“What’s the matter?” Ro hadn’t missed the brooding look on his face and thought she’d done something wrong.
Before he had a chance to answer, he felt a prod in his mind. Rowan was knocking on his mental door. With a devious smile, Devlin opened up and gave her his answer. Thoughts flashed through his head and into hers: Devlin was laying her out on the moors, thrusting inside her as she raked his back. Ro in the shower on her knees taking him in her mouth. The two of them under his sheets, all senses lost between them.
It was like his hands were already on her, caressing, teasing, pulling, grabbing. Her eyes flashed in response. Ah yes, she remembered it well. Going all warm and gooey, Rowan felt a rush of heat surge between her thighs. Now was not the time for distractions, she thought. This was a test.
“No.” Rowan steadied herself, closing her eyes to focus. “No” she repeated, her voice rang loud in his mind.
Devlin smiled. Aye, the lass was catching on.
Once they had a good solid connection, Rowan was having trouble filtering their thoughts. Everything felt like it was on high speed whizzing around in her head. Like a cyclone of images and words. It was exhilarating at first, but then it just got to be too much and she was getting a terrible headache and starting to feel nauseous.
“Stop, Devlin. We have to stop.” Rowan started rubbing her temples, eyes shut and weary. She was exhausted.
“Nay lass, if ye want it to stop, ye have to shut me out. ‘Tis the point.”
Rowan gave him a look that implied just how fed up she was and that he was risking a slap in the face for it.
“I dinna mean to be so harsh, a stór, but ye have to learn. No offense, but ye are the type that must learn the hard way. I’ll not be easy on ye, woman.”
It was a challenge. One that Rowan fell for hook, line, and sinker. Mustering up the energy she had left, Rowan was two parts tired, one part pissed, and a gallon of determination. The combo must have done the trick. She snapped her head to the side and Slam! a wall went down between them.
“Ye did it!” Picking her up and kissing her, Devlin swung her around in a circle. He couldn’t believe it! She’d shut that door and blocked him easier than she let him in. He was amazed, and the smile of pride he had for her accomplishments reached his whiskey eyes.
“I’m so glad I made you happy!” Rowan was running her fingers through his hair adoringly while he was holding her in an embrace that had her two feet off the ground.
“Aye, ye make me verra happy.” He set her feet back on the ground again. “And I’m not just meaning with what we’re doing here now.”
Looking down at her, his face grew more serious and his eyes didn’t waver from her own. “I’ve never met someone like ye in all my days, Rowan. I meant it before, but I’ll say it again. I love ye, woman. Love ye with all my being. I dinna want to go a day without ye in my arms.”
This was starting to sound serious. Rowan was touched by his words, but made nervous by them too.
“Marry me, Rowan.” It was a hope, not a demand.
Her breath caught in her throat and her mouth went suddenly dry. This was moving fast, at least that’s what her brain was saying. Her heart was saying something else. Rowan didn’t make a peep for several heartbeats. She was trying to stop the shaking that had started in her hands and was slowly traveling down the rest of her.
“Are you sure about this?” Rowan wasn’t a stupid woman, but she was feeling stupid now having asked that question. His look back at her said it all. He loved her. Rowan had a flash of a memory when her dad once said, “One day girl, a man’s going to come along and grab a hold of you. If he’s smart, he won’t let go. When the day comes that you fall in love, don’t hesitate to jump in with both feet. Life is too short not to go for what you want, and time is shorter. ”
“Yes!” Rowan beamed her biggest toothiest smile at him. “Yes! I’ll marry you!”
They were on each other in seconds. Hands grasping, fingers tangled in hair, basking in the love and joy that radiated off their bodies in waves of light. She felt as light as a feather while he swung her in circles. Devlin hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he let it blow out of him upon hearing rejoice in her answer. The Gods were smiling down on him today. One more kiss, make that two… no three.
“I canna wait. Will ye marry me now?”
“Now, now? Like, right now?!” Rowan was so wrapped up in excitement she sounded like a jittery bird.
She had to calm down enough to think clearly about this. She didn’t plan to ever marry, didn’t consider herself lucky enough, so thoughts of wedding bells and dresses had never entered her mind. The idea of big bouquets and bridesmaids had her suddenly panicked. She wasn’t prepared for this right now. She thought of all the weddings she’d been to over the years, of friends, family, old college buddies. They were different colors and times of year, but the same in ceremony. She wasn’t like that though. Traditions are wonderful, but so is spontaneity. Must be passed down in blood, Ro thought, her own parents got married on a whim one day after dating for just a couple of months. That was 35 years ago. When you know, you know.
“Let’s do it.”
Lorcan drank blood from a cup that was, once upon a time, a skull. It belonged to a woman, her hair long and red with tight unruly curls. His demons had dragged her here for Lorcan to let out some of his tension on. He preferred women. Not for their bodies, although they were nice too. But their screams were so much louder and fear much sweeter than that of a man’s.
