by Scott, Amber
If only her visions had shown her the face of the human betrayer. Someone of her world had been colluding with the sidhe sorcerer of Ailyn’s world. He bore the crescent mark on his throat.
In her vision this morn, using her scrying mirror, she saw Quinlan reveal the mark as he pushed and struggled against the other man. Much was familiar about the man who held Quinlan by the throat, but not enough of the vision came through to allow Breanne certainty. It was a blur. All she could feel was Quinlan’s desperation for air, for help to come. Fear overwhelmed her. Fear and determination to keep something hidden at all costs. What was Quinlan hiding?
“Breanne?!” Danny’s voice penetrated her spinning thoughts.
She realized that she was doubled over. The contraction had conjured the vision again. Straightening up now that the pain eased, but also knowing she hadn’t much time, she pinned Danny with a hard stare.
“Find them, Danny. You put them there; now release them, ’ere it’s too late.”
“They’re sealed in, Breanne.”
“Unseal them.”
A loud pounding interrupted Danny’s forthcoming question. Rose barreled into the room, a basket of linens on one hip, and a jug on the other. “Danny, lad. What are you doing here? Off with you, now.”
“I’ll be needing but another moment, Rose.” Danny shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “In fact, I’ll be asking you for priv—”
“Hah! I’ll be hearing that one after you carry a child in your womb, and then push it out into the world for twenty hours, Danny O’Donnell. There’s naught you’ve got to say that canno’ wait until this babe arrives. Now, off with you.”
Having set down her burdens, Rose had no qualms about shoving Danny out the door.
Breanne couldn’t stop her even if she wanted to. Another contraction hardened her belly, a deep wave of pain that spread down her legs and around her back. Her tension of fear for Quinlan eased, though. Danny would find them. He would do as she’d asked. Among the few people she could trust, she counted on her brother. She also counted on Rose.
“There now, Bree,” Rose said, taking her by the shoulders. “Come lie down. Or do you have the urge to sit instead, love?”
“Sit,” Breanne said, holding on to her ample-bodied friend. Gratitude filled her as Rose positioned her on the corner of the bed so that her legs straddled each side.
“Lean forward a bit. How’s that?”
Breanne nodded. “Better, aye.” This time, as the contraction began, the pain was far less intense. Instead, she felt a sense of pressure more. She sighed her relief, barely noting the thud of a door in the main hall.
“That’ll be your husband,” Rose said.
Breanne nodded, hoping Rose was wrong and that it was Danny leaving. If she could lean out the window. … “Apprise Ashlon, will you, Rose?”
Rose narrowed her eyes. “Will you be up to something if I do, Bree? Or do you give me your word you’ll stay put?”
Her friend knew her too well. “I promise.” Truth be told, she only did so because another contraction was building. This one hurt unlike the others. This one made her moan.
“Do you promise on our friendship, Breanne? On the very life about to greet us?”
Breanne rolled her eyes. “Aye, Rose,” she gasped. “Now please go. Check.” She suddenly missed her mother very much. She longed to have her there to make it all okay. Though she knew better, she hoped Ashlon had been able to bring Una.
“None of that wailing and moaning, either,” Rose said as she strode to the door. “A quiet birth is what we’ll be having. One filled with love and peace.”
Breanne would have snorted had she the wherewithal, remembering full well just how ear-piercing each of Rose’s births had been. Rose shut the door after her, leaving Breanne in the grip of a contraction. Sweat broke over her skin, beading her forehead. She hadn’t the ability to wipe the droplets away, though. A trickle slid down her nose.
Not sweat, she realized. Blood. Not hers, either, she knew. Another’s blood. The vision slammed down upon her. The deep wave of pain in her echoed in the other, the one she now saw through. The sweat trickled as blood. A low humming surrounded her. A whirring noise. Heat. Flames.
Where was she? The rite. Tonight’s rite.
Who was she? Quinlan?
Nay. This was a woman. The deep pain in Breanne’s abdomen echoed in the woman’s. Her own prayers for her babe’s health and well-being rang louder in the other woman’s.
