by Teri Barnett
“You’re certain she won’t find us an intrusion on her solitary ways?”
Dylan laughed. “I can tell you with certainty our arrival will be no surprise to this one. It was probably her idea all along we should stop here before heading to Tintagel and she only wants us to think it’s ours.”
A few minutes more and the pair were in front of Kate’s modest home. Dylan swung his long legs down from his horse and tethered it to a post. He offered a hand to Maere and she slid down as well, coming to rest with her back against the horse’s side, Dylan directly in front of her.
He brushed aside stray hairs which had escaped her braid and offered a long caress down her cheek and the side of her neck. “You are beautiful,” he whispered as his finger touched her lips.
Maere dropped a gentle kiss against his fingertip and offered a small smile. But before she could move away, Dylan let his hand fall to her shoulder. It made its way around to the back of her neck, massaging small circles, easing the tension. Maere’s head drifted back and he gently kissed the base of her throat. She gasped in pleasure as he continued to kiss along her shoulder, his lips warm and moist against her skin. With a sigh, his lips claimed hers, gently at first, teasing, tugging. As Maere responded to him, Dylan deepened the kiss, marking her with his love.
“Well, isn’t this a pretty picture for an old woman’s tired eyes.”
Dylan’s head shot up. He glanced down at Maere, her green eyes dark with emotion. He cleared his throat. “Greetings, Kate. I see your timing is as good as ever, despite your advanced years.” He squeezed Maere’s shoulder, then dropped his hand to hers and clasped it. Turning, he bowed to his teacher. “This is Maere cu Llwyr, my betrothed.”
Using her cane for balance, Kate hobbled over. With a quick motion that belied her age, she swatted him with it. Dylan yelped. “What was that for?”
“For not getting here sooner. Look at her.” She motioned to Maere, still leaning against the horse. “She’s near-to-exhausted and you would dally out here with pretty words and kisses.” Kate reached for Maere’s arm. “Come, dear. I’ve a warm fire inside and some hot stew for your belly.”
Maere glanced at Dylan. He sighed. “She’s right, as always. Go with her. I’ll tend the horses.”
With a nod, Maere allowed herself to be led to the cottage. At the door, Kate glanced back. “You can be such a man sometimes, Dylan. I thought I raised you better than this.” With a cackle of laughter, she slammed the cottage door shut.
By the time Dylan had fed and watered the horses, it was near dark. He felt a twinge of sadness as he walked to the only home he’d known since his father died. What would time have brought to his and Maere’s families, were it not for Eugis’s interference?
A long, deep sigh escaped him and he drew himself up. There would be no living in the past, only the present. And he would make the best of the future, one that contained Maere once again. Ah, but he was thankful to the gods and goddesses he had her back, safe from Eugis. He meant to make good on his promise to Manfred and would continue to protect her for all of their days.
He stopped and looked up at the sky, faint lights from distant stars beginning to appear. Crossing his arms, Dylan leaned against the doorway. There, rising above the trees, a small sliver of moon glowed bright. “Nimue,” he whispered. “Maere always prayed to you when we were children. I pray to you now.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Sorrow tugged at him, at his heart. “Please, Goddess of the Moon, see my love whole and happy. See her free of her sadness and pain.” After a few more moments, he turned and entered the small dwelling.
Inside, he found Kate at the table, spinning yarn from the pile of loose wool resting in her lap. The simple wood bobbin jumped up and down with a twirling motion, making small tapping sounds against the old plank floor. It was a comforting sound Dylan remembered from his childhood. And there was Maere, curled up on a straw cushion by the fire and covered with a thick blanket, fast asleep.
“Sit, boy,” Kate said quietly. “There’s warm cider in the pitcher there. Pour us both a cup.” She gathered up her spinning and tucked it aside, in a tree-bark box near her feet. She then turned in her chair and faced Dylan. Kate reached for his hand and Dylan met hers halfway. She smiled. “‘Tis good to have you here again. I have missed you.”
“I have missed you as well. But I have a feeling it hasn’t been that long since you saw me.” He raised the cup to his lips and took a long drink.
“Whatever are you talking about, boy?”
“I see an owl feather on the arm of your chair.”
Kate looked down and cursed. “Damn feathers. Now don’t go spreading idle gossip about that. I was just helping out where I could. Someone needed to remind the blackbird to stop sticking her beak where it doesn’t belong.”
