Myla By Moonlight Read Online Free

Something had stirred in the brief seconds his touch embraced her, something shocking and thrilling that distracted her from the task at hand. Before, any touch she’d shared with Taric had been fleeting and fast, aimed at removing him from harm. Enveloped in his hold, her senses had scattered and focused on the feel of him rather than the danger. She should have known the woman had a second knife strapped to her thigh. The mistake had nearly been too costly.
    “With you, I am as human as any you may pass in the hall. I can bleed and even die unless I return to my magical form. Do not fear for me, Taric. I am well suited to be your guardian despite my flaws.”
    “I’ve never doubted your abilities, Myla. But if you can bleed, then you can eat. I asked the cook to make us a meal. Will you eat with me and talk? There’s so much I don’t know about you. Please.”
    So earnest was his request, she couldn’t think of refusing him. The array of foodstuff intrigued her. Many things she could learn and sense through Taric but flavor was not one of them. She could name each dish but had no idea of their textures or tastes. The choices on the table tempted her. What did bread taste like? Why did Taric prefer the oranges to the asparagus? The scents filling the air tantalized her and her mouth watered. What was it like to bite and not have blood coat your tongue?
    At her small nod, his lips curled back into a wide grin, showing even white teeth and softening his face. A spark flickered in his eyes and her temporary heart began to pound. What was happening to her? She had seen Taric smile a hundred times and never before felt jittery adrenaline shoot through her. Ducking her head to hide her expression, she stepped to the table before him.
    “This appears to be a banquet. Has your appetite returned to your younger days?”
    Warm and rich, his laugh poured over her like a waterfall. He pulled a tufted chair from the table and waved her in place. “No, I don’t think any grown man can eat like a boy of sixteen for long. I wasn’t sure which foods you’d prefer so I may’ve been a bit…broad in my choices.”
    She folded her body onto the seat with care, noting the smooth texture of the wooden chair arms. They were as solid as his had been when they encircled her waist. The stiff padded back reminded her of his chest cradling her wounded frame last evening and her breath caught. To distract him from noticing her reactions, she blurted out, “I do not know which foods I prefer.”
    He sat across from her and cocked one tawny brow. “What do you mean?”
    “I have never eaten so I do not know which foods appeal. I know you dislike stewed eels but have a fondness for braised lamb. And once you consumed far too many maple tarts and were abed for hours with belly cramps.”
    Taric leaned one arm on the table and buried his chin in his palm, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “I remember that. I think I was only about nine summers or so. How did you know though?”
    “When you are distressed in any way, I…listen, I suppose is the best way to describe it. You were in no danger but you were most uncomfortable. The moaning kept me concerned for a long while.”
    There were no servants in the room so Taric served her himself. One silvered plate in hand, he selected a bounty of tidbits for her to sample and placed it in front of her. Unsure how to proceed, she waited until his own plate rested before him to take up her fork. He watched her expectantly so she speared the brightest object on the dish, a plump strawberry the size of his knuckle. Pink juice dripped from the tines as she raised it to her mouth. A springtime storm erupted on her tongue with a sweet river of pleasure and her eyes widened in delight.
    “Oh! I do like this. It is like sunshine in my mouth.”
    Chuckling, he moved the small dish closer to her. “Then eat them all. Enjoy, Myla.”
    Throughout the meal, he asked questions. She relayed what she could although