Midnight Whispers - Paranormal Romance (11 page)

“How awful.”
Kyra placed a hand on her aunt’s shoulder. “Both boys? They couldn’t have been
any older than me. Judy is going to be devastated. How will they be able to
manage the farm?” The Bennets were not well-off, and could not afford to hire
extra help for the harvest. With only Mary, the youngest, left behind, they
were going to have a very hard time indeed.

“I don’t
know, but I am going to offer what help I can. I came home to gather a basket
to bring to them; I am going to offer Judy my sympathies. We are good friends,
and the Bennet boys used to come and help me with my own plowing.”

“I’ll go with
you.”

They packed a
loaf of bread and several jars of preserves, and set off. It took them much
longer than Kyra had expected to reach the Bennet house—her aunt lagged,
and they had to stop and rest often. Kyra noticed that some of the paleness in
her aunt’s face wasn’t simply from the shock of recent death, but from fatigue
as well, and she worried. Her aunt was not a young woman; perhaps they should
have taken one of the horses, but it was not a very long walk, and since her
aunt hadn’t made the suggestion Kyra hadn’t thought of it.

When they
reached the Bennet house, Kent Bennet opened the door, looking scruffy, his
eyes red-rimmed. His voice was gruff as he greeted them and invited them into
the house, where Judy sat at the kitchen table, her face pasty pale, her eyes
puffy red clouds. Kyra stopped short as she saw Jake sitting there next to her,
solemn and sturdy as he offered Judy encouragement.

“Oh Judy,”
Sylvia cried, rushing to take her friend in her arms. “I’m so sorry to hear
about your boys.”

As the two
women grieved, Kyra turned to Jake, puzzled. “What are you doing here?”

“Chris and
Taylor were good friends of mine,” Jake said softly, his blue eyes clouded with
sadness. “And I was the one who found them.”

“I’m so sorry
to hear that,” Kyra said, dropping into the chair next to him. “What happened?”

Jake shook
his head. “I didn’t see what went on, but when I was walking in the woods this
morning I came upon their bodies. I don’t know what got ‘em—they’re heads
were smashed up real good, and they had some claw marks on ‘em, like a wild
animal had gone after them. Maybe a bear.” He sighed. “A terrible way for them
to go.”

The two women
rejoined them at the table once Judy had stopped crying. “What can we do for
you, Judy?” Sylvia asked. “If there is any way I can help you to get through
this—”

Judy shook
her head.  “It’s very kind of you to offer, but I know you have enough
going on yourself, Sylvia. Jake and his brothers have already agreed to help me
with the harvest, and my husband and his friends are taking care of the
funeral.”

Sylvia turned
to Jake. “That’s a very fine thing for you to do, Jake.”

He shook his
head. “It’s the least I can do, especially since…” he shook his head.

“Since what?”
Kyra asked, frowning.

“Never mind.”
Jake flashed a shadow of his trademark grin. “Just rambling, I suppose. But
it’s no big thing.”

“Even so,
I’ll be coming by to check on you, Jue,” Sylvia said, patting her arm.

“I appreciate
that.” Judy sniffed. “It’s only been a few hours since I learned, and it’s
already difficult.”

“I know,
honey. Losing loved ones is never easy.”

****

Sylvia
insisted on staying to help with the funeral arrangements, and so Kyra walked
home alone to finish up the chores. There wasn’t very much to do, so afterward
she made her way to the forest and back through the maze, her thoughts pensive
as she dwelled on matters of life and death. Judy’s grief had hit far too close
to her own, resurfacing a pain she now felt guilty about not thinking about
these past few days. Ever since Bryce and this whole mating thing had come into
her life she’d hardly given a though to her deceased parents, and she was
ashamed. Did life move so quickly that the dead were this easily forgotten?
When she died, would her memory pass with such swiftness from the hearts of her
loved ones?

No
,
she told herself with a shake of her head. That wasn’t fair to say. She hadn’t
forgotten about her parents completely. She had been distracted; too
preoccupied by the people in her life to dwell on the hole in her heart left by
their deaths, but it was still there. It throbbed now, aching for something,
anything to fill it.

