Quest of a Warrior (Legends of the Fenian Warriors Book 1)

by Mary Morgan

  Slumping down in a chair, she lifted her bare feet to the fire. “Ooo…feels heavenly.”

  He remained standing. “No socks?”

  She wiggled her toes. “Nope. I’ve always hated them. I only wear them with boots. My mom—” Ivy paused and looked away. Sighing, she continued, “She told me that it started as soon as I could walk. She’d always find me running around without shoes and socks. My feet were constantly dirty.” Ivy glanced at him and laughed. “Said I was a child of the Fae.”

  Amused, Conn only nodded.

  Ivy jumped up. “I’m sorry. Here I’m babbling on about me and have changed into dry clothes, but you’re sopping wet. Give me your clothes and I can put them in the dryer.”

  “Eager to have me out of my clothes, ghrá?”

  She swallowed. “Yes, but food first. And I need to find something for you to wear.” Tapping a finger to her mouth in thought, she then darted out of the room. Returning a few moments later, she handed Conn a plaid blanket. “I think it’s large enough to cover your…um…you know, your body.”

  He leaned down near her ear. “And only you would know how large.”

  Ivy’s eyes went wide. “Really? No others?”

  None that were human. “Not as important,” he clarified.

  Taking the offered plaid, Conn chuckled as he made his way into her bathroom. Stripping his clothes free, he wrapped the material around his waist. Proceeding out of the bathroom, he found the small closet with the washer and dryer. Placing the items inside, he turned it on.

  The aroma of food enveloped him as he entered the kitchen, and his stomach protested.

  Ivy laughed. “Hope you’re hungry for leftover vegetable soup and beer bread.” She glanced over her shoulder. Her mouth hung open, and then she snapped it shut. “Magnificent,” she muttered.

  “Did you make it?” He peered over her shoulder, inhaling deeply.

  She snorted in disgust. “Of course. I don’t eat all my meals at the Seven Swans. It will only be a few more moments. If you don’t mind, I’d like to sit by the fire and eat. There’s a fake fur rug in my bedroom, which is located on the far right of the hall. Would you mind fetching it and placing it by the fire?”

  He kissed her behind the ear. “With pleasure.”

  Leaving the kitchen, Conn hastened upstairs. When he entered her bedroom, he froze. In the corner of the room, set an easel, but it was the drawings on her dresser that captured his eye. Stepping closer, he brushed his fingers over the likeness of himself. A chill went through his body. The image was from long ago—the time when he took the oath of a Fenian Warrior. He stood before the crystal pillar and pledged his vow.

  “Sometimes my imagination grows wild,” she uttered softly from the entrance.

  “When did you draw this?” he asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the drawing.

  “The day after we met.” Ivy walked inside the room. “I believe it’s one of your ancestors.”

  You’re wrong, Ivy. You have captured me at one of the most pivotal times in my life. “You have a powerful gift, lass.” He glanced at her sideways.

  She hugged her arms around herself, moving closer. “I know. This one was extremely intense.”

  What will you do when you find out they’re one and the same? Can you accept the Fae along with the man? Frustration slithered inside of Conn, but he quickly banished it. “Your talent at drawing is rare, as well.”

  Smiling, she turned the sketch over. “I studied at the Art Institute in San Francisco. However, my true passion was history, so I left and got my degree in ancient history.” Lifting her head, she added, “And now I’m running the Celtic Knot.”

  He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “An admirable quality, too. I would like to hear more about your life.” Reaching for the fur, he walked out of her bedroom and descended the stairs.

  “Oh no you don’t, mister.” Ivy poked him in the back. “You said you would share more about your life.”

  Conn dumped the fur before the fire and grasped her around the waist. He kissed a path along her neck. “I believe my words were after I made love to every inch of your body.”

  She pushed against his chest, though her eyes held desire for him. “No. Not one more kiss shall I grant you until you offer some morsel about yourself. Or two.”

  Ivy dazzled him with her determination. Lifting one of her hands from his chest, he kissed each finger. “You win.”

