“Oh?” I teased, “And what is that?”
Cade pushed his fingers through my hair, gently removing the pins and letting my dark curls fall free. He moved one hand to the spot behind my shoulder, then trailed his fingers to the edge of the fabric of my dress and carefully started unhooking the clasps that ran down my back. I gasped as he bent to kiss my neck, the heat of his mouth searing my skin and sending my glamour dancing.
“Your heart,” he murmured, getting the last hasp unhooked, so the top half of my dress fell to my waist.
Cade moved his hand and placed it over my heart, lifting his gaze back to mine. His eyes were so dark, but they burned with an intensity I liked to think had only ever been seen by me.
“Your soul,” he continued, moving his hands to my hips and pushing my dress down even farther.
I didn’t like the feel of fabric against my bare skin, so I followed his lead, unbuttoning his jacket and then pulling the hem of his shirt from the waistband of his kilt. Cade helped by stepping back an inch, so I could free him completely of his coat, then the shirt.
As soon as both were gone, I moved back toward him, eager to feel his hot skin against mine. I could have stood there all night pressed against him like that, tracing my fingers over the ridges of his muscles and following the lines of his tattoos, but there was so much more to do, to feel, to enjoy. This was by no means a new experience for the two of us, but there was something different about tonight: the low hum of magic surrounding us, the soft white and gold glow of fae lights, the gentle melody of flowing water, the wonderful fragrance of the Weald’s wildflowers in full bloom … All those things added to the mood, of course, but the truth of it was, I had found my soul mate, my faeleahn, and we were sharing our first night together as a bonded couple, as husband and wife.
I grinned like an idiot as Cade, who had suddenly become single-minded in his actions, slid the rest of my dress down my legs, so it gathered around my feet like a sapphire pool of silk. For a few moments, I stood there unashamed and glowing as Cade raked his eyes over me. Never, in all my life, did I feel so beautiful except for when Cade looked at me like that. I studied him in return, his face with its perfect, masculine lines, his green, changeable eyes, his dark chestnut hair, his well-conditioned arms and chest. I let my eyes linger on the scars he had received throughout his life, taking extra care to admire his intricate tattoos as I had wanted to do only moments before. I even spent time regarding the one on his pectoral muscle that branded him as the Morrigan’s slave. Former slave, I reminded myself. He never had to be that person again. I could have stood there and soaked in the sight of him in that kilt all night, but there was more I wanted to see. So much more.
Stepping forward with a boldness I never knew I possessed before meeting this Faelorehn man, I reached out and loosened the clasps on his kilt. Cade was just as eager as I was, helping me with the stubborn buttons until we were both completely free of any more restrictions, like two wild nymphs of the forest.
Cade moved quickly, bending to scoop me up into his arms. I squealed and started laughing, trying to get him to put me down. He complied, toppling us both over onto the pile of pillows below our makeshift bower. I sighed when he settled his weight over me, stretching both our arms above my head.
“Well, Lady MacRoich,” he growled softly, “how shall we start the rest of our lives?”
He lay still above me, not moving an inch, while he waited for my reply.
Trying not to laugh and ruin the moment, I bit my lip and contemplated his question. I could have answered that in a number of ways, but at the moment, I thought the less time we spent talking, the better. After all, he had only guaranteed one night alone, and I was ready to make good use of what time we had left.
“How about like this?” I asked.
Cade waited for me to continue, his gaze growing puzzled when I didn’t respond right away. I took advantage of his moment of uncertainty and moved, shoving against him just enough to push him over. Now I leaned above him, his hands pinned back by mine, my hair falling in a curtain of dark curls.
“I believe,” I purred, pouring as much seduction into my voice as I could, “it’s my turn to take charge, don’t you think?”
I leaned down and kissed him, nipping his bottom lip on the way back up. The fire in his eyes was enough to make my bones melt. Without trying to free his arms, he looked up at me and gave a lazy smile.
“Now that, Lady MacRoich,” he practically crooned, his voice deep and sensual, “is a most marvelous idea.”
After that, the night blended into an endless series of one breathtaking sensation after another. Cade and I were no longer two people with separate hearts, souls and spirits. We molded our bodies together, fused our spirits and knitted our souls so completely, I wasn’t sure we would ever be able to move without the other being pulled along. As the stars wheeled above our heads, we reveled in each other’s company, counting all of our blessings and vowing, again and again, that no matter what came our way down the road, we would face it together.
~*~
Continue the adventures with Lorehnin - A Novel of the Otherworld!
Find all Jenna’s books at AMAZON
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Monica Castagnasso, my editor, for all that you do to help polish my paragraphs, wax my words and streamline my sentences. I would also like to thank my Faeleahn beta readers: Stephanie Brady, Katrina Curry, Becky Dillingham, Melanie Kucharik, Jodi Moore and Kim Nidiffer, for always making time in your busy schedules to give me important feedback regarding my novels and novellas. And, as always, a resounding Thank You to my readers. Without your support I would not be where I am today. May the wild Spirit of Eile always send blessings your way.
