Sneek peak from Arcadian's Balm

I'm not going to give a release date on Arcadian's Balm. Not until I'm well and truly almost finished. But here's a scene that you might enjoy:

When Lorien woke, she saw that no Arcadian woman sat with her. There was only Ava’s

young, beautiful husband, who smiled sweetly, and without a word, lifted a drink to her lips. Though she knew they’d been introduced, she could not remember his name.

Lorien sipped gratefully, enjoying the wash of liquid over her tongue. Once she’d had her

fill, she lifted a weak hand to nudge the cup away.

“Better?” the too-pretty man asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Looking around, Lorien realized that they were alone in the cavern, but

for one large man who snored on a low bed near the back. “Is it night?”

“Aye. I sent the ladies to their homes to rest. They been nigh wearin’ themselves here with you.” The words were said with no rancour or resentment, just a simple fact.

“You’re still here,” Lorien pointed out.

“Aye.” He winked. “Was the only way our Ava would go home. Mind it none, little sister,

I’se glad enough to help out.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Little sister?”

“Yes… I mean, you can’t be any older than I am.”

Lorien’s conversational partner (what was his name?) looked amused. “I’ve two-and-

twenty years on me. Not so much more than ye, but is not about that. Is a term of respect. I can also say sister-kin, which is how we speaks to the sisters of our Clan mates, if they be so lucky to have ‘em.”

It took a moment for Lorien to remember that Wildlanders rarely produced female

offspring. It felt unnatural to her ears, to hear of anyone, much less a man, being grateful for girls born into a family, but it would make sense if they had such a shortage of them. He spoke with the same reverence that Arcadians reserved only for sons.

“So do I call you elder brother, then? Or brother-kin?”

“Killian will do fine.” His long-lashed eyes were a piercing, lovely shade of blue, deeper than the sky on the clearest day. And as he reached out to stroke her hair back, she saw that his hands were slim-fingered but obviously strong, his movements sure and graceful. Warder had had beautiful hands. Lorien blinked against a wave of grief.

“What happens now?” she whispered.

The healer seemed to understand her question. “I want to keep ye here a while. Your body’s been through some terrible trial, ye knows that. You been so weak. We’ll have ye regain your strength, bit by bit, and then you’ll come stay with us at our place while your mind and heart heal up. From there….” He didn’t seem to quite be able to find the words.

But Lorien knew. “I’ll be made to join a Clan.”

“Is our way. You’ll have some time, of course, to mourn your losses, but eventually it will happen. A few Clans have already approached Blaise, askin’ to be considered, but he told ‘em all to back away.”

Lorien blinked. “Already?”

“Women are in short supply, little sister. There’s still thirty or more Clans in this area who don’t have a bride. Havin’ a female walk right into our Circle, see, that’s a rare gift.”

“How will… how will it be decided where I go? Do I have to try court all of them?” Lorien shuddered, remembering her sweet, chaste courtship with Warder, the fluttering glances, the gentle words, the few soft, stolen kisses.

Killian shook his head. “Blaise, our clan leader, has laid claim to you for now. The elders accepted it because, through Ava, we’se the closest thing you has to family. Any Clan wants at ye, they comes through us.”

“Will I have any choice?” Lorien asked, not certain if she even cared. Warder was gone. What did it matter, who she was given to, if it was not her beloved? But something stirred within, a frisson of that will that had given her the strength to leave Arcadia and seek out her sister. She was not about to just lie down and let things happen.

“The Wildlander way, we helps ye decide. Ava, she’s insisting it be done that way. Ye won’t be forced to Clan with men ye finds truly objectionable.”

But she had to marry one of the groups, Lorien knew. She’d tried to come to terms with that in her long days of walking through the Wildlands. If she was to survive, she would have to accept their way of life. “I’m not a virgin,” she said bluntly.

Killian seemed amused. “I’se given to understand that the Softfoots have interest in that, but we don’t. Rare is a Wildlander woman that goes to her Clan a maid.”

“I’ve been pregnant.”

“A proven breeder is a desirable mate.” Killian chafed her palm with his thumb, a comforting gesture. “From what I could see when I examined ye, you’ll regain your health, and won’t be a problem bearing another child. Sure, you’ll want to wait a time, which is best all around, but when ye feel ready, your womb will bear fruit again. And there’ll be no shortage of men offerin’ to provide the seed.”

Lorien remembered the feeling of Warder’s organ inside her, the wet heat of his release. Even though a lady was not supposed to enjoy such things, she had. She’d been a poor wife to Warder, with her lack of control and unnatural urges, but he’d loved her anyhow.

It was as though her sister’s husband knew the direction of her thoughts. “Is not the time to think about Clans. Just know that you’ll be protected. Ava’s so glad you’re alive and you’re here… she’ll take such good care of ye. We all will.”

The thought warmed Lorien as she drifted off to sleep again.