Dylan chuckled and then grew serious again. “I promised her Da, Kate, I’d keep her safe. And I couldn’t. She’s been through so much. I failed her all these years.”
“You did not fail me, Dylan.” He and Kate both turned to find Maere sitting up, her legs drawn close against her breast, her arms wrapped around them. “You are a good man and I will never blame you for what happened.”
“Maere—”
“Nay. Let me speak, Dylan.”
She stood and walked toward them. The firelight cast a warm glow about her body. Or was it her magic? It mattered not, she held him transfixed.
“These past weeks I’ve been wracked with guilt that I was the cause of all this— the death of our loved ones, Eugis’s evil. All because of the circumstances of my birth. I fear what I carry inside will always cause those who demand power to hunt me down.” She poured herself a bit of cider, holding the cup tight to keep her hands from shaking. Maere took a deep breath and continued. “But I have been dreaming while I slept just now. And in the dreaming, I’ve come to understand, at least in a small part, that I need not blame myself.” She touched Dylan’s face. “And you shouldn’t fault yourself either. ‘Twas none of it your doing.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Kate said.
“I’m not wrong. Dylan is not to blame,” Maere insisted.
“Not that part. The part about fearing what you carry inside. What Eugis and men like him do not understand is you must give of yourself freely and with love.” She waved her hand. “Your magic can’t be taken or forced away in any manner. It can only be shared when you are ready for the sharing.”
“Eugis destroyed our families and now he is dead because of his thirst for power.” Dylan shook his head. “And I’m glad of it.”
“Agreed.” Maere touched the back of his hand. “We can’t let him—or what he did to our families—continue to rule us.”
Dylan covered Maere’s hand with his and the weight of the past ten years fell off him as easy as a cloak. He kneeled by her and took her hand in his. “I love you, Maere cu Llwyr.”
She smiled and nodded. “And I, love you Dylan mac Connell.”
“Will you be my wife?”
Chapter 41
“Aye, my love. I’ll be yours.” Maere planted a gentle kiss on Dylan’s lips. He leaned forward to take more but Maere pulled away with a soft giggle. She turned to Kate. “Will you do the hand-fasting for us?”
The old woman’s eyes twinkled. “I would be honored.” She went to a small chest tucked in a corner of the room and pulled out a handful of multi-colored yarns.
“You’re certain this is what you want?” Dylan asked.
Maere poked him in the rib with her finger, making him jump. “Don’t be arguing with me, Dylan mac Connall. I have powers, you know.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “You see, Kate, already it starts.” He laughed. Here was a glimpse of the old Maere, the girl who chased fays and played hide-and-seek with the sun. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until now.
“Clasp your left hands together,�
�� Kate said as she approached the pair. As they took each other’s hands, the old woman wrapped the yarns around them, from wrists to fingertip, chanting of the colors, “Blue for understanding, yellow for harmony, brown for healing, white for protection.” She glanced up and winked. “Red for passion, green for fertility.” When she finished with the binding, she turned to Dylan. “Dylan mac Connall, state your purpose here this night.”
His eyes met Maere’s. “I take you to be my wife. Beginning this day and beyond, for all time.”
“Maere cu Llwyr, state your purpose here this night.”
She smiled at Dylan. “I take you to be my husband. Beginning this day and beyond, for all time.”
Kate placed her hand over the couple’s. “As witness to this hand-fasting, I grant that you are truly wed.” She unwound the yarns and put them back in the chest. Turning around, she found Dylan and Maere standing there, smiling at each other. “Are you needing my permission to kiss the girl now, son? You seemed to be doing a fair job earlier today.” She laughed as she headed toward the door of the cottage.
Kate took her cloak down from a peg and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I’ve been needing to gather herbs by the light of the moon. I’ll be gone this night, back on the morrow.” She winked again. “So don’t be waiting up for me. If you get my meaning.”
“By the gods, old woman,” Dylan said, “we get your meaning.” He released Maere’s hands and went to his teacher. “But it’ll be cold tonight. Are you certain about this?”
She patted his arm. “I still have my cave. Filled it myself just the other day with fresh supplies and wood for a fire.” She winked. “I had a feeling you might show up.”
Dylan laughed and opened the door. “Out with you then! And be sure to knock when you return.” He shook his head and closed the door. He went to Maere, took her hand, and led her across the room. “Come. I will show you where I grew up.” He pushed aside a curtain and revealed his small chamber, the cot against the wall, his desk still stacked with his sketches and writing. With a piece of burning tinder, he lit the few candles in the room.