This was Maera?
Aye. She saw as Maera, and knew she feared for the babe in her belly. Colm’s babe. Where was Colm? Where was Ailyn? This was not what had been promised her. To save her mother, her kingdom, she had cooperated. Only to be betrayed.
Breanne looked down and around through Maera’s eyes, searching for signs of those she knew and loved among the fire and shadows. Naught but painted bodies and faces greeted her through the dark, though, until one came into sharp focus. The mask of a bull on a man with a large, naked barrel chest. He walked toward her, chanting louder and louder. She wanted to put her hands up, but they were tied behind her. To something wooden. A tree? The rough bark confirmed it. She wriggled her wrists, scraping her skin. The blood droplet tickled her nose. The wound it came from throbbed. Her stomach cramped. The masked man loomed closer. He held an arm out, showing her something dangling from his fingers.
Breanne cared less for the necklace. She was far more concerned about the deep blue stone in his hand. By Morrigan, no other object glowed like that except the bloodstone. How had they found it? Warm, wet fluid streamed down her legs.
The door shut, and Breanne’s attention snapped back into the room.
“I swear, you’ll be the death of me, Bree,” Rose admonished. “You promised to stay put. Look at you!”
Breanne had managed to get atop the bed and stand up. Her arms reached forward. Recognizing how precarious a position it was for a person in her state, Breanne gladly took her friend’s offered hands.
“Was Danny gone, then? Is my mother coming?”
Rose eased her back into the sitting position she’d left her in, nodding. “Danny is gone. I made sure of it.”
“But my mother?” Disappointment hit her.
“She’s a bit tired, is all. Sir Ashlon said Niall promised to bring her once she rose from her rest.”
“Ah, Rose. I dinna know what to think of Niall’s excuses of late. Either he’s hiding her to manage her, or she’s truly not well.”
“I dinna ken it either, Bree. What I do know is that he loves her to distraction. And what else I do know is that you’ll be having this baby sooner than later. Your water broke, love. It’s almost time.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Ailyn saw distress pass over his face. How had her pendant found its way here? How could they remain safe or concealed? Were they no longer safe and concealed? “Kristoph.”
Quinlan did not speak. He bent and retrieved the necklace. Its glow faded in his palm as he handed it back to her. “No, lass. Your sorcerer hasna found us.”
“Then how?” She took the small stone, pressing it to her chest. The glow disappeared, leaving only shadows. Only dawn’s first rays penetrated the cavern.
He squared his shoulders in the fading light. “I found it at the pond whilst you and Daniel spoke.” He drew a ragged breath. “I kept it from you.”
Ailyn placed the chain around her neck. “I should be angry, I suppose. But I ken why you would do so. You mean to protect me. At every turn, you aim to protect me.”
He stepped forward. “Aye, lass. I regret deceiving you, though.”
There was no relief in his tone, though. “There is more, isn’t there?”
Had his eyes clouded over, or was that her imagination, her mind filling in his features in the darkness? He took her hand and pulled her closer. “There is always more.”
She almost smiled, feeling the length of him so near. But something within moved her to resist. “Dinna tease, Qui
nlan. Dinna mask the truth from me with your charm. Not this time.”
His smile fell. He squeezed her hand, and then led her to the mouth of the cave. He faced her, his expression stormy. Seemingly searching for words, naught but the sounds of the sea filled the air. The chill breeze fingered through her hair. Heat flashed in her chest. The heat of dread. She wouldna like what he would say. She could feel it. But there was nowhere to run. Or hide. Even if there were, she had to hold her ground. Her liege, her brother, needed her to be the fighter they thought her to be. Strong, brave, capable.
She felt none of these things, but certainly hearing whatever dooming words were to come marked a first step toward living up to her heritage and training.
His expression nigh pained, Quinlan reached for her. He wove his fingers into her hair and drew her close. His hard body pressed against hers.
“Just tell me, Quin.”