He examined the dry bone in his hand, with its two teeth missing on one side. She was gorgeous at one point, until he lashed her body to shreds. She didn’t last long, falling unconscious from pain and blood loss. But once he’d started, bloodlust consumed him and there was no stopping until she was nothing but battered pulp and meat on the ground. Her head was the only thing that remained intact.
Rotating his keepsake, Lorcan took another sip as he looked around the room. He was restless and agitated- a deadly combination that didn’t bode well for anything that crossed his path. His army of shadows and demons had diminished by his own angry hands. He still didn’t understand how Rowan managed to escape. He’d underestimated her willpower and prowess, a mistake not to be made twice.
But thinking of her sprawled out in his bed, creamy skin and long legs, he was under her spell. The woman had no regard for rules, the spine of a warrior, and the body of a Goddess. He loved her. Well, as much as a Sidhe like him can love. He admired her. And he was in her debt.
For truth, she had been a beacon to so many wandering souls. They’d seek her out, ready to give her messages, talk or just be close to her light. And she was always ready and eager for them to come to her. Fools they were, they never noticed what lied in wait. Those wandering, blabbering souls were easy plucking. Sitting ducks. It took them a little while, but soon the spirits realized that to go to Rowan would mean a great risk for them, one most weren’t willing to take.
One by one, the spirits had backed away from the light she offered, and in return, she’d let out the darkness. Poor child, she was so full of herself, selfish and eager for someone to heed her commands. No wonder he loved her. They were a perfect match.
Without her having called out to him that day in the woods, offering her blood to the ground to anyone who wanted it, he would have never been given a second chance at redemption. His realm all but opened up to her once it got a taste of what was inside her.
She was the light at the end of a dark and lonely tunnel. It was an opportunity to once again walk the earth and potentially find his way back to the Faelands. He only needed to gain a little more strength and power before he was no longer a shadow of his former self, but made again as a Sidhe of flesh. He was so close now and his remaking had been a long time coming.
He had a mission, self-serving as can be, but a mission nonetheless, which has been the driving force for all his madness: Lorcan belonged on a throne.
Lorcan’s talent was in bloodletting, but it was not his only skill – as Rowan learned in his bed. The Sidhe deserved a crown on his head. The Fae nobles were so pretentious and ignorant. The very thought of those high and mightys twirling about and being merry all day had him spitting his disgust on the ground. They knew nothing of battle and sacrifice.
While Lorcan was fighting for their lands, the royalty were sipping wine and dancing in their large banquet halls with equally wretched nobles bowing down to them. Weak and pathetic, they should have been food for the dogs. He would be a better ruler. A more fierce ruler. A true leader for the strongest and most deadly of the Fae.
He just had to get back there to prove it.
A banshee wailed past him in a black blur and her screech snapped him out of his daydream. The quiet hum in his chest vibrated with every thought of Rowan. He was so used to feeling the thrumming, it took a few minutes for it to register that the thrumming was now barley a tingle. That sent an alarm clanging through his mind. Someone else has a stronger hold on his beloved and she had blocked out all but whoever that person was. Somehow, Lorcan’s tie to Rowan was nearly severed.
How could this have happened? She was getting further away from his reach when he needed her most. Lorcan needed more power. And he needed it now.
He looked hungrily around the room as if what he needed was within reach of where he was sitting, but it wasn’t. He’d been saving this final source for a day that he needed it most. It was the last of its kind. Or so he assumed. Rowan was not going to slip through his grasp. Not now when he was so close to having her.
He’d been trying to reach her, to see her sweet face, but she’s been holed up in a house in Ireland, of all places, and the property was covered in protective spells and guarded more frequently by that blasted black hound. Lorcan knew who that dog answered to, and would prefer to stay away from such creatures.
The hound was part of the Wild Hunt, a ferocious and deadly mass of the fiercest creatures in all the lands. Death Bringers. Soul Searchers. They had the ability to kill Fae, without much effort too. Lorcan had to keep his distance from that hound and the Wild Hunt, lest they discover Lorcan’s plan and slay him before he’s had a chance to see it through. Nay doubt they’re pissed that he’s taken so many souls and bodies that belonged to them. What he’d done was absolutely forbidden and unforgivable.
Not that he cared.
Lorcan guzzled the last dregs of his drink and handed it to the three-headed creature standing by his side. Heads down, the demon took the skull and skittered away out of sight. Lorcan strolled gracefully towards an opening in his cave. Gliding through the hall, he came to a split of tunnels. He took the one that was less traveled in.
It was so dark; Lorcan couldn’t see his hands in front of his face. He sent out a small pulse of energy, his transparent skin shimmered with a light golden glow. It wasn’t much, but was enough to see his footing as his continued into the blackness.
His boots thumped like loud drums. Chains rattled in panic up ahead. Lorcan smiled to himself, he didn’t need a light to see the fear emanating from inside the cage before him.
“Good evening, Ruark.”
Chapter 22
Ava and Adam were thrilled with the news that Ro and Devlin shared. “This is wonderful!” Ava said, clapping her hands and coming over to pass out hugs.
“Aye,” Adam said – he was a Sidhe of many words.