About the Author
Jenna Elizabeth Johnson grew up and still resides on the Central Coast of California, the very location that has become the set of her novel, Faelorehn, and the inspiration for her other series, The Legend of Oescienne.
Miss Johnson has a degree in Art Practice with an emphasis in Celtic Studies from the University of California at Berkeley. She now draws much of her insight from the myths and legends of ancient Ireland to help set the theme for her books.
Besides writing and drawing, Miss Johnson enjoys reading, gardening, camping and hiking. In her free time (the time not dedicated to writing), she also practices the art of long sword combat and traditional archery.
For contact information, visit the author’s website at:
www.jennaelizabethjohnson.com
Other books by this author:
The Legend of Oescienne Series
The Finding (Book One)
The Beginning (Book Two)
The Awakening (Book Three)
Tales of Oescienne - A Short Story Collection
*Read excerpts of these books here*
The Otherworld Series
Faelorehn (Book One)
Dolmarehn (Book Two)
Luathara (Book Three)
Ehriad - A Novella of the Otherworld (Book Four)
Ghalien – A Novel of the Otherworld (Book Five)
Lorehnin – A Novel of the Otherworld (Book Six)
Caelihn – A Novel of the Otherworld (Book Seven)
Faeleahn – A Novel of the Otherworld (Book Eight)
*Read excerpts of these books here*
Connect with Me Online:
Twitter: @AuthorJEJohnson
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjejohnson
My Website: http://www.jennaelizabethjohnson.com/
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/authorjejohnson/
Instagram: http://instagram.com/authorjejohnson
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/authorjejohnson
*For news regarding book releases, giveaways and author appearances, be sure to sign up for my newsletter HERE*
Now read an excerpt from the first book in the Otherworld Trilogy, Faelorehn:
From Chapter Six – Encounter …
Suddenly, without warning, the scenery changed and I was standing in my back yard. The moon was nearly full so its silver light cast long reaching shadows as it splintered through the silent trees.
I heard the near quiet huff of an exhaled breath and I glanced up from my self-examination. A great white dog was standing on the edge of my backyard, his ears perked forward and his black eyes watching me. He was as still as the night but somehow I knew he was beckoning me. I moved toward him and he turned and descended down the steep slope that led into the swamp below.
I knew I should have stayed put, but it was only a dream and I had absolutely no control of myself. I followed him without a second thought.
The leaves and branches crunched beneath my feet as I tried to keep up with the specter-like dog. Thank goodness he was so huge or else I might have lost him. Had it been a moonless night, he’d be easy to spot, but his pale color nearly blended in with the white pools of light.
He led me farther along a trail, one I was familiar with; the same one where I was chased by a pack of warty gnomes just the day before. We walked for five or ten minutes, my spirit dog always staying twenty feet ahead and never looking back. Finally, the slowly descending trail ended and the dog took a sudden left, cutting across the small land bridge that split the lowest part of the bog. I followed him, eyeing the willows and oaks forming a dark, leafy bower overhead.
I ended up on the other side of the marsh, very close to the place where my friends and I had had our Samhain gathering the night before. A tall mix of eucalyptus and oak trees spread off to my right and the other section of the swamp continued far into the distance. Just off the main trail I spotted the small clearing where we had gathered. In the center of the clearing sat the dog, right where our bonfire had been, waiting silently for me to approach. I moved forward, my hand outstretched. Even sitting down, his shoulders came up to my waist.
Just as I placed my hand on his scraggly head, I woke up.
I was standing, in my nightgown, in the middle of the swamp behind my house. At first I was confused. Was this another part of my dream? But the sharp itch of a mosquito taking advantage of my bare arm brought me to my senses. I slapped the insect away, but my confusion was quickly being replaced by panic. Did I really sleepwalk from my room down into the swamp? I must have, how else could I have gotten here, barefoot, without a jacket, and standing upright no less?
I pulled my arms close to fight the chill and quickly darted my eyes from side to side. There is nobody here, I told myself, stay calm Meghan. But it didn’t help. I tried to tell myself that the moonlight was bright enough to light my way home, and that the only thing in the swamp that I should fear were the mosquitoes. Unfortunately, I had seen some weird things in this swamp during the last few days, and I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be any better at night.
I took a tentative step forward and felt the sharp bite of a stick. Chewing my lip and cursing silently, I tried another, gentler step.
A low growling sound in the bushes behind me caught my attention. I stiffened and felt my blood freeze. It didn’t sound like any dog I’d ever heard and I knew that we occasionally got black bears in the swamp. I tried hard to put that thought out of my mind. Unfortunately, in order to do that my memory decided right then and there to conjure up the images of the gnomes again. Would I be able to see them in the moonlight if they started coming after me?
The growling intensified and the snapping of twigs and rustle of leaves told me that there was more than one of whatever it was I was hearing. I cursed for real this time, something I rarely did. I glanced over my shoulder, back into the thick brush that lined the far edge of the wetlands. That was when I completely lost it. I knew animal eyes tended to glow orange or green if they were caught by your headlights or a flashlight, but only when the light hit them. Within the dark bushes I spotted several pairs of eyes, glowing continuously in the strangest shade of violet I had ever seen. I blinked to clear my eyes, hoping it was a result of my delirium from sleepwalking and the strange silvery light of the moon. I was wrong, as usual. There really were violet eyes staring back at me, at least five pairs.