“I haven’t the words to make what I know understood, Ailyn.” He grazed her cheek with his thumb. “But I will show you, if you will allow me.”
Her throat trembled. Ailyn swallowed against the flutter, sending it racing down her belly.
His eyes on hers, he leaned down, tipping her head up. He kissed the tip of her nose, closing his eyes, furrowing his brow. Ailyn closed her eyes as his mouth moved to kiss one shut lid, then the other. His hand splayed over her lower back, pressing her closer.
Her heart could not take any more tenderness. If he held her close even a moment longer, she would be lost to an emotion she did not trust. An emotion that drove men to commit awful acts. An emotion that had stolen her mother’s inner light, once lost.
Love.
She wanted a lifetime free of the anguish, the joys, and the fears that love wrought. “I canno’, Quinlan.” Her hands found his chest, and though they longed to wind around his neck, she forced them to push instead. “I should never have succumbed to my attraction for you. I’ll not marry you. I’ll not stay in this world.”
“You doubt what we shared? Is that it, Ailyn?”
“I harbor no doubts, Quinlan,” she lied. “I know what we shared. But had magick not seduced us, I also know we would not be tempted so readily now.”
“You would rather believe what we shared wasna of our own free will?” He released her, albeit reluctantly.
Everything within her warned her to take care with her words. She meant no insult to him. What they had shared went beyond any pleasure she could have guessed existed. “I make no claims on free will. I only know that an enchantment such as that we experienced makes refusal nigh impossible. There is no room for clear thinking.”
“You believe a spell fell upon us?”
Thankfully, he sounded curious more than offended. Perhaps what he meant to share with her wasna the fate-altering news she had sensed coming. “Do you not? Did it not feel as though time itself suspended, Quin? That canno’ be real.”
“Can’t it be real, Ailyn? Do you not ken, lass? That spell wasna sent from your sorcerer. You made that magick. You and I.” He pulled her back to him, his hands cupping her face. His breathtaking eyes nigh consumed her with their intensity.
“I’ll not be manipulated by such forces.” She refused to be tricked into hoping that what they shared was destined. To hope such things courted the steep likelihood of a crushing loss. If they made love again, she would certainly lose her heart to him forever.
“Are you of a mind that I would never have made love to you if not for the forces surrounding us?”
Emotion nigh choked her. She wanted to believe otherwise, but simultaneously feared believing otherwise. Better to decide the magick had taken over. “I wish it were not true, Quinlan, but I am not of the blood that beckons mag—”
He pressed his mouth down upon hers, kissing her hard this time. She pushed away from him, breaking his hold, separating their bodies. “You canno’ kiss the truth away, Quin.”
“Nay, I canno’. But I can prove my words. What do you fear, Ailyn? That our joining conjures an enchantment more powerful than anything either of our worlds has witnessed?”
“I fear that, aye,” she shot back. “I fear the magick. I fear losing my heart because of it. I fear feeling shattered when I must walk away from you. Because I will walk away. I must.”
“Nay, you fear that I could not possibly love you simply for you, lass.”
His words hit her with raw power. She retreated from the cave mouth. He took her hand, stopping her. “Ailyn, I vow to see you through this. If you need me to shut my heart’s desires away, I will. Dinna walk away, though. Stay.”
A well of grief and joy strangled her. It swelled through her, drowning reason. Against her better judgment, when he tugged her back to him, she followed. When his lips met hers, she matched each kiss. When his passion loosened upon her, she released her tight hold on her own. This was madness. She would regret such madness for all her days, to be sure, but she couldna deny it.
To deny it would be more wrong; however, it was more dishonesty than she could live with.
“Aye, lass,” he murmured against her throat. “Let me show you. I’ll give the world for the chance to show you my love.”
Stronger, fiercer than the waves crashing against the jagged surface below, Ailyn’s final hold on the thick wall of protection she’d long ago built around her heart crumbled. She held onto Quinlan’s shoulders, hungrily matching his every lick, nip, and tease.
She had told herself she was merely curious. Then he had satisfied her curiosity and kissed her.
