* * *
“Whoa! And where are you going, Your Highness?” a familiar Gaelic accent startled Breanna from her dream.
Breanna woke up cradled in Eoghan’s arms, the grey underside of her balcony greeting her as the Blood-Moon disappeared behind clouds.
“Did I…” Bre trailed off, unable to finish. She swallowed hard from the nausea creeping up her throat and pointed at the balcony.
“Jump off your balcony into my strong arms because you couldn't wait until the morning to see me?” Eoghan flashed a giant white smile, the one that always made her blush. He squeezed her tight in his arms.
As the red rushed to her cheeks, Eoghan chuckled and put her down.
“You are always there to save me,” acknowledged Bre, hiding her eyes from him, behind a curtain of her hair.
“Save you? I am the one that needs savin’. You are always attacking, kicking, punching, tackling, and stabbing me. Do I need to continue?” Eoghan jested.
“No need at all, Sir,” Breanna said and playfully pushed him.
Eoghan’s face turned serious. He pushed Bre’s brown hair behind her ears, revealing her hazel eyes flecked with gold. “Who were you this time?” he asked softly, allowing his fingertips to linger against her jaw line.
“I don’t want to talk to about it.” Bre turned away; her thick hair fell back into her face. The dreams of war and her own skin shimmering in gold startled her.
“Oh! I nearly forgot!” Eoghan exclaimed cheerfully as he searched the ground. “In your daring jump for a hug, I dropped your birthday present. Ah, here we go.”
Eoghan handed her a green rag, which she quickly unwrapped to reveal a gold Celtic knot belt buckle. Bre ran her fingers over the cool metal and burst out laughing. She reluctantly gazed into his blue eyes and saw the same lines of laughter fill his face.
“I was hoping that would make you laugh,” Eoghan chuckled. They leaned into each other, and Bre relaxed as his gruff laughter vibrated against her arm. “Anyway, happy sixteenth birthday. It’s for the one I broke while you forced me to play ‘dress-up’ on our fourteenth birthdays.”
“You tore my favorite riding dress,” Breanna said, wiping tears of laughter from her cheek.
They continued to joke about the sweet memory until the clouds cleared and the light of the Blood-Moon beamed down once again, hitting her like a starlit ray of sorrow and tears. Instantly, Breanna collapsed into Eoghan’s arms. Her mind swept away into another time…
The Phoinix: Age of Demigods Page 8