Maere went to the desk and picked up one of the drawings. She was reminded of the scroll Dylan had brought to the anchorage, the one with her face on it. And here was another. And another. All drawings of her. She turned to him. “What does this mean?”
“It means I did nothing but dream of you from the day you were taken from me.” Dylan pulled her into his arms. “I have something for you.” He reached into the pouch at his waist, pulled out a piece of fabric, and handed it to her. “Do you remember this?”
As Maere unfolded the stained and torn fabric, a flash of knotted gold caught the candle flame and glinted. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Dylan! I thought I’d lost this forever.” She unpinned the garnet brooch and held it to her heart. Visions of her parents and the night they gave her this gift came to her. The night she and Dylan were betrothed. “How?” she asked.
“When I tried to pull you away from Eugis on that night, your mantle tore. All these years, I’ve kept it safe for you.” Dylan took her into his arms again, holding her tight against him. He kissed her.
Maere gently laid the brooch on the desk and wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting his passion. He scooped her up and carried her to his bed, gently placing her on top of the coverlet. He stood above her and pulled his shirt over his head. Maere reached up to touch him. He gently guided her hand away. “Touch me now and we’ll be finished before we start,” he whispered, his voice husky.
He untied his leggings and braes, letting them drop at his feet. All that remained was his undergarment and that beautiful gold torque his father had given him their betrothal night. Maere reached up again and pulled him down. He fell gently atop her and covered her mouth with his.
Such fire Maere had never known! Not even when she burned with her power could it match this joining of their mouths. Searching, tongues touching, filling her with the greatest of desire.
Dylan rose slightly on one arm. She leaned up to catch his mouth, but he moved his head, eluding her. “Are you sure you’re ready? I would not rush you, love.”
Maere answered by unfastening her dress and easing out of it. “Will you be helping me with my shift, or do I have to do it myself?”
A low growl came from the back of Dylan’s throat as he claimed her mouth once more. His hands swept up and over her sides, then back down again. He found the edges of her shift and helped pull it over her head.
Maere undid the last of his garments and he kicked them off and out of the way. She ran her fingers over his chest. When Dylan moaned, she grew bolder and allowed her hands to travel further down his body, claiming him with a tight squeeze.
“Sweet Danu,” he whispered between kisses. Leaving her mouth, he traveled down her throat, sucking and nibbling until Maere was writhing beneath him. Going lower still, he cupped her full breasts with his hands, kissing first one, then the other, teasing the nipples with his tongue before fully enveloping one with his mouth.
Maere let out a ragged sigh as her senses took over, lost in this moment of pleasure. “What magic is this?” She was breathless as his hands traveled over her belly and gently parted her legs. His fingers dipped within, then without, the tension in her body growing with each movement. Maere grew hotter and hotter until she thought she’d burst. “Dylan.” He continued on, relentless in his task.
“Dylan,” she whispered his name a thousand times over. “Dylan.”
She pulled him roughly to her, claiming his mouth once more. Instinctively, Maere began to move her hips against his. “Take me.” Dear Mother, the fire would consume her. “Now.”
Dylan groaned again. With a single movement, he was inside her, swaying his hips side to side, savoring the tightness of this woman, his love, his wife.
Maere moved against him and he thrust again. She met his passion with her own. And as the tension continued to build in her, so did her power, until the two were as entwined as their bodies, hearts and souls touching. “Ah, love,” she cried out as the light enveloped them and she reached her peak. Higher and higher she went, taking Dylan with her. She squeezed him tight between her legs. He tensed and thrust deep, exploding within her, the light of her magic consuming them both.
“I love you, Maere cu Llwyr,” he whispered.
“And I, you, Dylan mac Connell,” she whispered back.
About the Author
Teri Barnett is a bestselling author, award-winning artist, and an award-winning commercial interior designer who brings a lifetime of learning and exploration to her writing, workshops, and art. She currently lives in Indianapolis with a bossy black cat who’s earned her own hashtag, #theblackcatlou.
When Teri isn’t busy working on her next book or redesigning the world, you can find her doing the artist thing in her studio, fighting the good fight, or riding through the corn tunnels of Indiana on her motorcycle.
You can visit Teri online at www.teribarnett.com to learn more about her books and subscribe to her newsletter. Follow Teri Barnett on BookBub and Amazon.