Beneath a Midnight Moon by Amanda Ashley

cried her name as tremors racked his body, his voice a low growl of pleasure as his arms crushed her close.
    And she arched up to meet him, drawing him deeper, deeper, knowing that never again would she feel as loved, or be as complete, as she was at that moment.
    And it was only a dream . . .

    She couldn’t face him in the morning. No dream, no reality, had ever been as soul-satisfying as the image that had made love to her in the night. She couldn’t stay here any longer, couldn’t see him every day, couldn’t hear his voice, see his smile, and not throw herself into his arms. Not after what had passed in her dream the night before.
    If she stayed, that dream was certain to become reality and, as tempting as the thought was, she couldn’t let it happen. She could not break the vows she had made to the Sisterhood. To do so would leave her soul forever damned, doomed to wander in darkness throughout all eternity.
    She woke early and went to Sharilyn’s room, lightly knocking on the door.
    “Who’s there?” inquired a sleepy voice.
    “Kylene, my lady.”
    “Kylene? Is something wrong?”
    “I need to speak to you.”
    “Come in, child.”
    Hesitantly, Kylene opened the door and stepped into Sharilyn’s bedchamber. It was a large room, filled with large dark furniture. Wine red draperies covered the windows; thick fur rugs covered the floor. She was relieved to find Hardane’s mother alone in the room.
    “What is it, child?” Sharilyn asked.
    “I came to ask a favor.”
    Sharilyn sat up, her back propped against the high curved headboard. “Ask.”
    “Hadj mentioned that there’s a sisterhouse not far from here. I wish to go there.”
    Sharilyn’s brow furrowed at the girl’s odd request. “Is something wrong?”
    “No, my lady. It’s just that I’m uncomfortable here, surrounded by servants and . . . and wealth. I’ve taken vows of poverty and chastity and . . .”
    “I see,” Sharilyn said. And, indeed, she did see. Hardane was not the only one smitten. “I think, perhaps, it would be best for everyone if you took refuge at the Bourne Sisterhouse.”
    Kylene nodded. Sisterhouse or Motherhouse, though called by different names, both were places of refuge and retreat, and she dearly needed a place to hide. “I should like to go as soon as possible.”
    “Within the hour, if you like.”
    “Thank you, my lady. And . . . I . . . that is . . .”
    “I understand, my dear. Hardane needn’t know where you’ve gone.”
    “Thank you, my lady.”
    “I shall miss you, Kylene,” Sharilyn said sincerely. “I wish you every happiness in the life you’ve chosen.”
    Kylene nodded, unable to speak past the sudden lump that rose in her throat.
    “Hadj will attend you,” Sharilyn said kindly. “And Teliford will escort you to the abbey when you’re ready.”
    Kylene nodded again and quickly left the room before Hardane’s mother could see the tears brimming in her eyes.
     
     
    “Gone!” Hardane exclaimed angrily. “Gone where?”
    Sharilyn shook her head, unruffled by her son’s outburst. “It was her wish to leave, a wish I respected. And you will, too.”
    “No!”
    “If she had wanted you to know her destination, she would have told you.”
    Hardane swore under his breath as he began to pace the Hall’s polished wooden floor. She had run away from him, run just as fast as she could. Why? Had his shadowed lovemaking been so repellent that she’d feared he might invade her dreams again?
    He shook his head, knowing even as the thought crossed his mind that it wasn’t true. She had returned his love, every touch, every thrust. He could not be mistaken about that.
    Then why had she left the castle like a thief in the night?
    He paused to stare out the window, and the answer came to him, quietly and without doubt. She had not run away from him at all, but from herself. She was an honorable woman and she had chosen to leave him rather than risk breaking her vow of chastity to the