by Mary Morgan
“He has mastered eight.”
“Let me guess. Ye plan on surpassing that number one day?”
Jamie roared in delight. “Of course.”
“Another word of warning, Jamie. Never underestimate an elder Dragon Knight.”
All humor vanished from the lad’s face. “I have great respect for my father. He is my hero and I love him. While he is the oldest, he will not lead the army against the darkness. I will. Therefore, I must excel in everything.”
The fire dragon’s power blazed all around the young Dragon Knight. Rory had questioned him about the growing darkness he had talked about, but the boy refused to offer any more knowledge.
Rory gestured outward. “Do your best, Jamie.”
The lad winked and hurled the stone across the water. Rory watched in awe as it skipped across the loch five times.
“Aye!” Jamie shouted and picked up another stone.
Rory placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Well done.”
Both continued to gaze outward at the serene setting.
“Are ye leaving?”
Rory sighed. “Aye. ’Tis time.”
The boy glanced up at him. “Be well, Fenian Warrior.”
“And ye, too.”
Releasing his hold, Rory strode quietly away. However, Jamie’s words within his mind froze him where he stood.
“When ye return to the Fae realm, give my regards to Sorcha.”
Confused by the lad’s words, he had no time to question him as Jamie ran off into the trees. Bewilderment soon turned to unease, and Rory vanished in an arc of light. As he emerged outside the hall of the Brotherhood, he composed his emotions and went on through the gilded doors.
Several warriors nodded to him in passing as he made his way to Conn’s chamber. The doors were partially open. The sound of Conn’s laughter drifted out and he froze. Never before had he heard the warrior relaxed and carefree. When he slowly approached the room, his hand gripped the handle.
Conn was nuzzling the neck of a woman and speaking words of endearment. His senses reeled as he fully stepped inside. When had he become involved with a Fae? In all his lifetime, Rory had never known the warrior to openly show affection to anyone. He kept his lovers a secret from all.
The lovely lass lifted her face, and her eyes grew wide. “We have a visitor.”
Conn half-turned. “I have been waiting for you, Rory.”
She tried to move out of Conn’s embrace, but he held her firm. “No, Ivy. It is time to introduce you to my good friend.”
Rory’s hands clenched. Friend? The air hummed of another energy not of the realm, and he found himself fighting the growing fury. Her blood was not all Fae. “Human?”
Ignoring his question, Conn placed a protective arm around Ivy’s waist. “Rory, this is…Ivy O’Callaghan. My wife.”
The room blurred and for a moment, Rory wanted to take a fist to the warrior’s face. “Explain!”
Conn arched a brow. “Of course.”
Fear showed in Ivy’s eyes, and she snuggled closer to her husband. Taking a deep breath in, Rory released it slowly. His anger was at Conn, not the stunning vision before him. After bowing his head in respect to her, he then moved forward. “Forgive me, Princess Ivy.”
Giving him a weak smile, Ivy removed herself from Conn’s embrace. She reached out and grasped his hands. “I have longed to meet you. Please call me Ivy. I hope you can find it in you to forgive Conn for his recent rude behavior. He should have spoken to you sooner.”
Conn winced and wiped a hand down the back of his neck. “Regardless, my friend has given me no time to fully divulge the details of our marriage.”
The lovely lass clucked her tongue in disapproval. “I am positive you can remedy the situation. You can also invite him to dinner this evening.”
Her smile and touch broke the anger within Rory, especially seeing the tiny human female bring out a softer side to his leader. Never before had he witnessed Conn smiling like a young lad. He lifted her hands and placed a gentle kiss across her knuckles. “I would be honored, Ivy.”
She laughed, and Rory was smitten.
“Wonderful! I will expect you later. For now, I’ll leave you to pester my husband with the many questions you have for him. I must go tend to our daughter.”
“Daughter?” he croaked and looked in bewilderment at Conn.
Ivy beamed. “Yes. She was born three months ago. You must come and see her. She has her father’s stunning eyes, unlike the lavender of the Fae women.”
