Magic In The Storm (8 page)

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Authors: Meredith Bond

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #fantasy, #paranormal, #magic, #regency, #meredith bond

BOOK: Magic In The Storm
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Morgan felt a tightness developing in his
chest, and anger beginning a slow burn in the pit of his stomach.
He tried to think clearly, but with Kat’s words echoing in his
mind, he just could not seem to form any coherent thoughts.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” she said in a whisper that left a
taste of anguish in his mouth.

He turned and walked away from her, facing
the empty wall next to the door.

He would lose his powers? But what about the
prophecy that had proclaimed his greatness? The seventh child of
the seventh generation... he was that child! That destiny, those
powers, they were his. How could this be taken away from him?

He spun around to face Kat. “In a little over
a month? My twenty–first birthday is in a little over a month.” In
two strides he was back at her side. He grasped hold of her arms,
anger still flaming inside of him. “What happens when I turn
twenty–one?”

She looked up at him, her normally soothing
hazel eyes now wide with fear and worry. “I... I don’t know. She
didn’t say.”

“She must have said something. You’ll be
turning twenty–one on the same day. She must have told you what to
expect.” He gave her a shake. He
needed
to know. Now!

“Morgan, please, you’re hurting me!” Kat
cried, twisting her body and trying to reach his hands.

His anger deflated immediately. He would
never hurt Kat, he loved her with all of his heart. He didn’t want
to hurt anyone—he just needed the truth. He let go of her arms, and
instead wrapped his own around her body. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,
Kat.”

Morgan could feel his heart pounding in his
ears. He wanted answers so desperately that he was capable of
hurting one of the few people in his life who had ever really cared
for him. Kat, who had always been there for him, who had defended
him against his sisters, and even, at times, his mother. How could
he hurt her?

But still, he had to know.

She pulled away from him. “I wish I knew the
answers, I really do. But she said nothing, honestly. I don’t know
what will happen, but I’m afraid that if you don’t have your powers
by then, you will lose what you have for sure.”

Morgan dropped his arms to his sides. “But
how do I get them? I’ve been trying, practicing, and working on my
magic for practically my entire life...”

Kat winced as he said the words out loud. He
knew he shouldn’t speak of such things outside of a whisper, but
there was no one here and no one nearby. To hell with hiding—Morgan
had nothing to hide, or, well, nearly nothing. His powers were so
limited.

“I know. I’ve been the one encouraging you,
but... but maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe you’ll never...”

“No! I can’t believe that. I can’t allow
myself to give up.” Morgan’s answer was swift and sure. He may not
have powers now, but he would—it was destined! “You have always
supported me, Kat, ever since we were young.”

She shook her head slowly. “You know I admire
you a great deal. I mean, the fact that you have continually
tried... and what you’ve done here in the forest, with the animals
and the herbs—it’s just amazing. This is the most vibrant, safe
forest anywhere. Are you certain it isn’t enough for you? Are you
sure...”

“Don’t even say it, Kat!” Morgan’s voice was
a low growl, but he couldn’t control it. What his cousin was saying
went against everything he had ever lived for, everything he had
ever strived for. Yes, he had worked hard to make this forest a
good home for all of the creatures, but he did it knowing that his
great destiny was waiting for him.
His
destiny, not
Kat’s.

“You know that I don’t want it, Morgan,” Kat
said, able as always to read his emotions before he was hardly
aware of them himself. “I want that prophecy to come true even more
than you do, but... the more I think about it, the more I wonder if
what I’ve been doing, encouraging you in this way, hasn’t actually
been... well, cruel.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you are never to going to gain any
powers, no matter what you do...”

Morgan stood away from his cousin,
straightened his back and held up his hand for her to stop
speaking. “I am. The prophecy
is
going to come true, Kat. I
will
be the most powerful Vallen of my time and I
will
attain the destiny that has been laid out for me.”

 

 

Nine

 

A
driana stepped out
into the clearing by the stream. She had walked straight through
the woods, once again searching for Morgan. But she saw no signs of
him.