When she
exited the maze, it was to find the entire village cloaked in an air of grief
and melancholy that only sharpened the edges of her own grief. The villagers
were solemn, and while a few flashed glances of hatred her way, most seemed to
be in another place. They were all dressed in black, which told Kyra one
thing—the shifters had just gone through a funeral of their own.

She found
Bryce as he was emerging from an unfamiliar house, also solemn and dressed in
black. He tried for a smile when he saw her, but it was clear to her that his
heart wasn’t really in it, which was fine by her—she didn’t have the
energy for a smile either.

“What
happened?” she asked, closing the distance between them.

“The man
whose wife had lost her child during the attack died yesterday,” Bryce said
quietly, leading her off the streets and into his cabin. “We buried her today.
Ian, her husband, has been inconsolable, but I had to leave him when I sensed
that you were here.”

Kyra stared
at him as he closed the door behind them. “You shouldn’t have left him for my
sake. I would have been fine going back home by myself.”

Bryce shook
his head. “I didn’t want to leave you wandering the village by yourself without
my protection. Besides, he has other clan members with him for support.” He
took her gently by the shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “You
look like something is troubling you.”

Kyra looked
down. “It just… this is a dark day,” she said quietly. “One of my aunt’s
friends just lost both of her sons. They were killed by some kind of animal.
Seeing their mother today, so struck by grief, made me think about my own
loss.” She swiped at her eyes fiercely. “I know I should be grateful I’m alive,
but I feel so ashamed when I realize that I’m so busy I forget to think about
my parents. I look around at these people so wrapped up in the grief of losing
their own family members, and feel awful that I am not also the same way. I feel
like I should be suffering too; perhaps that I should have died as well. It
doesn’t seem fair that I survived and my parents didn’t.”

“Hush.” Bryce
drew her against his chest. “I’m sure your parents are grateful you are still
amongst the living, and they wouldn’t want you to have died with them. I know
what you mean, and it took me a long time to realize that just because my loved
ones have passed, it doesn’t mean that I cannot continue to live my life. They
have moved on, to whatever place it is that we go after we die. It is only
natural that we move on too, and it isn’t disrespectful to them.”

Kyra wrapped
her arms around him and held tight, soaking in the warmth and comfort he
offered. “What you say makes sense to my head, but my heart is struggling to
accept it.”

Bryce stroked
the top of her head, and then released her. “Come, and let me show you
something.”

He led her to
his bedroom and knelt down in front of a small wooden table pressed into a
corner of the room. On top of it stood a tallow candle, and next to it a knife
with a carved wooden handle and a jade pendant.

“This is my
memorial shrine to my parents,” he told her.

As Kyra knelt
down beside him, he picked up the pendant and held it up for her to see there
was a wolf etched into the flat surface, sitting back on its haunches with its
head tilted up so it could howl to the night sky. “Belonged to my
mother—she wore it every day of her life. And this knife was my father’s;
he never went hunting without it. When I feel the need to be close to them, I
come here, light the candle, and just talk to them. I don’t know whether or not
it works, if they really hear what I am saying, but sometimes I feel like they
are here, like they are actually sitting next to me when I talk to them. It
comforts me, and helps eases the pain.”

Kyra
reverently touched the pieces, and then touched Bryce’s hand. “I had no idea
people did things like this,” she murmured. “It… seems almost holy.”

“You can make
one of your own, you know.” Bryce curled his fingers around hers, then brought
them to his lips. “I know you said you lost everything, but you might be able
to find something to use.”

“Yes,” Kyra
murmured, her eyes transfixed on Bryce’s lips pressed against her knuckles. “I
might do that.”

Instead of
releasing her fingers, he pressed a kiss to each of her knuckles, feathering
his lips gently over her skin. Tingles of pleasure shot down her arm, and Kyra
sucked in a breath. She watched his eyes, fixated on her, as they darkened with
desire, and a sudden panic gripped her.

“Don’t,” he
said hoarsely when she tried to pull away. “I… please. I just want to touch
you.”

Kyra held
herself still, which was easier said than done because her body desperately
wanted to gravitate toward him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Touching leads
to… other things.”