“I will see you later, wife.” Conn kissed her soundly and walked her to the entrance. After softly closing the door, he motioned for Rory to take a seat.
“I believe it wiser I stand to hear everything.”
Conn shrugged and folded his arms over his chest. “You accused me once of not knowing any pain of loss. You were incorrect. You assumed I saved my life by agreeing to take my rightful place as heir to the Fae realm. Once again, you were wrong. I made a bargain to save a life. Ivy’s life. Sadly, I was unable to share this information until after your journey.” Pain showed across his features, and Conn moved to a chair.
Rory blew out a frustrated breath and sat down across from him. “What happened?”
Conn placed his hands on his thighs. “Where do I begin…”
“I’ve found it best to start at the beginning,” Rory offered.
“My crime was not what I…we did in assisting the Dragon Knights. Apparently, I made an error in an event within the timeline. Changed the course of a generation of people. I was forced to return to the present and correct the mishap in the O’Callaghan clan—Ivy’s people. Truth be told, destiny sought to bring Ivy and me together. I fell in love. Plain and simple.” Conn stood abruptly. “That mere wisp of a human lass touched my soul. Yes, I fought the love.” He sighed and clenched his hands. “When her life was threatened, and I found her near death, I brought her to the only place I knew of for healing.”
“The Fae realm,” interjected Rory.
Conn turned away. “So I made a deal with my father. A life for a life. My blood so she could live and I would remain here. I willingly gave up the Brotherhood to become Prince Conn once again.”
“But ye are the leader of the Brotherhood. What changed?”
Conn glanced over his shoulder. “After my father granted my request, Ivy healed and returned to the mortal world. Bitterness and resentment became my companions. Over time, darkness would have clouded my judgment and hardened my heart. I deem the king—with urging from the queen—sought to bring Ivy and me back together. They had no wish to see a hardened Fae rule the kingdom. As part of the agreement, I took control from the Fae council and became the leader of the Brotherhood.”
Rory stood and began to pace within the chamber. “They let ye marry a human? How many times did they speak of not tainting the Fae blood with a human? Only the creation of the Dragon Knights were permitted to have Fae blood.” He paused before the massive table and slammed his fist upon the darkened wood. “By the hounds! Look what they did to Aidan Kerrigan for taking a human wife!”
Turning around, Conn came and placed a hand on Rory’s shoulder. “Recently, I have witnessed that the Fae and seers are not always correct in their wisdom. They spout rules and edicts, but often times, they are just that. Words. Even the mighty ones are unable to fully see the path destined for a Fae or Fenian Warrior.”
And what about Erina and me? “I wished I had known,” he uttered softly.
Conn shook him gently and then released him. “Before you take your oath into the new Brotherhood, I give you permission to seek out Erina MacIntyre.”
Rory’s mouth opened in shock and words failed him.
“Do you love her, Rory?”
“Aye,” he affirmed with conviction. “With all my heart and soul.”
“Then go after her.”
Uncertainty filled him. Would she still want him? There was only way to find out and if Conn was letting him go, Rory would
not let the opportunity slip through his fingers. “Thank ye.”
As he walked to the door, Rory paused. Turning around, he asked, “Who is Sorcha?”
Conn’s expression stilled and grew serious. “My daughter. Why do you ask?”
Trying to keep the smile from forming on his mouth, he replied, “Jamie sends his regards.”
The warrior’s eyes narrowed to shards of silver. “Shit! He goes too far.”
Rory chuckled softly. “When I return, I will give ye my report on the Dragon Knight. I deem it wise to appoint a guardian immediately.” He angled his head. “Ye will have to share how he has a claim on your daughter.”
Conn grunted another curse and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “There is no such claim. I’ll send her to Abela to become a priestess and my worries will be solved. He’s as arrogant as his uncles and his father.”
Rory continued to watch the great Conn MacRoich, Prince of the Fae Realm, leader of the Brotherhood, pace along his chamber in an agitated state and continue with his rant against the young Dragon Knight.