He was not here at the stream either. She
looked around. Was there anything that might point her toward where
he had gone? Standing by the water, she scanned the trees for some
sign of a path, of anything at all.

She couldn’t bear yet another sleepless night
filled not only with visions of Morgan’s eyes, but of the rest of
his body as well. She had to find him. She had to speak with him.
She could not rest until she knew more about this mysterious man.
She also needed to get her sketchbook back, and that, she
recognized, was her best excuse to seek him out.

As she wandered about the river bank, a
sudden shout and a crash caught Adriana’s attention. It sounded as
if someone or something large had fallen. But that was not the end
of it. Things continued to fall with loud bangs, clangs and
crashes.

Following the sounds as quickly as she could,
she moved through the thick undergrowth and between narrowly spaced
trees. As she was about to step out from between the closely
growing trees into a clearing, she brought herself up short.

She had found him! Morgan stood in the middle
of the clearing, in front of a pile of wood with a black metal pot
hanging above it.

Her heart was suddenly light. Happiness
tingled through her just at the sight of him. He was so very
handsome. Although the men she knew and admired dressed in the
latest styles and Morgan didn’t even have a coat on, he still made
her heart pound in the most awkward manner. It didn’t make sense,
she thought merrily, nearly laughing at her own foolishness.
Suddenly, now that she had found him, she felt utterly,
unreasonably giddy with joy.

He looked so strong and commanding as he
stood there with his arm outstretched, palm facing the pile of wood
in front of him.

“Fire!” he commanded.

Adriana looked at the wood, but there was no
fire there. What was he doing?

She watched with growing confusion as he now
pointed at the wood with his finger. He shifted his weight on his
booted feet, firmly planting them on the ground, and then said
again in a voice that sent a shiver down Adriana’s spine,
“Fire!”

An odd sensation came over Adriana, as if
there was a memory just on the edge of her consciousness—but she
could bring it no closer. Somehow, what Morgan was doing resonated
deep within her. A shiver ran across her skin, and she rubbed at
her arms.

She shook her head, dispelling the thought.
Did he really believe he could start a fire just by pointing at a
pile of wood? The ridiculousness of the situation caught up with
her and she covered her mouth to hold back her giggles.

Morgan, however, only seemed to have become
angry. He picked up a piece of wood from in front of him and threw
it at the pile, just barely missing the pot that hung suspended
above it.

“I said, fire!” he shouted at the wood.

Now he was really being silly, and Adriana
could no longer hold back her laughter.

He started, and turned at the sound.
“Adriana!”

“Perhaps it would be easier if you used a
tinder box,” she giggled, walking over to him.

He looked at the heap of wood, pausing for
only the briefest moment before he laughed. “Yes. I wasn’t, er, I
mean...” he stopped and laughed again. “You must think me
completely insane.”

“Well, I did wonder for a moment,” she said,
moving closer.

“I’m not, really. But I am very happy you’ve
come.” He stopped suddenly. “How did you find me?”

“It was quite easy, actually,” she said. “I
just followed all the yelling and noise.” She stopped a few steps
away from him, but he continued moving closer.

“I’m sorry if I was being too loud,” he said,
the smile growing on his face. “But I’m very glad you were able to
find me. I shall have to try throwing wood more often if that draws
you to me. I may not have started the fire, but I got something
much better...” The ‘you’ was unspoken, but Adriana could
hear it in her mind, nonetheless.

His voice had become quieter, and held a
deep, rich timbre that made Adriana want to reach out to him. She
held herself back, however, and contented herself with just looking
up at him, and trying to keep her breathing slow and steady.

He was much taller than she remembered, but
even more impressive than that was the mere presence of him. He
radiated masculinity and virility. His simple white shirt, open at
the collar, did nothing but accentuate what Adriana now knew lay
beneath it. And the muscles of his strong legs were barely hidden
by his tight buckskin breeches.

