by Mary Morgan
Liam stared out at the expanse of water. Even the Great Dragon who dwelled deep within the loch could not bring him any words of comfort. The fortress of grief continued to build inside him. His hands trembled as he balled them into fists. “I must return home.” He glanced over his shoulder. “My restraint of control is ebbing away. I need to regain a sense of purpose.”
Meggie nodded slowly. “Rory has spoken about the difference of Fae and human emotions.”
“How considerate,” replied Liam dryly.
She bent and retrieved two rocks. Stepping toward the water, she explained, “This stone is like a human when dealing with turbulent emotions.” Meggie tossed the stone outward, making it skip across the water several times. Pointing, she added, “Yet, the emotions of a Fae are felt keenly unlike any other here. Ye sense them deeply.” She flung the other stone high into the air and they watched as it plunged into the loch with a resounding splash.
“Impressive comparison,” he acknowledged.
Meggie returned to his side and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Go home and heal, Liam.”
“What if I can’t?” Liam had not wished to profess the question, but he found himself lacking in any firm control over his words, thoughts, and emotions.
Meggie pursed her lips in thought, studying the ground. Minutes ticked by and Liam thought it odd she did not answer him. When she finally lifted her head, she replied, “Then ye are nae good to us here. Jamie will reflect the darkness ye have kept hidden, exposing your weakness and flaws. I have nae wish to ever see my son take down a Fenian Warrior in an attempt to show how powerful he is and how weak ye are. I worry he would use your darkness to show his strength over a Fae. Ye must teach him the path of both—light and dark. Your darkness is consuming ye.”
A chill of foreboding washed over Liam. “Even in a Fae’s darkest moments, they can harness the most power. This will be my next lesson to your son when I return.”
She angled her head at him. “A wise lesson, indeed, Liam. I look forward to your next visit.”
Liam gave a slight bow. “Be well, Meggie.”
“The same to ye, my friend.”
He marveled at the woman as she strode through the thick pine trees, and also understood her own sorrow at losing her brothers. After the great battle, Angus, Duncan, Stephen, and Alastair MacKay had to return to their own time—the 13th century. Sadly, she, Adam, and their son, Jamie had to remain in the present.
“The new order of Dragon Knights has indeed been reborn here in this century.” Liam knelt on one knee and placed his palm upon the ground. Gazing outward at the loch, he uttered softly, “Keep them safe Great Dragon. Watch over them, Mother Danu. From the first shaft of sunlight until the first kiss of a moonbeam.”
Rising slowly, Liam steadily made his way back to Aonach to say his farewells and depart for home.
****
“How much longer are you going to keep coming to your father’s library?” inquired Liam’s mother, Reena. “You cannot bury your head in the tomes here, seeking answers within your heart.”
Liam closed the current book that occupied his thoughts and gazed intently at his mother. “And what do you purpose I do? Weep out in the gardens? Take up blacksmithing like Rory did when he agonized over the loss of his love?” His patience with his doting mother was grating on his nerves. “Perchance I should retreat to my chambers within the Brotherhood, so you will have no need to worry about me.”
She leveled him a hard stare. “Where there will always be a reminder of her? Are not your chambers near the Royal House and gardens? Should I applaud this new decision? Have you taken a good look at your appearance? You are barely existing, my son.”
He threw the book across the room. “Then pray tell me what to do? I’m obviously doing something wrong, since you correct me daily.”
Her eyes filled with sorrow. “You have lost control, Liam. Coming home to wallow in your sorrow is consuming you.” She stepped closer and cupped his cheek.
Liam flinched and backed away. “Do not give me any comfort.”
His mother vanished in a whisper of light.
Slamming his fists onto the oak desk, he let out a frustrated cry. “Why can’t I find any solace?”
Deafening silence greeted him. Even Mother Danu had abandoned him. The months since he’d come back home had been filled with more despair. Anguish had been replaced with anger and malice. His anger at the humans and Milesians. And his malice was also directed at the king for removing his beloved to the temple of Mother Danu where she was allowed to die.
“Did not any endeavor to heal her?” he shouted.
He tore his gaze to the crystal stain-glass window. The bucolic scene outside made him nauseated. Beauty filled his parents’ home, and he longed to leave. He should have never returned. His nails bit into the wood, letting the fury snake through his blood.
His last thread of discipline and training deserted him.
“I am living a lie! This life is not meant for me. My trial was a farce, and I should have been permitted to join my beloved.” His voice shook with rage.
The walls of this home had become another prison, and he shuddered. Quickly removing his armband, he traced a path over the ancient words with his thumb. He placed it in the center of the desk and stepped aside.
Snapping his fingers, Liam magically transported to the western gate of the Fae realm. As he reappeared by the waterfall denoting the entrance to Tir na Og, he stripped free from his boots and removed his tunic.
Inhaling deeply, he exhaled on a sigh.
He studied the flowing water, cascading over the moss-covered rocky cliff. The waterfall fed into a graceful river that surged into the sea toward the land of forever. The last time he had been there was when they sent his father’s body adrift out to sea. He touched the skin where he had removed his armband. The time for asking forgiveness was over, and his thoughts turned toward another.