It was a memory he imagined he would fondly recall for many years.
Chapter Thirty
“Love can bring down even the mightiest of warriors, along with assumptions.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
Lindane, Scotland, August 1607
Rory leaned against the rowan tree for support as he gazed at the cottage he knew so well. A warm summer breeze lifted the hair from the back of his neck and bees swarmed about the wildflowers growing in abundance everywhere. Erina’s cottage was the same, but the surrounding area was vastly changed. There were no sheep in her pen. The herb garden was a tangled mess, and he wondered if she had decided to remain at Kileburn. He had thought to go there first, but yearned to come to the place she called home.
However, fear kept him rooted in the shade, since he had not realized how many months had slipped through the window of time. In the Fae realm, time moved slowly, and he cursed himself for not realizing his error and misjudgment.
Hearing the soft whinny of horses, Rory moved away from the shadows. His steps led him to the side of the cottage where two horses and a cart were tethered to a post. Trunks filled the cart and he frowned. Was she leaving for Kileburn?
While their love was real, his stomach roiled with doubt, especially with the passing of so many months. Yet, he would not return without her. He would explain everything to her. Bring her to his world. Keep her safe.
A soft hum flitted by his ears, and Rory lifted his head in search of the delicate sound. Making his way down the path filled with flowers and wild grasses, he froze. There in the middle of a patch of foxgloves sat a wee lass. Butterflies danced over her head as she hummed a melody he found enchanting. Her raven hair clung to her shoulders, and he thought her to be no more than a year old. She brushed her hand over the flowers and giggled. The smile came unbidden to his face as he continued to be mesmerized by the scene.
Why was she left unattended out here? And where was her mother?
“Angelica? Where are ye sweet lass?”
Rory snapped his head at the sound of Erina calling for the wee child. His smile vanished, wiped away by astonishment. When Erina emerged from the cottage, he found himself unable to breathe. His heart slammed against his chest, and he quickly shielded himself with magic. Her beauty was even more breathtaking than he remembered. Her mass of hair more glorious as the sun shimmered off of her locks.
She took a small step forward, and he noted the limp. As he brought his hand forward to remove the cloaked veil, Rory stilled the movement. Another approached and grasped Erina’s elbow.
“Darren,” he hissed out. The air cooled, and he fought to control the rising fury.
The man gestured her toward the cart and helped her onto the seat. Rory’s heated gaze followed the guard as he moved past him and toward the small lass. Darren lifted her into the air, and she responded in laughter.
“Och, my child. There ye are.” Erina shielded her eyes.
The light of illumination pierced like an arrow to his heart. What Rory had feared had occurred. Erina had found happiness with another man, and this was their child. His world shifted beneath his feet as he watched father and daughter return to her mother’s outstretched arms. Deep anguish filled him as he stumbled backwards.
Darren reached for the reins of the horses and gave a quick snap. The cart jerked forward and proceeded to amble down the path away from the cottage.
Rory rubbed his palm over his heart in an attempt to banish the pain. Yet, it was a futile effort. No amount of time would ever heal the hurt of losing her, but at least he knew she lived.
He straightened and took a step forward, keeping his eyes on the retreating family. “Be happy Erina. I shall love ye forever, mo ghrá. Never forget.”
As if hearing his words, Erina turned in her seat and their gazes locked. In a blur of lights and tears, Rory vanished from her sight.
****
Upon entering the grove, which sat within the Brotherhood, Rory hastened across the stones. He wanted to get the ceremony done quickly and then set out on his new mission. After returning from visiting Erina, he promptly informed Conn he wished to be sent to Aonach and oversee Jamie’s training. When the warrior asked what happened, Rory’s answer was that Erina was doing well. She had married and given birth to a child. She had moved on with her life. He judged this was far better for her than a life within a realm she wouldn’t be able to comprehend.
For some insane reason, Conn called him a stubborn ass, but relented in the end.