He stood so close, she could smell the fresh
clean scent of his soap, tinged with the not–so–pleasant smell of
the stable that lingered about him. She was near enough to him that
she could have easily reached out and placed her hand flat against
his chest just like...

And then she saw she had. How had that
happened? There was something about him that she just could not
resist. She
had
to touch him, to be close to him.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“I am yours.” The words echoed in her head
and touched her soul, and she knew deep down that indeed he
was.

“Yes, but, I don’t understand. I know you,
but...”

“I don’t understand it either, I only know
what I feel.” He placed his warm hand on her cheek. “And with you,
I feel happy.”

“Yes! No one I’ve ever met before has made me
feel this way.”

He smiled, and traced his thumb along her
cheek bone. “I want to know everything about you.”

“And I want the same—to know you and to be
with you.”

He gave a laugh. “Well, you’ve already seen
me, all of me.”

Adriana gasped and took a step back, feeling
her face burn with embarrassment. She’d almost forgotten—her
sketchbook!

He laughed again. “It’s all right. I just
wish I knew how you put your emotions into your drawings. And the
feel of the sun and the sounds, and... they are the most incredible
pictures I’ve ever seen. How did you...”

“I didn’t!” she said, interrupting his
silliness. “It’s just your imagination. My companion says the same
thing, but really, those feelings are not in the picture. How could
they be?”

Morgan frowned, making his eyes look even
deeper than they were naturally. “But I felt...”

“Do you have my sketchbook? May I have it
back, please?”

“You truly want it?” he asked, his lips
quirking up a little on one side of his mouth.

“Yes!” He was teasing her now, she could
tell. Silently she pleaded with him. She was already embarrassed
enough that she had been caught having drawn pictures of him
naked.

After a moment, he took pity on her and
turned toward his house.

As he was about to disappear into the neat
little cottage, she called out, “You might want to get the tinder
too while you are in there.” If he could tease her, she could do
the same, she thought with satisfaction as he flushed before giving
a little laugh.

She wished she could have followed him so
that she could peek into his home and find out how he lived. She
burned with a curiosity to know all she could about this confusing,
fascinating man. But the voice of propriety inside her stopped her
with “a lady never enters a gentleman’s home, and certainly not
alone!”

She contented herself with looking around the
outside, taking a turn around the clearing between the cottage and
the barn. Morgan’s home looked very much like him—a little rough,
but beautifully built, very masculine and spare. The one window of
the well–proportioned cottage had no curtains, only plain wooden
shutters that had been left carelessly open. There were no flowers
growing by the door, but the area was clean and well–kept. It
looked very comfortable, lived in and home–like.

Morgan reappeared, carefully closing his door
behind him. Walking back to where she stood near the pile of wood,
he took a moment to look down at her sketchbook in his hand. “May
I... do you think I could have one of your sketches?”

“You want one?” she asked, amazed someone
would. Her guardian had always told her they were awful, emotional
hogwash. But Morgan actually liked them enough to want to keep
one?

He gave a shrug and a little smile. “It
allows me to feel close to you, even when you’re not here. I can
feel you in the picture.”

Adriana caught her breath as she was engulfed
by emotion. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to
her! She blinked back the tears that came to her eyes.

“Of course,” she said, her voice rough with
emotion. She cleared her throat and tried again. “If you truly want
one.”

“I do.”

She opened her book to the first sketch she’d
made of him by the stream. It was the happy picture showing Morgan
and his dog playing. She had wanted to keep it to remember seeing
him having fun. The second sketch was much more intimate and full
of desire. He was in all of his naked glory. Yes, perhaps she had
better give him this one. It wouldn’t be right if anyone were to
see that she’d even drawn such a picture.

She felt her face heat—she still couldn’t
believe he knew that she’d seen him this way. She took a deep
breath to dispel her embarrassment and even managed to look up into
his eyes. They were filled with something Adriana couldn’t quite...
oh, but she could—they were filled with desire. She was shocked to
admit it, even silently to herself.

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