  Reaching up on her tiptoes, she kissed him, lingering, savoring every moment. Breaking free, she whispered, “Food first.”

  He watched her saunter into the kitchen and return with two bowls. Handing them both to him, she strolled back to retrieve the bread and two bottles of beer.

  They settled down in front of the blazing hearth and ate their meal in silence. Conn savored the richness of the broth—heavy with herbs and vegetables. Tearing off a piece of bread, he sopped up some of the liquid. “Delicious.”

  “Just an old recipe,” she stated between mouthfuls.

  “All praise to the cook, too.”

  Conn placed his bowl down and reached for the beer. Taking a long swill, he gazed into the flames. Contentment and anxiety clawed at him. How much of his life did he want to share with Ivy? And where did one begin? Wiping his thumb around the rim of the bottle, he said, “My mother and father are still alive. I have one sister—a twin, though her hair is as black as night. I was raised in a place near the Hill of Tara. I have spent my life working at various jobs and positions—more as an advisor. I was schooled at the finest in the land.”

  “Interesting. Never married?” she asked, wiping the crumbs from her mouth with a napkin.

  “The opportunity didn’t present itself.” He hesitated briefly. “In my line of work, there is no room for a wife or a relationship. I am always moving from one place to the other.”

  “Hmm…and now?”

  Conn raked a hand through his hair. “I am at a crossroads in my life.”

  “Am I a passing fancy until you set off on your new path?” she asked softly.

  He glanced sharply at her. “No.”

  Her faint smile held a touch of sadness. “Good. Though I feared you’d be gone come morning.”

  Frowning, Conn reached for one of her hands. “This is new to me, Ivy. I am not one to bed a woman and leave the next day.” He shook his head, unable to explain further. How could he tell her that he only sought sexual pleasures in his own realm? Furthermore, they meant nothing to him, only a release.

  She brought his hand to her lips and placed a kiss inside the palm. “I believe you’ve shared enough for today.”

  His eyes roamed her face and a sudden urge to take her on the fur overtook him. “You are more beautiful than the stars.”

  Scooting closer to him, Ivy brushed away a lock of hair from his face. “I am only one and there are many brilliant ones.”

  “Ahh…but your beauty outshines them all.”

  Blushing, she withdrew from his touch and stood. “There is something I’ve longed to do and I mentioned it in the woods. Stay right where you are.”

  Swallowing the last of his beer, Conn followed her movements out of the room. Cleaning up the area, he placed the bowls and bottles on a nearby table.

  Ivy returned carrying a large sketchpad and pencil. She had stripped free of her leggings causing his mouth to become dry. Her sweater dress barely covered her bottom, and his fingers itched to renew the path from her ankles to the secrets hidden under the material.

  Tossing down several pillows, she made herself comfortable. “I would like to sketch you.”

  Conn arched a brow seductively and tugged at the plaid. “With or without?”

  Eyes that blazed with desire held his own. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to draw anything if you remove your plaid. Besides, I can already see your desire for other artistic activities.”

  He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Later, mo ghrá.”

  Flipping back the cover, she smiled.
“Definitely.”

  “And the pose?”

  Gesturing with her hand, she replied, “I don’t like forced poses, and you have a strong profile. So turn back toward the fire, with one knee bent and arms clasping the knee.”

  He eyed her skeptically. “Anything else?”

  Ivy tapped a finger to her mouth. “Please stay silent.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Turning his attention to the flames, Conn let his mind drift. An entire life had been spent learning rules and preparation. He was a chiseled and hardened warrior, not one for softness. His world was unknown to Ivy—she a mere lass that slipped under centuries of training. Why did he let it happen? He had walked blindly into her life, unprepared for the consequences. Words from an old friend came back to haunt him. Did not his mentor, Aidan Kerrigan, warn him to always be on guard with the humans? Nonetheless, the Fenian Warrior ignored his own guidance and married a human.

  Conn stole a glance at Ivy. Her hand glided over the paper, while she bit her lip in concentration. Turning his sight once again to the flames, he realized that none of it mattered anymore. When the heart of a Fae opens to true love, there is no turning back. Bleakness and despair will follow if a Fae fights against the inevitable.

