to his feet, fished some of her zabbaroot from her pouch that still lay down his hip. “The quicker we get to your village, the quicker I can heal your people and return to the Palace Tree, right?”
    She nodded up at him again, watched in fascination as the tiny curls at the corners of his mouth fleshed out into a full smile. A shallow cleft appeared in his cheek, his nose tilted up even more, and small wrinkles radiated from the corners of his eyes. When would she stop noticing every little detail about him?
    “I can help Heal you again,” he said, popping a small piece of root into his mouth. He hesitated a moment. “Or I can hurt you even more, force you to tell me the way out of this maze of a swamp, back to the city.”
    Mahri felt her heart stop. A skilled Healer could inflict creative types of pain, with little damage to their victim. But only a Dark Seer would dare such a thing, and she’d thought—no she knew he wasn’t of that ilk. Besides, she’d endure whatever it took to save what was left of her family from the agonies of the plague. Again, she really had no choice.
    “Hurt me,” she said, her gaze locked on his, challenging him to do it. His eyes flashed with sparks of Power and a quick rage. He leaned over her and she couldn’t be sure what he intended to do, yet still when he ran his hands over her body she responded, arching her back towards him, groaning at the shafts of pain that resulted from the movement. The anger faded from his face to be replaced with that indefinable something that existed between them.
    And the pain ceased, to be replaced with the warmth of his touch. His large hands moved up her abdomen, across her ribs, slowly inched higher with the definite absence of a Healer’s dispassionate touch. A moan rose from the back of her throat. She thrust her breasts at him when she felt the warmth of his hands cover them and heard him gasp in response.
    His fingers trembled up to her neck. He traced the strong curve of her jaw and the sweep of her nose then plunged his hands into her hair, jerking her face up to meet his. This time when