“Where did they hold your ceremony, my beloved?” He pointed to a patch of violets. “Did they not think to tuck a few of your favorite flowers within your ebony locks? I think no…not, since there was no one there to share this knowledge.” Liam choked back the emotion. “The entire kingdom should have paid homage to your life.”
This place invoked serenity, and for the first time in many moons, Liam felt at peace. He started forward in the direction of the violets, pausing every so often to pluck another favorite flower he knew she favored.
Stopping before the lavender clusters, his eyes blurred. “I even penned a missive in prison to you. I should have been the one that died—not you—never you.” He bent and grasped a few more, adding them to the others.
Returning his attention to the sea, he continued on his journey. He clutched the bouquet to his chest as he approached the shore. A crystal pillar marked the division between the entrance to the Fae realm and Tir na Og. It shimmered from the sun, illuminating the ancient words carved from long ago.
His body shook when he stepped on the glistening white ground. It was a mixture of stardust, fine crystals, and sand from his own homeland on Taralyn. His toes dug into the soft warmth, and Liam swallowed.
In a low voice, he sang the ancient words to call forth the barge. “From this land to the next, from the rising sun, to the setting moons. The stars are my home beyond the glittering gates. I heed the call to return. Heart and soul shall be fused as one during my journey home.”
A brilliant flash of light appeared on the horizon, and he spotted the vessel sailing toward the shore.
Liam took another step forward, the frothing water merely inches from his feet. “Are you waiting for me at the gates of Tir na Og, my beloved? Did you hear my voice call out to you?”
He brushed a hand over his brow, preparing to take the last step into the water and sealing his fate forever. If even a drop touched his skin, death would happen instantly, transporting him onto the barge and escorting him across the sea.
“I have heard you, my warrior.”
>
Liam froze. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder. “Abela,” he uttered her name on a gut-wrenching sob for the first time since her death.
“Please do not step into the water,” she pleaded and beckoned him toward her.
He blinked in confusion. “Are you a vision within my mind? Have I truly gone mad?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and then refocused his sight. “Move away from the shadow of the oak tree.”
“Heart to heart, I am yours. Blood to blood, we are one.” Abela stepped into the radiant sunlight. “I am as real as you are, Liam MacGregor, and I have no desire to watch you vanish forever. Please come away from the water.”
Liam dropped the flowers and ran into her outstretched arms, crushing her body against his. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her scent—one filled with all the flowers of their kingdom. “Abela, Abela.” When he opened his eyes, he roamed her features, unable to fathom that she was standing before him. “You are here—alive.”
“My warrior.” A lone tear slipped down her cheek, and Liam brushed it away with the pad of his thumb.
Euphoria swept through him, and he covered her mouth hungrily. The kiss sang through his veins, healing the scars of her death and loss. Her moan resonated within him, and he deepened the kiss, filling her with all he had to give.
When he broke free, Liam lifted her high in the air and twirled her around. Abela’s laughter filled him, the sound exhilarating.
Gently, he brought her back to the ground. “How?” he asked. “I thought you de…dead.”
Abela cupped his face. “Almost,” she whispered. Tears misted her eyes. “I kept hearing your voice. You brought me back, Liam.”
“Sweet Goddess, I truly believed I had lost you! They took you away to the temple.”
She brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. “I was lost for a long time. If not for the priestesses and Mother Danu, I would have slipped into death’s embrace. They kept a vigil around me, along with my mother.”
Liam frowned, confused and uncertain. “But I was told of your death. All mourned the loss of you.”
“The priestesses deemed it necessary to inform the kingdom that I was dead, except for the king and queen. In reality, I was suspended between the land of the living and the spirit realm. Keeping me in the healing caverns within the temple was the only solution presented to my parents, even though the priestesses believed I would never return. They expected Mother Danu to take me into her loving embrace.” She leaned her head on his chest. “Apparently my mother spoke to me constantly. Yet, the only words I was able to hear were from you. When I woke, your name was on my lips. It was many days later before I could even rise from my bed. The recovery was a slow process.”
He tipped her chin up with his finger. “You heard my voice, because you are my wife, Abela.”
Leaning to the side, she traced her tongue along the side of his neck, and his pulse raced. “Blood to blood, my husband. Forever we are linked.”
Liam recaptured her lips in a firestorm of passion, thrusting his tongue inside the velvet softness of her mouth. Desire burned within his blood. Lifting her into his arms, Liam strode with intent away from the tree.
“Where are we going?” she asked, playing with his hair.
He surveyed her seductive pout. “To have a proper reunion.”
She looked affronted. “I have no desire to be with anyone but you.”
“Did I mention anyone else? And how did you manage to find me here?”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she smiled. “I followed your voice. Though it was filled with sorrow, I knew where to find you.”
He cursed softly. “There will be no more talk of dying or Tir na Og.”
“Then what shall we discuss?” she inquired, trailing her tongue in a leisurely manner along the bottom of his lip.
Liam trembled from her touch, aching to bury himself deep within her. “Desires.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Both.”
“Then don’t you think you should transport us to your chambers, instead of walking there?”
