Forbidden Fate (Sisters of Danu Book 1)

by Mia Pride

  “Nay. Nothing is too much for you, Una. This pin has been passed down in my family from daughter to daughter for generations. It is rumored to have once belonged to Banba, one of the three goddesses of the Tuatha de Danann. Until you came to me thirteen summers ago, I had nay daughter. Now I do.” A small tear formed in the corner of Isleen’s eye and Una bit her lower lip, desperate to hold back the well of emotions flowing through her.

  Losing the battle, Una lunged her small frame against Isleen and wrapped her in a strong embrace as a bubble of emotion slid up her throat. “Besides…” Isleen loosened Una’s grip on her and took her hand in hers. “You may very well become my daughter, in truth, one day.”

  The sly smile Isleen flashed Una sent a chill up her spine. She could only mean one thing, yet it was impossible. Brocc used to tug on her plait and tease her about her gangly legs when they were younger, but in the past three years, he had either completely ignored her, or stared at her as if she had porridge on her face. Nay, he had no interest in his awkward foster-sister. She was there to help make his meals and sew his torn tunics, nothing more.

  Una couldn’t help but let an unladylike chortle escape from her nose. “Surely you jest. Why, Brocc has a bevy of admirers following him about at all times. Certainly he would prefer a woman willing to stroke his ever-growing ego.” She laughed uncomfortably, trying to hide the torrent of emotions running through her at the thought of marrying Brocc. It would be the fruition of all she had ever hoped for, but she would never, ever, admit that to anyone. He had a new love interest in his lap every time she turned around. Only by pretending he didn’t exist and staying busy, had she successfully hidden her true feelings for him.

  She ran a hand through the tangled mess of her wavy hair and grimaced. She was a mess and nothing more. Looking up at Isleen’s keen eyes, she saw them twinkle with mischief. “One never knows what is going on in the mind of a man. Perhaps I misjudged his intentions.” With a nonchalant shrug, Isleen began to walk away and said over her shoulder, “Go on now, Una. Ready yourself for the festivities. I’ve laid out the perfect dress for you tonight. It should go well with your new hair pin.” Isleen’s shoulders seemed to square with pride and her hips had extra bounce to them as she sauntered out of the front door and into the kitchen garden to gather fresh vegetables.

  Isleen had lost her mind. Una was certain of it. She starred at her reflection in the bronze looking glass. Her hair was finely combed and a few locks were held back in her new lovely pin. Isleen had been right about one thing, at least. The dress she chose for Una was a lovey shade of purple that accentuated, not only the twinkling pin in her hair, but her green eyes as well, making them sparkle even more brilliantly. Its long sleeves hung below her wrists elegantly and the linen fabric of the bodice clung to her curves and flowed gracefully past her waist and over her ankles. A chain belt hung neatly about her hips, adding the final touch to the dress that Una was certain was much too nice for a woman of her station.

  She sighed as she walked toward the entrance of the home, her ears already filling with the loud contagious laughter of her tuath and the music coming from the trumpets outside. The festival was well on its way and never did the people shy away from a reason to drink ale by the barrel and share stories. No doubt a bard had arrived to recite poems and share news of neighboring tuatha.

  Una’s nose scrunched up as the smoke from the many burning fires assaulted her nose and burned her eyes. Squinting into the crowd, she walked forward and searched the perimeter for any sign of her mother. Though her mother’s home was not far, it seemed far too long since she had been able to break away from her chores to visit her. A sudden sense of guilt washed over Una as she continued to squint through the haze and drown out the bawdy laughter. In truth, she would prefer to avoid these festivities if not for Isleen’s constant pressure to attend. She would rather use this time to sit in a quiet corner with her weakening mother.

  Attending seemed useless. Years had passed and Una hadn’t made so much as one female friend and had not attracted any suitors. At eighteen, she was three years past the age when most lasses married and started families. But marriage and children would have to wait, for as long as her mother may need her assistance, she could never split her time between a family and her dear mama.

  Smacking abruptly into a very tall and sturdy body, Una screeched as her backside hurled toward the muddy ground. Just when she was certain to fall and soil her new dress, a strong hand reached down and yanked her up by the arm, squeezing tighter than a band of iron. She yelped in pain as her body stopped in midair and began to fly forward again, crashing into the strong chest attached to the arm pulling her up. The chest began to rumble with laughter as she instinctively wrapped her arms around it to steady herself. “Easy now.”

  Oh, nay. She knew that voice. Looking up from the chest to the face of the man, she found herself staring up into the playful hazel eyes of Brocc Mac Greine. Not knowing whether to swoon or curse, Una released her hold on his waist and silently straightened the hair pin that was now bobbing loosely upon her head. “Th-thank you for catching me,” she mumbled, hoping he could not hear the increase in her breathing.

  “Nay, thank you, Una, for crashing into me.” Confusion ran through her body as she looked up at his sideways smile. Una knew exactly what Brocc was doing. He was well aware that every lass in the tuath would bend to his will if only he flashed that charming smile with one dimple showing through the stubble of his strong jaw. It affected her just the same as it did all the other besotted lassies, mayhap even more so, but she would rather sink down into a bottomless bog than ever let Brocc know that his smile made her heart quicken and her breath catch. He would never know that her head became lightheaded and his dimpled cheeks haunted her dreams.

  Oh, nay. She was not immune to his charm, or the effects of his smile, but she refused to play his fool. Too many women had hoped to claim Brocc Mac Greine as their own, and too many had failed, being left as nothing more than empty shells of their former selves. She would not join their ranks.

