Beneath the Thirteen Moons by Kathryne Kennedy Read Free Book Online Page A

their lips met, it wasn’t a slow, gentle touch. Hot, soft flesh met her own with a fierceness that left her weak, aware that she’d wanted to taste him in this way, but unable to match his strength. The root, and his touch, combined to sap what remaining stamina she had.
    And he did hurt her. His mouth ground into hers with numbing force, his tongue plunged into her mouth again and again. Mahri tried to respond, frustrated that she couldn’t, for she wanted to hurt him back. It felt incredibly good.
    Korl let her go so abruptly that her head snapped backwards. She would’ve taught him a new dockside curse but for the look on his face. A drowning man coming up for air. He sat back on his heels, let that mask of arrogance he constantly adopted fall back over his features.
    “That shouldn’t have happened,” he said, avoiding her gaze. Korl rose to his feet, hands fisted at his sides. “And won’t again—I promise.”
    Is that right? wondered Mahri. The High Born Prince shouldn’t have lowered himself to kiss a filthy water-rat? As if it weren’t already hard enough to resist him,now he’d thrown a challenge like that at her! As her body gave in to exhaustion, she vowed to see how easy it would be to break the promise of a prince.

Chapter 4
    M AHRI BECAME AWARE OF K ORL’S WHISTLED TUNE and pretended to continue sleeping just so he wouldn’t stop. She’d never heard such a melody before, the rise and fall totally unlike a dockside chanty, the low tones of it making her shiver. The soft splash of his paddling blended with the rhythm of it, and although she felt the urgency of her task she hurt all over, and didn’t open her eyes until she felt a soft brush against her cheek.
    She blinked when another gentle something fell across her brow, attempted to flick it away but her muscles were still too weak. Mahri lay still while clouds of white petals rained from the branches above, covering her with a blanket of soft perfume.
    The whistling stopped. “What kind of flowers are those?” asked Korl.
    “How should I know,” replied Mahri. “I’ve never seen anything like them before.”
    She studied the vines overhead, the way they twisted and snaked from one tree to another, creating a tunnel out of the channel they drifted through. Thousands of large buds hung from every lavender vine, pulsing out balls of pure white which exploded into flowers that dropped their petals before they could hit the surface of the water.
    The faded sunshine that filtered through the branches told Mahri that she’d slept most of the day, and sincethe flowers didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat she concentrated instead on just standing up.
    “Jaja,” she muttered. The little monk-fish scampered to her side, batting at the petals with obvious delight. “Root,” she told him. He splayed his empty webbed hands in front of her face.
    Mahri frowned. “What d’you mean, you can’t find any?”
    Jaja spun and pointed an accusing finger at the prince.
    She looked at him and he raised an eyebrow. “You’re not getting anymore,” he said, and patted the bulging pouch that still hung at his hip. “I’ll get us to the village, you just show me the way.”
    “Nobody gives me orders,” snapped Mahri, and with a surge of anger managed to lift her upper body off the deck, tumbling a pile of whiteness into her lap.
    Korl regarded her as if she were some rude courtier. “I just gave you a command and expect you to follow it. If you won’t respect that coming from your prince, then consider it advice from your Healer.”
    “I don’t need your advice. I don’t need anyone telling me what to do.”
    He laid down the paddle and crossed his arms over his chest, catching petals of white in their crook. “Everyone’s got someone telling them what to do, even a prince. What makes you think you’re so special?”
    He’s patronizing me, thought Mahri, like I’m some kind of spoiled brat. And her anger at this man who’d grown up