“Are you in a hurry?” he countered in amusement.
She breathed a kiss along the vein in his neck. “Yes.”
Liam winked and in a blazing flash of light, he transported them far away from the great waterfall in the west.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“My journey was uncertain, until I encountered my last thread on the loom of life.”
~Diary of Princess Abela
Stretching fully, Abela wrapped a leg over Liam’s naked hips, reveling in the hard planes of his body and inhaling his scent. Contentment filled her soul, and she pressed a kiss on his shoulder. Loving Liam MacGregor was the greatest adventure of her life.
“I love you, my warrior.” Lifting her head, she gazed into his silver-blue eyes. Love reflected back within his own.
He caressed her backside in a leisurely manner, sending shivers of desire once again through her. “And I love you, mo ghrá.”
Her fingers trailed down his arm. “Where is your armband?”
“On my father’s desk.”
She bolted upright. “If you removed the relic, then you fully intended to enter into the water? It is sacred to your family and denotes your lineage within the Royal house of Avieon on our homeland on Taralyn.”
Liam winced. “Yes.”
She smacked his arm and turned away from him.
He tugged on one of her curls. “I was fading from this existence. Eventually, I would have gone mad. I could not fathom you gone. I lost all self-control. It was the first time in my existence that I allowed the darkness of grief to invade my soul. I refused to harness the anguish.”
“Life is precious,” argued Abela. Glancing over her shoulder, she added, “However, I might have done the same. At least I reached you in time.”
Liam placed one arm under his head. “Yes, you did. I will retrieve the armband in the morning. Amidst collecting the family relic, I must make apologies to my mother.”
“Have you caused her distress?”
He closed his eyes on a sigh. “Horrifically so.”
Poking him on his leg, she added, “Go this evening. Do not wait.”
“As you wish, beloved.”
Curling her knees to her chest, Abela gazed around his chamber. An oak tree was fashioned from all the pieces of wood in their realm—from a blend of rowan, yew, maple, birch, elm, pine, and oak. The creative carving expanded across the entire wall in a multi-layer of colors. Directly opposite was a tapestry of their ancient homeland of Taralyn during the full moons. Moonlight spilled over the entire kingdom in an illuminating effect. In awe of the work, she found something new as her gaze traveled over the embroidery. Candles graced an amber table at the end of his massive four-poster bed. The room spoke of the man, and Abela grew curious about the rest of his chambers here in the Crystal Palace.
“You have exquisite taste,” she observed.
Liam pulled her back against him. “Wait until you see the rest of my chambers.”
“Hmm…let me guess. Is there a library?”
“Massive. It contains all the tomes from the collection of Panilla.”
“The great poet from our homeland? I thought the works were lost.”
“I found them one day searching for a scroll on elixirs in the lower level of the Library of the Ancients.”
“I would enjoy reading them.” Abela nuzzled his neck. “I’ve heard that reading some of his poems can ignite arousal in a Fae.”
In one swift move, Liam rolled her onto her back. His fingers trailed a path over her breasts and down her stomach. “Not as much as my words and touch.”
When his fingers reached the most intimate part of Abela, she gasped in pleasure. “I’m not so sure. I…I…um…will have to read those poems for myself.”
In slow circles, Liam continued to fondle and tease her. “No. I will read them to you.”
“Yes, yes,” she agreed, trying to grasp the elusive flam
e building within her body.
“For now, let me give you pleasure,” he murmured against her neck, nipping at the soft spot below her ear. “I find I cannot get enough of you. I never want to part from you.”
Abela closed her eyes on the sensations and surrendered herself to his ministrations. He stopped, and her eyes flew open. “No. Never.” And in one fluid movement, he entered her body and she let out a groan.
The sensual dance continued, especially when she wrapped her legs around Liam’s back, bringing him even deeper within her body. His thrusts were driving her wild. Raking her nails down his back, she arched madly against him. The tide of passion lifted and swept them into the stars, and she screamed his name.
Liam roared as his release poured into her body. Her skin tingled from her head to her toes, and the starlight shimmered all around them. Floating on a wave of ecstasy, they drifted back onto his bed. He held her quaking body, crooning words of love and endearments in her ear.
Sated and content, Abela closed her eyes.
Their quiet reunion was interrupted when Rory came charging through the outer chamber shouting. “What did you do to our mother?”
Abela scooted under the covers as Liam bolted out of the bed and met his brother at the entrance of his inner chamber. “I am going to make amends. For now, you must leave.”
“You bastard!” Rory shoved him aside. “Is this how you honor the woman—your wife—who you loved and lost? By bringing another to your bed?”
“Wait!”
“Who is she?” demanded Rory, standing by the side of the bed. “Are you bringing other women back from the Pleasure Gardens?”
Abela let out a hiss of disapproval from under the fur coverings. She snapped her fingers to magically view the spectacle.
Liam folded his arms across his chest, giving no regard to his lack of clothing. “Contrary to what you’ve assumed, I can assure you that I have remained honorable to my beloved.”
Rory regarded him like a specimen. “Have you gone mad? How many times must I tell you? She is—”