Rory’s only request was that the initiation into the elite Brotherhood take place within a day. He had no wish to remain in this world. He sought work, training, and centuries long removed from Erina. The temptation would be far too great to check in on her, and his heart could not stand to see her in the arms of another man. Again, he considered being placed as Jamie’s guardian. Many centuries removed from Erina.
Pushing open the massive oak doors, Rory entered the ceremonial chamber. As he stepped inside, he glanced upward at the open sky. Sunlight glistened in a rainbow of colors within a vast room filled with nine giant oak trees. In the center, crystal steps led to a marble dais where the rite would take place. Many other Fenian Warriors had already arrived, and they acknowledged him in greeting.
Rory adjusted his pale blue, sleeveless tunic and made his way up the steps. Conn stood off to the side, conversing with another warrior. He nodded to both and went to approach his friend, Taran.
“I have yet to thank ye for keeping a vigil over me during my trial,” said Rory.
Taran shifted his stance. “You would have done the same for me, old friend.”
“I doubt ye would have entered the dark abyss.”
“We all falter at times, Rory. Even the greatest. I am no fool to think I shall not be tested in my lifetime.”
“Then I pray ye never have to endure any pain.”
Taran made a dismissive gesture. “If you are referring to the affairs of the heart, I can assure you I will never succumb to any.”
Saddened by the warrior’s remarks, Rory replied, “Love is the most powerful emotion, bringing ye epic joy and misery. I have nae regrets.”
A flash of annoyance briefly crossed Taran’s face. “Then I shall leave the wisdom of your words to others.”
Rory nodded and watched Taran step aside. He was truthful in his words to the warrior. He had no regrets. His love for Erina would span the cosmos. Forever.
Conn strode forward and motioned him to the center. “Are you ready?”
“Aye.”
He arched a brow at Rory’s use of language. With a snap of his fingers, a silver dagger, tipped with a green crystal, appeared magically in Conn’s hand. He turned toward the warriors gathered and they silenced their conversations. Conn stood quietly, keeping his focus on the doors.
After several moments passed, Rory became agitated. “What are we waiting for?” he whispere
d.
“We are awaiting more guests.”
Rory leaned toward him. “Most of the Brotherhood is in attendance. Is the king making an appearance?”
“No.”
Confusion settled like a cloak of nettles. “Can ye share the names of the guests?”
“No.”
“Can ye share anything?”
Three bells chimed in the distance.
“Open the doors to admit our honored guests,” Conn ordered.
Slowly, the oak doors opened and a vision of beauty stepped inside. The breath left Rory in one swoosh, and he staggered as Erina walked down the path with Ronan assisting her. The warriors gave way, each inclining their heads in reverence as she passed them. Her gaze locked with his, and he found them shining with unshed tears. Was he dreaming? Was she really here? Jubilant emotions burst within his soul, and he turned toward Conn.
“How?” he demanded in a strangled voice.
Conn nudged him forward. “Contrary to what you may believe, Erina never married. You were in error.”
“But the child?”
“Do you mean your child who is now strolling down the path?”
Rory returned his attention to the tiny lass following behind her mother. She hummed as she toddled along in merriment. And in that quiet moment, Rory’s heart surged with euphoria. His woman. His daughter. His life was walking toward him.
Leaping off the dais, he ran toward the woman who held his heart. She opened her arms for him, tears now streaming down her cheeks. Grasping her around the waist, Rory crushed her against his chest.
“Rory,” she uttered on a choked sob.
“Erina.” His lips came crashing down upon her sweet mouth. The kiss sang through his veins, healing the ache and weariness of loss. He stole the breath from her sigh and gave it back mingled with his own. His emotions whirled and skidded as he deepened the kiss. Never did he believe he could hold her within his arms again or feel the touch of her skin against his own. The satiny softness of her lips pressed to his.
He broke free and leaned his forehead against hers. “Ye are truly here, mo ghrá. How?”
She gave him a glowing smile. “I had a visit from a Fenian Warrior.”