She had told herself it was merely magick. Now he proved that this surpassed enchantments.
Nay, not surpassed. Invoked. The same sparkling sensation from before at the pond’s mossy bank began a tingling trail up her arms and down her thighs. Quinlan’s hands cupped her breasts. The tingles followed. Her nipples hardened. As did his body, proof of his desire pressed her pelvis. A thrill raced through her. He wanted her. Needed her. He might even love her.
Nay, she’d not think of love. She’d not permit her fears to pierce this wondrous, intoxicating bliss. She wished instead for what they shared to push reality away. Quinlan fulfilled her wish, trailing hot kisses down her neck and over her collarbone, murmuring her name like a prayer.
Ailyn, Ailyn.
He pulled her tunic off, capturing a nipple in his mouth as he lifted her to straddle his waist. Unfalteringly, he knelt to the ground, keeping her at his hips. His erection bulged against her, leaving no question as to his passion for her. One arm held her steady as the other encouraged the rest of her clothes off. His mantle became a shroud around them against the chill wind of the arriving day.
The briny air whipped around them. His earthy scent enveloped her senses. Her ache for him built deep within her, coiling tighter and tighter. It became like a hunger, demanding more. She adjusted her legs so that her sex found his flesh. The shock of finding his prick uncovered quickly dissipated behind the delicious feel of his silky shaft against her wet sex.
“Christ, lass, you’re heaven itself.” He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, panting. “Dinna wriggle so much, or you’ll undo me here and now.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but a deep sense of power filled her. She felt beautiful, strong, and vulnerable all at once. A strand of gold light swept through the air, circling above his head. Ailyn fully opened her eyes, gasping. Quinlan’s head drew back. He looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes. Her body throbbed. His handsomeness nigh devastated her heart. To find such honor, such strength and tenderness beneath such beauty was a rare gift, to be sure.
An impish grin spread over his face. “D’you see it, too, lass?”
She nodded, the strands of gold thickening around them. The tingling power pulsed in the air.
“We make magick, you and I,” he said. Holding his gaze to hers, he positioned his body to hers. The restraint clear in his every move, he slowly slid into her, gasping. His hand fisted in her hair, pulling it as his shaft buried into her deepmost part.
>
Exquisite pleasure ricocheted through her. “Quinlan,” she moaned. She had no more words and trusted her plea for more to show in her eyes.
One hand held to her hair. The other held her hip, squeezing, directing her up and down his thick, hard length. Pleasure stroked through her again and again, gathering, spreading, and coalescing. The golden hue surrounded them, ebbing to pink and violet. Ailyn held his shoulders, following his movements, driving her hips onto his harder and harder, again and again. She chased the sweet promise of release closer and closer, all the while wanting it to last.
As did he, she surmised, when he stopped her hips a moment. He shut his eyes as though in pain. Aye, waiting was painful, as was the thought of this ecstasy ending. She liked keeping reality at bay. She thrilled over this unknown world that their bodies created. She did not want it to end. Yet the craving nagged her so deeply. And his prick felt so, so delectable inside her. She tipped her hips forward. A spasm shot through her, making her cry out his name again. “Quin, I canno’—”
He opened his eyes, his gaze fierce, nearly angry. He stilled her hips. Inside her, his body throbbed. “I am yours, lass. Let no one make you doubt what you mean to me. Swear it to me.”
“I swear it,” she said, another splash of pleasure washing through her.
“Say the words, Ailyn. I am yours.”
“You are mine, Quinlan,” she swore and meant it to the depths of her soul. “And I am yours.”
Satisfaction spread over his face. He pulled her hips forward, sliding out of her. In. Out again. Hot, wet, and so fantastically hard that nothing could stop her body from attempting to swallow him into her. Climax spiraled through her. Her body gripped onto his prick again and again.
He released a guttural moan through clenched teeth, his fingers nigh hurting her in their grip as he shot his seed into her. Releasing her hair and hips, he wrapped his arms around her. He buried her face in her neck, kissing her here and there.