“I won’t let
it go that far.” He tugged her closer. “Please. I need you.”

The rawness
in his voice coupled with the burning look in his eyes were all it took to
crumble her defenses. Crawling forward on her knees, she allowed him to pull
her into his lap. His spicy scent surrounded her as his hands slid up the sides
of her face, fingers gently twining into her hair.

“You’re
beautiful, you know.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead, his fingers gently
kneading the edges of her skull, releasing tension she hadn’t realized was
there. “Not just on the outside, but inside too. Something about your soul
calls to me.”

“Isn’t that
just the mating bond?” Kyra asked, and though she wanted to sound skeptical the
words came out softly, as though she were in a trance.

“Perhaps,” he
answered, feathering kisses down from the bridge to the tip of her nose. “Maybe
it’s both.”

He pressed
his lips against hers, softly, tenderly, and Kyra sighed at the sweetness of
it. As her arms curled around his neck, she realized that she’d needed
this—the comfort of wrapping herself up in someone else, with no
expectations for anything but the present. Despite his earlier plea that he
needed her, now that she was in his arms he didn’t demand, didn’t take, just gave
her what she needed. And it was that knowledge that had her opening up to him
before he asked, sliding her tongue against the seam of his lips so that she
could taste him.

Bryce groaned
as Kyra breached the entrance to his mouth, tangling her tongue with his. He
wanted to tighten his arms around her, but his instincts told her that if he
did so he would frighten her. She was scared of the idea of being mated to him,
perhaps scared of commitment in general, but she also wanted just as he did. It
was better if he allowed her to explore her own desires first, rather than
indulge his.

Kyra shifted
closer, straddling Bryce’s thighs with her legs as she kissed him more deeply.
She could feel his chest rumble against hers as he groaned huskily, and sensed
the restraint in the powerful muscles flexing beneath her—he was holding
back, giving her a chance to explore. The stubble on his jaw chafed her hands
lightly as she wove her fingers through his thick, dark hair, enjoying the silk
texture of it. After a moment she slid her hands down the front of his tunic,
resting them against his chest so she could feel his heartbeat pounding against
her palm—strong, hard, fast. Just like the rest of him.

Growing
bolder, she nipped gently at his lips, then forged a trail down the side of his
jaw with her teeth and tongue, enjoying the spicy, slightly salty taste of his
skin. “I’ve never done this before,” she confessed quietly to him as she worked
her way down the side of his neck.

“I’ve never
felt
like this before,” Bryce panted, his fists clenched at his sides.

Kyra blinked.
“Are… are you alright?”

“I’m fine,”
he rasped, his body trembling.

She pulled
back. “Are you sure? If you want, I can—”

He snatched
her wrist and placed it against his chest again. “Please… don’t stop.”

Kyra realized
then that the agony in his eyes was not from any pain she was causing him, but
from need. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told her he needed her—his
body was trembling from the force he used to hold himself back. Guilt swamped
her. Who was she to deny him, especially since giving it to him would cost her
nothing?

Taking a
breath, she slid her hands underneath his tunic and pushed the fabric up,
exposing his upper body. His chest rose and fell with his labored breaths as
she glided her hands over the expanse of tawny skin. Tiny dark hairs teased her
fingers as she explored the ridges and curves of muscle. When she leaned down
to press a kiss against his chest, his entire body went rigid, and he let out
another husky groan.

“Mmm,” Kyra
murmured, flicking her tongue against his skin. “I had no idea those were
sensitive on a man.”

“A little too
sensitive,” Bryce said through gritted teeth, and Kyra giggled.

After a time,
she pulled away, and Bryce groaned. “Kyra, you’re killing me here.”

“I… I think
it’s best if we stop here. If I continue, I’ll be crossing a line I don’t think
I’m ready for yet.”

“Is there a
line?” Bryce wanted to know. “We’ve been far more intimate just now than some
couples ever are in their entire life. What’s holding you back, Kyra?”

Kyra pulled
away with a sigh. “I… I can’t answer that, Bryce.” She didn’t know how to make
him understand. “You’re not the one being asked to leave your way of life.”