Her Noble Destiny
Page 8
The two spiraled into the abyss of passion as their souls joined with the kiss; Jaedin pulled away and breathlessly asked, “So, do you think…” Aiden brought his mouth crashing back down to hers. “…we should…” he picked her up and cradled her in his large arms, “…find Iain and Kenna?”
Aiden pulled his lips away from hers with a large grin spread ear to ear, “Later.” And then he lowered her to the floor. “Much later.”
Epilogue
Epilogue
“The Ancients ken what ye’ve done, Lorna.” Teàrloch informed his wife as she walked through the door of their chamber soaking wet from her storm. “They’re not happy with ye at all.”
“We kenned this when I left to get Jaedin,” Lorna said. “I wasna goin’ to allow those mortals to use her like a pawn in their sadistic game. Luring her like a lamb to the slaughter,” She continued as she walked across the room to grab the towel that waited for her every time she came back from riding her storms.
“Cináed informed me that it was Jaedin who volunteered, Lorna. The mortals had nothin’ to do with her situation.” Teàrloch attempted to once again, reason with his wife.
Lorna paused and then turned to look at her husband. “Ye weren’t there, Teàrloch, I was. There was so much pain and tears.” She wrapped herself in the large towel then walked over to stand in front of her husband. “If I hadna taken Jaedin when I did, we woulda lost her.” Tears were forming in Lorna’s eyes as she looked to her husband for support. “All is well now. Aiden is with her and she cradles his heir within her belly.”
The large Fae king wrapped his muscular arms around his queen. “Ye should get some sleep.” He gently kissed the top of her head as he encouraged her. “Yer storm is restin’ and so must ye before yer leap with Isla in the morn.”
A knock at their chamber door startled them.
“Tis late,” Lorna stated as Teàrloch answered the door.
A timid Conall stood there trembling as he extended another sealed message to his king.
Teàrloch closed the door just as Lorna took the letter from his hand then quickly opened it. The color drained from her face. “Christ Almighty, no,” she breathlessly said. “Oh, Teàrloch, no.” She burst into tears.
* * * *
“Mayday, mayday! This is Chief Warrant Three Isla MacKinnon. My CH-47 has been hit!” Isla called into the radio as she was furiously flipping switches and pressing buttons. “She’s bleeding badly and there’s no recovering her. We are going down!” She continued to call into the radio of her United States Army Chinook helicopter as she struggled with both hands to gain control of the large beast.
The sparse treetops upon the ridge came into view as the heavy bird tilted forward, “Hang on tight boys this is going to be a rough landing!” She called back to her crew.
The beast howled with surrender as the front rotor of the helicopter hit the ground first, shattering it and the other blades into shreds then the nose hit the ground with such force that it propelled it back to land hard on its roof, caving it in.
“Chief? Chief, are you there?” a voice came across the radio finding no response. “Sir, I think we’ve lost them.” The radio operator reported to the officer in charge of the Tactical Operations Center.
The TOC commander took control of the radio. “Isla, are ye there, lass?” his Scottish brogue came to head as he waited for a response. When nothing but silence came through, he called for her several more times. His face paled as he threw down the headset. “Send in Mitchell and her squad for recovery.” Then he stormed from trailer.