Dreamweaver

by Judie Chirichello

  Galynne hugged him next.

  Gareth approached Tristan. “I'm honored to call you brother.” He held out his hand and Tristan accepted with a nod.

  Kendahl followed suit. “Son. Welcome to the family.” He clapped Tristan on the shoulders.

  “Wait a minute.” Frowning, Seerah released Galynne and advanced. “Technically, the way I'm understanding this marriage of ours. I can change me mind after one year has passed."

  “You won't.” Tristan smiled.

  “And what makes you so sure of yourself, you swaggerin’ Scot bully?"

  “Would you leave the father of your children?"

  “Nay. And if I decide to leave you, you won't get the chance to father any child of mine."

  “And, you call yourself a witch. You are already carrying our child Seerah."

  “I'm—I couldn't be.” Seerah looked down at her stomach and back up at Tristan. “Even if I was, how could you know?"

  He bent his head and kissed her soundly. When he broke the kiss her said, “I have special powers, too."

  When Seerah recovered from his passionate kiss she blushed beneath the scrutiny of her family. Then she reached up and slapped Tristan on the arm. “Och! You still mock me you soulless, wretched barbarian."

  Tristan engulfed her in his arms. “I love you too, Seerah. Me witchy, fairy-angel of a wife."

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  Epilogue

  Five years later...

  Tristan nuzzled Seerah's neck as he pulled her down beside him in their bed. “'Tis about time those demanding bairns of yours were finally off to sleep,” he murmured as he slipped her gown down her shoulders.

  Seerah giggled “Mine alone they are now? And I've never seen a bairn who's half as demanding of his mother's attention as you are of...” she blushed.

  “Your passion?” Tristan guided her to straddle his hips, then slid his hands beneath her gown and cupped her full breasts.

  “Aye,” Seerah bent to kiss him.

  Suddenly the fire in their bedroom hearth erupted. Then several small tapers lit themselves as other items, such as Seerah's hairbrush and Tristan's sandals, began floating about the room.

  “Seerah?” Tristan grumbled, his lips trailing kisses across the swell of her bosom as he eyed the floating objects.

  “'Tis na’ me. You know that I've had no use for such trickery since I gained full control of me powers and defeated the prince of darkness."

  When he saw a child's small wooden toy float past Seerah's head, he grunted. “If you are na'—then who?” he frowned.

  Seerah captured the toy in her hand. “Perhaps...” Seerah smiled and closed her eyes. “'Tis your daughter."

  Tristan's eyes grew wide. “Me—our? Kaleah? But how?"

  Seerah giggled. “Apparently your son, Darwin, is fretting and Kaleah thought to get him to cease. I let her know that Cordelia is on her way to him."

  “But ... then sh-she has...” Tristan faltered.

  “Aye, Tristan. She has the power. As will Darwin, and our next child."

  Tristan groaned, allowing his head to fall against his pillow. Then, as if the impact of Seerah's words had just impacted his brain, he blinked at her. “Our next ... ch-child?"

  “Aye,” Seerah giggled. Thinking back to the year they first met, Seerah recalled Brigit's taunts about Tristan's virility, and his own boast of having powers. “It seems as though you do have a mighty power yourself—” She shot him a come-hither glance and gyrated her hips until she could feel his arousal straining against the heat of her desire. “Flaccid member, indeed. If you were any more virile, we'd have twice as many bairns in half the time,” she teased.

  Tristan's gaze seemed to smolder as his hands roved slowly up over her legs, to her hips.

  Then, in one swift movement he relieved her of her gown and rolled her onto her back. “I may be virile, indeed, Seerah, but you—you are the enchantress of my dreams, and you alone behold the true power, me love."

  The End

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  About the Author

  Judie resides in Central Florida with her husband, two teenage children and three dogs, Molly, Scruffy and Little Guido. Her freelance articles have appeared in the Orlando Sentinel Newspaper, Atlanta Parent magazine and on a Houghton Mifflin web site for students. Her idol is the late Erma Bombeck whose humor writing influenced Judie at the tender age of nine, and her favorite authors include, Julie Garwood, Elizabeth Beverly, Teresa Medeiros, Janet Evanovich, Brad Meltzer, and Harlan Coben.

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