by S. Young
Then she heard a gasp and spun back toward the couple.
She froze when her eyes connected with Alejandra’s as she clung to her blurry-faced man. “Who are you?”
Rose shook her head at the accusatory question. “What? I don’t understand. Why am I here?”
“Who are you?” The blurry faced man vanished and Rose faced Alejandra alone in the dark. “Who are you?” she repeated in her accented English. “How did you get here?”
“I don’t know.”
Fear suffused Alejandra, and Rose felt that keenly too. “How did you get here?” she demanded.
Rose shook her head, stumbling away from the girl.
“How did you get here? HOW DID YOU GET HERE!”
Rose jerked awake in her seat.
Chapter Twenty-One - Rose Dream-Walks Fionn
He reached into the bed of furs, giving her an amazing view of that muscular ass of his, and pulled on rough trousers. With a yawn, Fionn crossed the room and picked up something that looked like bread from a plate on the table. The wolf followed, and Fionn reached out to scratch behind his ears. “Good morning, Cónán.”
Chewing on the bread, Fionn strode toward the entrance, the wolf shadowing him.
Rose followed.
It had taken her slumberous mind to catch up, but as she dashed out of the roundhouse, her consciousness realized she was dream-walking again, this time in Fionn’s dreamworld. And he seemed to be dreaming about the past.
Rose marveled at the view as she skidded to a stop outside the house. She was on a hill. Sprawled below her was a village, a collection of roundhouses of varying sizes, all with land that was being tended. A great stone wall surrounded the village border. A pale blue sky hung above them as Fionn took in the view of people working and talking in the small town below.
She followed his gaze to what looked like the entrance to the fortified town where men with weapons sat outside what might have been a guardhouse.
“My king shows too much of himself to his people.”
The foreign words brought both Fionn, Cónán, and Rose’s heads to the left, where a striking redhead appeared, walking up the slope toward the entrance to the roundhouse.
Fionn strode toward the woman, turning her in his arms, and shocking the shit out of Rose as he broke into a wide smile.
She’d never seen him smile like that.
“Jealous, my love?” Fionn asked.
The redhead shook her head, laughing as Fionn pressed his lips to hers.
Jealousy seared through Rose as they held each other tight, their kisses passionate, their embrace loving.
Who was this?
“Aoibhinn,” Fionn murmured as he broke the kiss. “I missed my queen.”
“Your war is important.”
Rose had no idea what they were saying, but the woman seemed to be reassuring him.
“Where are the children?”
The redhead grinned and turned her curvy body toward the entrance.
Fionn shook his head. “They’re not in there.”
The woman chuckled, tipped her head toward the entrance and yelled, “Caoimhe, Diarmuid!”
Two seconds later, a young girl, perhaps seven or eight, hurried out of the roundhouse followed by a tall, lanky young man who could have been anywhere between the ages of eleven and eighteen. His physique said he was older but his baby face said he was very young.
Rose frowned. Where had they come from?
Oh. Right. Dream.
But who were they? Taking a step closer, she peered at the kids as the girl wrapped her arms around Fionn’s waist and he grinned down at her. He then turned to converse with the boy. Rose was stunned.
The boy had his smile. The girl had his hair.
Were these … Fionn’s children?
What?
Cónán moved toward the boy who curled his fist in the wolf’s ruff as he grinned up at Fionn.
“You should not have gone to her.” The woman’s words, whatever they meant, caused a massive shift in Fionn’s dreamscape.
The children vanished and the village faded to a forest lit only with flame from a massive fire behind the woman. And Fionn … he was now beardless and wore leather trousers.
A gold circlet rested low around his neck. His torso was bare.
Without his beard, he looked more like the Fionn she knew, except his green eyes blazed with the light of another world.
Cloaked figures appeared out of the trees behind him, advancing menacingly as the redheaded woman watched on, chin raised in defiance.
“My love?” Fionn reached for the redhead.
Revulsion crossed her face, making her look hard and cold where only moments ago she’d been soft and loving. “I am not your love!”
Acknowledgments
Diving back into the world of adult paranormal romance with Rose and Fionn by my side has been an absolute adventure. For them literally, as they ran across Europe to Ireland. Moreover, it was fun to venture into Iron Age Ireland to revisit Fionn’s past. I’ve taken some liberties with historical accuracy regarding Fionn’s life in Iron Age Ireland to fit with my reimagining of a fae invaded world. I also used modern Irish (of the Connacht dialect) for Fionn. But, of course, I don’t know Irish and that’s why my wonderful reader, Sally McDonagh, stepped in to help. Thank you so much, Sally, for all of your translations and help with pronunciation. It is so appreciated! Any errors are my own.
There are many reasons to thank my Facebook Group Sam’s Clan McBookish, number one being their never-ending support and encouragement. I’m grateful to have members from all over the world in my group, and I have to thank a few of those ladies by name for helping me with translations for this book. For the Croatian translations, a huge thank you to Natasha Tomic, Iva Piva, Josipa Mateša, Jelena Grujic, Suanita Mesic, Ivana D’Storm, Kristina Hanicar, Teodora Bibic, Melinda Žvan, Dubravka Tarcal-Grabovac. You are wonderful! And for the Castilian Spanish translations Sarai Ruiz, Viridiana Jauregui, Raquel Duarte, Josefina Sanchez de Bath, Elna Nin, Merchy Lires, Susana Martinez, Maria Jose Ryan, María WieBitte Navalón-Castillo, Babel Td, Wilmari Carrasquillo-Delgado, Kayleigh Woods, and Charo Guismo. Thank you all so much for helping me with the translations in Alejandra’s dream sequence!
For the French translation, a big thank you to Françoise Giang, Ave Line, Alecs Contreras, Jennifer Spinninger, and Aurélie Dee.
How lucky am I to have such amazing readers to turn to with research questions? You’re all phenomenal! Again, any errors are my own.
For the most part writing is a solitary endeavor, but publishing is not. A massive thank you to my editor Jennifer Sommersby Young for taking a process than can sometimes be excruciating for a writer and making it pretty painless. I love working with you!
A big thank you to Kristen Callihan for reading an early version of Fionn and Rose’s story and giving me much appreciated feedback that helped make their romance stronger.
And thank you to my bestie and PA extraordinaire, Ashleen Walker, for handling all the little things and supporting me through everything. I love you lots.
The life of a writer doesn’t stop with the book. Our job expands beyond the written word to marketing, advertising, graphic design, social media management and more. Help from those in the know goes a long way. Thank you to every single blogger, instagrammer and book lover who has helped spread the word about my books. You all are appreciated so much!
To my family and friends, for always encouraging me to follow my gut.
Moreover, to Wander Aguiar for the beautiful cover image photography that encapsulates Fionn and Rose perfectly.
To Hang Le, thank you, thank you for creating yet another stunning cover that I cannot stop staring at! You’re mega, my friend.
As always, thank you to my agent Lauren Abramo for making it possible for readers all over the world to find my words, and for always having my back. I’m so grateful for you.
And finally, the biggest thank you of all, to you my reader. Thank you for comin
g on this new adventure with me. I couldn’t do it without you.
About the Author
S. Young is the pen name for Samantha Young, a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author from Stirlingshire, Scotland. She’s been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award for Best Author and Best Romance for her international bestseller On Dublin Street. On Dublin Street was Samantha’s first adult contemporary romance series and has sold in twenty-eight languages in thirty countries. True Immortality is Samantha’s first adult paranormal series written under the name S. Young.
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