“We want to do it tonight. Can ye make the arrangements, Ava? A hand-fasting will do for the now.” Devlin held Ro’s hand and brought it up for a light kiss.
“Aye, love! A hand-fasting is easy to do, though I’m sure Rowan will want something larger with her family and friends and the like.” Ava cocked her head to the side waiting for Rowan to agree.
“No, I don’t want anything big and flashy. Something small and simple is all.”
Ava gave her a reproachful look. “Aye, you’re right. ‘Tis not for me to say that you have a big wedding with all the ruffles, cakes, and flowers about.”
Rowan saw the disappointment on Ava’s face; she all but oozed poutiness. “Tell you what Ava, when we get done beating the big, bad wolf, I’ll let you throw me a wedding with all the bells and whistles if you want.”
That promise had Ava smiling like a kid at Christmas. “Deal!” Ava went out the door whistling like a robin in spring time.
They decided the ceremony would take place that day at sunset. It didn’t leave a whole lot of time, but there wasn’t a whole lot to do. At least the rain had stopped and hopefully the clouds will stay away for a while. Rowan was in the spare room at Devlin’s house rummaging through the clothes she had. She was determined to try and find something nice that she could wear.
Tapping her foot on the floor as she went through the bag with a lot of puffing and cursing, her options were limited: jeans, leggings, and more jeans. Crap. A knock at the door made her jump and she threw a pair of low rides down on the bed with a huff.
“Come in!”
Ava walked through the door carrying a large garment bag. She gave an amused look at the clothes scattered all over the bed. “Och! You don’t plan to be wearing jeans and tank top to say your vows do you? Here love, a gift.”
Ava unzipped the bag in one long smooth motion. Peeling away the top cover, she pulled out what was hidden inside. A dress the color of the richest red swished out of the bag. Ava held it up and shook it loose so that the hem stretched to the ground. It was the color of dark red rubies. A low neck line, the trim was golden thread that spun in Celtic knots across the bodice. The arms were three-quarter length sleeves that flared a gold lace trim. It was simple but detailed. Ro’s mouth made an O-shape and she was completely speechless. She just gawked at the fabric and then at Ava.
“Wow Ava, this is beautiful!”
“Aye, ‘tis a gorgeous frock is it not? And today it’s yours.”
Rowan didn’t know what to say. This was so unexpected. She stared at it again and then let out a squeal. Ava laughed and helped her into the offered gown. Completing the look with a belt that hung low on her hips, Rowan felt like a princess.
Ava beamed approvingly at her, “Aye, it fits you perfect. I thought it would.” Standing back to admire the view, Ava clapped her hands to her mouth, “Och, Devlin’s going to fall flat on his face when he sees you!”
The two women squealed some more and then Ava braided Rowan’s hair. The two women stayed locked away in the bedroom until the sun started setting, signaling it was time. Before walking out the bedroom door, Ava grabbed Ro’s arm and halted her.
“Rowan, I know this has been a tough time. You’ve taken it better than most ever would. The Fate’s have a plan. I can’t see your future, but I know that without love and light, there is no future. For anyone. Devlin loves you beyond measure. I can see you feel the same about him. There is a reason you were brought together, love. You are anam cara. Soulmates.” Ava gave Rowan a kiss on the cheek. “Now let’s go watch your man turn to a puddle when he sees you.”
Smiling at their plan, the two women headed out for the garden. They had a wedding to go to.
Devlin was nervous and kept pacing. Birds were quieting and the sun was setting. He went to rake his fingers through his hair, but remembered it was pulled back in a queue. Ballocks! What if Rowan changed her mind? He’d thrown this proposal at her so fast she’d no real time to think it through. Now the wee woman was hiding in his spare bedroom and had been for hours. What if she didn’t want this? What would he do if she’s changed her mind?
“You’re making nature nervous, brother. She’ll come, don’t worry.”
Adam had just walked through the gate, a slight smile on his noble face. He was dressed in his best Sidhe finery. A high collared shirt with vines and leaves embroidered around his neck in the finest of silk, the dark green tunic fit perfectly on his broad shoulders and back. Brown leather pants, belt and a sword completed his look. Shaven head and p
eacock eyes, his skin shimmered in the setting sun. He was a wild force of nature - beautiful and fierce. It had been a long time since Adam looked like that, Devlin thought. The Sidhe has been away from his home for too long.
Adam came over and fixed the anxious Druid’s shirt. Adam was stone-faced as usual and stood back to look at his friend. “I feel like we’ve been brothers these many centuries, it’s not been easy to live the life we were given. Fighting side by side in battle and living the way we must, ‘tis a hard thing, being on your own for so long. I’m happy for you, Devlin Alistaire MacCullum.”
Devlin closed his eyes when he heard Adam say his name. He’d not heard it in so long, it felt foreign and familiar at the same time and he let out a long breath savoring it. He didn’t know when he’d ever hear it again. Devlin was named O’Connor now, and before that it was something else, and before that, something else. But tonight, he was himself. He was who he was born to be. A Highlander, a Druid, a Warrior, a MacCullum.
Shatter - Sins of the Sidhe Page 23