  Crossing her arms and clearing her throat, she looked away and feigned annoyance. “Have you seen my mother? I was looking for her when I---“

  “Barreled into me?” One cocky black brow rose up higher than the other as he stared down at her.

  “Aye. I’m sorry for that. Tis all the smoke. I cannot see beyond my nose.” Una coughed and swung her hand in front of her face, but the billowing smoke was relentless. Her eyes began to burn as smoke choked her lungs.

  “Let me get you away from all of this smoke.” Una could feel Brocc’s strong warm hand grip hers as he pulled her away.

  “It would seem improbable, what with all these fires,” Una croaked and coughed once more.

  “Aye. Let us go back into the house. I wish to speak with you. Alone.”

  Una’s brows furled at his words, but he wasn’t looking as he dragged Una through the crowded dirt path filled with revelers, seemingly determined to get her back inside with haste.

  “Brocc, I really must find my mother.” Why was he acting so strangely? He had not spoken to her in so long, it seemed quite odd that he was suddenly so keen.

  “I will help you find her as soon as we speak.” The determined tone of his voice brooked no argument, so she gave none as he led her back to his home and all but pushed her through the entrance ahead of him.

  Once inside, Una tugged her hand out of Brocc’s, but he held firm, only gripping it harder. “What is this about Brocc? Is all well?”

  “Aye,” he breathed as he looked down upon her, his chest rising and falling as if over-exerted. Yet, the braw warrior was surely not tired from such a short walk. He was staring down at her in silence, as if forgetting that he was in a hurry to speak to her just a moment ago.

  “Brocc?” Why was he not speaking? “What is amiss?”

  His throat cleared and he briefly licked his lips nervously before preparing to speak. “You look lovely tonight.” His hand reached
up and stroked her soft chestnuts curls against her neck. “I see my mother gave you your gift?”

  He knew Isleen was gifting the hair clip to her? That hardly seemed a detail Brocc would ever show any interest in at all. “Aye. It was far too generous.” She reached up to run her fingers against the smooth surface of the purple gems. “I really don’t deserve it.”

  “Nay. Of course you do, Una. You are as close to a daughter as she will ever have.” His eyes grew softer, as did his grip on her hand. A nervous smile spread across his lips as his voice wavered. “It would make me happy if you would become her daughter in truth. Will you marry me?”

  The room began to spin as her knees gave way and her heart stuttered in her chest. What had he just said? She must have misunderstood. “Pardon? I’m not sure I understand…” his hands slipped around her waist as she began to feel herself fall. Why could she not breath? It was as if all the air in the home suddenly disappeared and she was suffocating.

  Holding her tightly against him, he lowered his face to hers, as if readying himself to steal a kiss. “Is this really such a surprise, Una? You have lived in my home for thirteen summers and yet, I never thought of you as my foster-sister. It is not possible. You are much too lovely to be any sister to me.”

  His lips began to lower to hers and she wanted to lean into him, to finally know what it would feel like to have his lips on hers. Instead, Una pulled away abruptly. “Brocc, you have every lass at your feet---“

  “I do not want them.” He pulled her closer.

  “You do not want me. I am nothing. I-I have nothing.” She pulled back, but he only pulled her in again.

  “That is not true. You have my family. You will have me and our children…”

  “Our…what? Brocc, I-I just do not know what to say. You never speak to me.” Her hands were shaking and she tried to steady them by clutching at her skirt. Was this some cruel jest? Was he testing her to see if she would agree, only so he could then laugh in her face and tug on her hair as he used to?

  “How does one speak to the sun?” Brocc whispered against her ear, making her feel as if she would swoon at any moment. Isleen had been correct. Brocc had been planning this. It was Beltane and if she agreed, he would have the druid perform a handfasting! It was all too much and just as she was about to say so, loud boots stormed into the room, knocking them both out of the moment.

  “Una.” The voice was abrasive, yet filled with concern as her gaze sought out the source. Brocc’s father stood in the doorway looking as imposing as ever, and strangely, not at all shocked to see Brocc holding Una so close to his body. Had Neil known, as well?

  Neil looked just like Brocc, only twenty years his senior with large fur pelts draped over chest, displaying his high rank within the tuath. As intimidating as Neil was, his kind eyes could always give away his gentle nature. At the moment, however, those eyes were filled with worry, which only added to Una’s shaken nerves. “Una, tis your mother. She has taken quite ill. You must go to her now.”

  Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped, swerving still from all of the new emotions drumming through her veins. Through the haze suddenly clouding her mind, Una thought she heard Brocc say, “I will take her.” He grabbed her hand and swiftly guided her out of the room.

  Once again, she was thrust into the wall of smoke from the fires, but the voices and music swam in the background of her mind, as if she wasn’t fully there. If not for the firm guidance of Brocc’s hand, she would have floated away into an oblivion of confusion.

  About the Author

  Mia is a full time wife and mother of two rowdy boys, residing in the SF Bay Area. As a child, she often wrote stories about fantastic places or magical things, always preferring to live in a world where the line between reality and fantasy didn’t exist.

  In High school she entered writing contests and had some stories published in small newspapers or school magazines. As life continued, so did her love of writing. So one day, she decided to end her cake decorating business, pull out her laptop and fulfill her dream of writing and publishing novels. And she did.

  When Mia isn’t writing books or chasing her sweaty children around a park, she loves to drink coffee by the gallon, get lost in a good book, hike with her family and drink really big margaritas with her friends!

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