Swallowing hard, I took a careful step backwards, seeking the soft, sandy trail that I had unconsciously followed down into the swamp. If I could only get back onto that path at least my bare feet would have a fighting chance. The animals noticed my movement and decided to leave their hiding places. Oh, how I wished the moon wasn’t so bright.
The first one pushed its way past the undergrowth and stepped into the clearing. I tried desperately to convince myself I was still dreaming. I had to be; there was no way that what I was seeing was real. A monstrous beast, black in color and about the same size as the white dog I had followed here, stood crouched before me. The smell coming off it made my stomach turn, and that putrid odor mixed with the nervous fear that held tight to me made me nearly sick. It was horrible, as if the corpse of some giant wolf had decided to rise from the dead. From what I could see in the moonlight, great pieces of fur were missing and its muzzle looked almost skeletal. I would have given anything to have those little warty goblins back instead of these things.
The corpse dog snarled and released a long, mournful bay, a sound that made my already icy skin prickle with goose bumps. Two more monsters joined it from the brush, then two more after that. I was far too terrified to move and because of that they quickly had me surrounded, their violet eyes and rancid stench bringing me closer and closer to fainting. I fought it with all my might, knowing that if I did faint, these zombie wolves would most likely tear me to shreds.
I was trapped, terrified, praying that I was simply having a nightmare and that I would wake from it at any second. But the cold night air seeped into my skin and the gravel and twigs cut into my feet. The rotting stench of the corpse dogs assaulted me and the eerie silvery light of the moon only enhanced the hollows between their ribs; outlined the ridges of their spines. One of them opened its mouth and started panting, its throat glowing like a furnace, its breath pouring out in curls of black smoke.
I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my body, even though I knew I should have been running or fighting. I waited for them to launch themselves at me, wondering what was holding them back as they snarled and growled and glared at me, always moving in a slow circle.
A second passed, then another. But I kept my eyes shut, muttering nonsense to myself and waiting to feel the dull pain of their teeth.
The time dragged on and suddenly there was another fierce howl, more alive than the dismal baying of the death hounds. My eyes flew open of their own volition and there, fifty feet away, stood the great white hound from my childhood dream. He threw his head back and howled again, then charged the mass of demons surrounding me. The dogs turned and faced the new threat, snapping and growling and crying in that bone-deep, mournful way they’d done just minutes before.
I gasped as two of them leapt forward, biting into the white dog as he slammed into them with full force. The three that still stood around me were distracted for the moment, so I took advantage and turned to run away, only to trip over a fallen log I hadn’t seen before. I hit the ground hard, losing my breath and destroying any chance of escaping.
The corpse dogs not fighting with the white hound lunged. I threw up my arm to protect my face, my heart racing faster than ever before, and screamed. A great yelp cut through the air, followed by
a crashing sound. Then another yelp followed, and another. I lowered my arm and sat up, then nearly fell back down in shock.
Someone was there in that clearing with me. Someone tall and wearing what looked like a hooded trench coat. As I sat in the dirt, my mind and my heart racing with everything that had happened that night, I watched my rescuer, hardly believing he was there. Where had he come from? Wasn’t he worried the dogs would attack him?
The monsters rose up from wherever they had been thrown, growling and looking angrier than before. I realized that the man in the trench coat had somehow knocked them back. How he had managed to do so, I couldn’t say. The dogs had to weigh well over a hundred pounds and the man didn’t have so much as a stick to fend them off with. Turns out, I didn’t have to wait much longer to learn about his methods.
One of the dogs lunged, the speed in which it did so impossible for any living thing to accomplish. I shouted some unintelligible warning, but apparently it wasn’t necessary. The man was ready for the attack, and just as quickly as the dog had moved, he swung his arms around and grabbed it, throwing it so hard against a nearby sapling that the tree broke in half.
I blinked and felt my jaw go slack. There was no way any of this was real. True, none of my visions or delusions had ever been this realistic, but this simply could not be happening in reality. A dream, like I had told myself before, it was just a dream and all I had to do was wait for it to wear itself out and I would wake up, safe and sound in my own bed.
My superhuman savior quickly took care of the remaining dogs as I sat and played air hockey with my own conscience. But before I knew it the demon dogs were gone and I was sitting alone in the middle of a clearing with a stranger who could move like a comic book hero.
The silence seemed strange, after all of the growling and yowling that had filled the air earlier. The moon shone down just as brightly as before and a slight breeze rustled through the willows growing on the edge of the swamp. I was too frightened and astounded to move, and I had no idea what to say. The man stood fifteen feet from me, gazing off into the woods that spread out beyond the clearing. He didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t until I heard the soft panting behind me that I realized I had forgotten about the white hound who had led me here to begin with.
Faery Tales: Six Novellas of Magic and Adventure (Faery Worlds Book 3) Page 30