  However, another realization slammed into him. What about the lass from centuries past? Did she not deserve a chance of freedom and love? If he changed one thread on the loom, would it change Ivy’s fate?

  His fists clenched. Conn had never considered his plan thoroughly. His mind and heart screamed at him—a battle of rights and wrongs. To undo an injustice, he stood the risk of losing the one woman who had captured his heart—Ivy.

  There had to be another way.

  “Conn?” Ivy’s soft touch splintered through his dark thoughts.

  He blinked and grabbed her around the waist. Desire drummed in every cell of his body. It built like a storm—a dizzying current racing through him. The thought of losing her fractured a part of his very soul.

  She angled her head toward him, the glow of the firelight illuminating her features. “What troubles you?”

  “Battles yet to be fought,” he responded and then took her mouth with savage intensity.

  Conn let out a groan when her tongue darted inside, dueling with his. The kiss spiraled through his veins, and he battled not to take her swiftly. Slipping one hand along her thigh, his fingers brushed against her soft curls, eliciting a cry from Ivy. He stroked between her folds, teasing, tormenting her. Her pleas turned to whimpers and Conn tried to be gentle, but his blood roared within his body.

  Breaking free from the kiss, Conn tossed aside his plaid and swiftly removed Ivy’s dress. She reached out to touch his swollen cock, but he tossed her back on the fur rug. “No,” he growled in protest.

  He leaned over her, his love—all his. Words spilled forth—ancient, claiming her in a ritual as old as time. Ivy lured him forward with her own words and outstretched hands. Searing a path down her neck with his lips, he thrust deeply inside of her. Her heat surrounded him. Withdrawing slowly, he slammed back into her. The pleasure so exquisite, he cared not if the world around them had burned to ashes.

  When the wave crested, Conn soared, taking Ivy’s passion and desire with him. Stars opened and moonlight cast her glow on the lovers. Her cry of release echoed his and for several moments, the world dissolved around them.

  As Conn held Ivy’s quaking body, he whispered the sacred words in an ancient language—words he vowed to never speak, and he hoped she would comprehend the meaning, for he could not utter them in her language. Until the mists descend and I depart from this life to the next, you shall have a part of me. I weave my love freely—heart to soul, soul to heart. I bind you with these words to me always. We shall walk in the land of forever as one love.

  Pain sliced through his chest, leaving him temporarily unable to breathe. When the last remnants faded away, he rolled onto his back, bringing Ivy against his side.

  The flames snapped, the only sound in the room. Conn’s eyelids grew heavy, beckoning his body and mind to slumber.

  Right before sleep lured him away to its peaceful abyss, Conn heard her soft whisper echo in the room, “I love you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Removing the Fae-colored glasses will illuminate the truth.”

  ~Chronicles of the Fae

  Go away.

  Her body was warm, sated, and blissfully content. Nevertheless, something kept swiping at her nose. Too tired to move, she willed it to vanish. It did not belong in her peaceful world of dreaming. Contentment filled her being, and Ivy desired to remain happily in this beautiful realm.

  When the beast dared to intrude once more, her hand flung outward, smacking away the soft, furry creature. “Leave,” she uttered, but found her voice lacking a more commanding tone.

  Then said feline started to lick her face.

  “For the love of Zeus, be gone.” Ivy turned away from the departing, purring animal and tucked herself closer to the hard, hot male body.

  “Zeus was a demi-god according to the Goddess Danu. He boasted of powers that he never had. A bit of a show-off, so I’ve been told,” murmured Conn as he nuzzled her neck.

  “What?” Ivy laughed and slowly returned to the land of the living. However, she found herself slipping into a pleasurable rift as Conn’s fingers traced a path over her breasts, lingering to fondle each softly.

  “Truth,” he replied in a husky voice as his hand swept down her abdomen. “Apparently, he had limited powers, but liked to claim otherwise. Taunted the other Gods and Goddesses.”

