Free Silent Storm by Vivian Arend

course, if Kallen hadn’t shown up on the scene, it might have made things a little easier. His jealousy this time was far less. He liked the man—damn it anyway. Even over the past day as they’d played games and worked on the Stormchild , he’d come to enjoy having another male around. A person who he could be a friend to without being the shaman . It was an experience he hadn’t known since his days at university.
    In spite of admiring Kallen, Matt wasn’t about to bow out. If Laurin felt she had to return to the mountains permanently, he would not give up. They would find the answer of how to deal with their dual roles. Because being without her would be like losing his soul.
    Matt sat on the deck, gaze still trained up on the sky. Laurin and Kallen had long since disappeared, lost in the shades of green and gray of the Caren Mountain range. The rocky crags hid them, the distance between them growing. And yet—he felt what could only be described as an undeniable tug.
    He pulled off his necklace with its minute leather bag. He’d worn it ever since Laurin had given him the prayer stone after their first morning together as a couple. The magic of his people allowed it to go with him when he shifted. He’d never questioned the enchantment—it simply was. Like the tiny sack and its contents were a part of him.
    Tipping the bag over, he allowed the smooth stone to fall into his palm. He sensed her through it, knew that no matter where she went, he’d be able to follow her. Some of his people believed the stones could guide them. That it held a tiny piece of home to draw them back to hearth and safety. He knew it was more, that the magic in the stone was not between a person and a place, but between two souls.
    He cupped the smooth rock and rubbed it between his fingers. Eyes closed. Picturing Laurin in all her seasons. All her roles he’d come to appreciate—teacher, friend…lover. Partner in discoveries, playmate in their off-time. She’d been a support to him as he served his people, always open and willing to negotiate the differences between their cultures.
    He’d learned so much from having her around. Her impulsive hugs and bursts of enthusiasm shook his deliberate approach to life. The way she could flare up with anger and just as quickly offer forgiveness—the first few times he’d been sure he would never be able to understand her. Now he saw there was strength in spontaneity that could benefit his people.
    Stillness.
    Quiet.
    From far beneath the waves slapping the sides of the Stormchild , he absorbed the peace of the ocean. Breathed it in and allowed it to become a part of him. Waiting, like only the People of the Sea knew how. Water could wear down the mountains, turn them into a soft sandy beach, if given enough time.
    He remained at rest. Reached out, sent his love, offered his support to allow Laurin to find her own peace. The wind flapped the furled sails lightly, the deck rose and fell easily.
    Tranquility.
    Calm.
    A change occurred, first sensed on the air. That awareness he had of her ripened, turning lush and fruitful, and his hopes rose. With a rush she approached, lightness and elation surrounding her. He turned his face skyward and laughed as she joined him, shifting back to human a meter above the deck and tumbling into his arms. She knocked him to his back, kissing him madly, warm skin covering his.
    “I love you. Oh, Matt, I love you so much. I want to stay with you, and be with you. I know it now, I know it…”
    And his heart grew a size, filled with her presence and her confession. It was going to work out. He squeezed her tightly before forcing her back far enough to look into her eyes again.
    “I love you too.”
    She grinned, face radiant, the worried creases at the edges of her eyes gone. She scrambled to her feet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to knock you over.”
    “I didn’t mind at all.” He replaced his necklace, coming to stand at her side. She tucked up to him