  Ivy let out a moan when he flicked one finger over her sensitive core. “You’re just full of make-believe stories.”

  His hot mouth descended over hers, silencing any further conversation. Yet, their desire was short lived by the pounding on the front door.

  “Bloody bastards,” growled Conn, removing the blanket from their naked bodies and standing.

  The pounding continued, and he started to make his way to the door.

  Ivy stood instantly and pulled on his arm. “You can’t answer my door without any clothes on.”

  He shrugged and glanced around the room, obviously looking for his clothing.

  “They’re in the dryer, remember?” she hissed, reaching for her sweater dress.

  She stumbled to the door, and Conn yanked her back. “I refuse to let you open the door half-naked.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Barbarian.”

  Dashing into her bedroom, she shouted over her shoulder, “I’ll be right there!” Tugging on her leggings, she ran back to the door.

  Flinging it open, she faced the glare of none other than Mac O’Reilly. “Good morning,” she greeted in her most cheerful voice.

  The man took in her appearance, and Ivy fought the urge to run her fingers through her hair and straighten her dress. Keeping the door partially closed, she waited for him to speak.

  “Are you ill, Ivy Kathleen?”

  Almost choking on laughter, she shook her head. “Never better. Was there something you needed, Mac?”

  “I was concerned—”

  Ivy almost let out a groan when Conn appeared behind her. His presence loomed over her. The man was so close, the heat poured off his body and onto her back. She fought the urge to jab him in the stomach with her elbow, especially when he fully opened the door revealing their love tryst.

  Mac’s gaze darkened. “What are you doing here? I thought all the repairs were done.”

  Conn put a hand on Ivy’s shoulder. “None of your business.”

  Ivy smiled sweetly up at Conn, though her eyes held daggers. “Could you give us a moment?”

  His reply was a kiss on her lips. Giving her a wink, he then strolled away.

  Turning her attention to Mac, who now had his fists clenched, she said, “I’m sorry, but there’s no need to be concerned. Thanks for checking. Conn is taking care of a few minor repairs.”

  “Erin and I grew concerned when customers c
ame in for lunch asking why the store was closed. They feared you were feeling ill.”

  The blood drained from Ivy’s face. “What time is it?”

  “Almost noon,” clipped Mac.

  “Damn,” she muttered. “Thanks. I’m sorry. Long day yesterday. If anyone comes asking, tell them the store will be open within the hour.”

  “Yeah, right.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he stormed off down the path.

  Closing the door, Ivy bolted into her bedroom and yanked clothing off hangers. Pulling out underwear from her dresser, she almost collided with Conn on her way to the bathroom.

  “No time for a meal?” He held a slice of toast in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

  Ivy nodded. “I’ve never overslept in my entire life.” Taking a bite of the offered food from his hand, she shook her head in frustration.

  “You were exhausted,” he countered.

  “Humph!” Taking in his appearance, she scowled. “You could have at least put on a shirt when you came to the door.”

  Shrugging, he tore off a piece and plopped it into her mouth. “The man needed to know his place. You are mine.”

  “Do you hear yourself, Conn? You’re acting like a medieval cave man.”

  “For your information, medieval men did not live in caves,” he responded dryly.

  “Infuriating man,” she complained and walked into the bathroom.

  Conn immediately opened the door and handed her the mug. “We don’t want the Mistress of The Celtic Knot grumpy without her morning…ahh…I mean noon tea.”

  “Oh, for the love of Brigid,” she snapped, though Ivy’s mouth twitched with humor as she closed the door on his smiling face. “And don’t forget to feed Neala, too!”

  ****

  No sooner did Ivy open the Celtic Knot than Erin came walking across the street. Knowing her brother, Ivy would bet everything she had that he spilled what he saw earlier to his sister. Erin had a grin on her face that made the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland’s story tame.

  Handing a mystery novel to Mrs. Thompson, she hastily started to make her way to the back of the store, when the woman grabbed her arm.

  “Are you sure this is the author’s latest? The plot sounds awfully familiar.”