Crouching low, Kane summoned incredible strength against his temptation to rush upon them.
“Look inta me eyes!” The Bryan commanded.
Fallon bucked and twisted beneath his body, turning her face from side to side to avoid his attempts to kiss her. The Bryan rolled to his side taking Fallon with him. His hand came up and he squeezed her breast. So appalled was Fallon that without a twice over thought, she kneed him in the groin, the impact so painfully accurate The Bryan yelled out, releasing her immediately. He drew himself up to all fours and then lifted his head to glare at Fallon. His anger surged and he lunged, pinning Fallon to the ground.
He clenched her chin in his demanding hand. “Look at me now, wench!”
“Aye, a tantrum will surely gain me favor, faerie!” And with that, Fallon spit in his face.
Swiping at the spittle on his face, The Bryan laughed heartily at her valiant efforts “‘Twill be entertainin’ makin’ ye me whore.”
One of his hands shifted and pushed beneath Fallon’s skirts.
“Gods damn ye!” Fallon screeched.
“The thought be belated, wench.” The Bryan snickered. “I be already damned by the gods.”
At the sight of the violation against Fallon, Kane spewed a silent growl from where he watched and was seized by a possessiveness and bloodlust so fierce he was determined to kill the fae.
Lunging forward, Kane flung himself at the faerie’s back, grasping him by the shoulders. He jerked The Bryan from Fallon’s body and threw him to the ground. The faerie landed on his back. Lifting his blade Kane forcefully drove it downward but met only solid ground as The Bryan’s body dispelled before his eyes.
Reality caught in Kane’s brain. A faerie, being immortal, could not be killed. It was foolish to even try. And then he realized something else. His attempt was a dangerous thing.
Kane quaked.
Had he thrust the blade at The Bryan’s back whilst he was still atop of Fallon, his durk would have pierced her chest when the faerie vanished.
But there had to be a way to defeat the fae. Kane would ponder that dilemma at a later time. For now, he turned his attention to Fallon who cursed uproariously as she jumped to her feet and started to flee. Kane chased after her, grasping her about the waist and dragging her backwards. She fought him, her legs and arms flailing, her mouth still spewing outrageous expletives and Kane laughed at her spunk. Losing his footing they both fell and Fallon landed in Kane’s lap. She threw a tightly clenched fist at his head and Kane dodged it, jerking his head aside.
“Fallon, cease!” Kane bellowed as he snatched her wrists to stay her swinging fists. His command was followed with a grunt of pain caused from the shifting of his broken rib. “‘Tis me, Kane! The fae be gone.”
“Kane?” Fallon went still. Her eyes remained closed as her head turned toward him. She shifted where she sat, her bottom grazing his groin. “The faerie?”
Much to Kane’s dismay—or delight—he was unsure, his shaft perked to life at her movement.
“Aye, gone,” he answered through clenched teeth as Fallon exhaled in relief and then swept her arms around his neck pressing her body to him.
Pain mixed with arousal, and Kane was unable to ignore the stabbing sharpness in his ribs, but also unable to ignore the stimulating feel of Fallon’s breasts squashed against his chest.
It was an odd combination.
And it was a simple choice to toss aside the pain in lieu of desire.
Smoothing, his hands along Fallon’s sides, Kane allowed them to settle on her hips, but he resisted the urge to grind his shaft against her.
“Open yer eyes, lass,” he rasped out.
At the sound of Kane Siosal’s sensuous voice and the rousing shift of his hardness beneath her, Fallon felt a stirring in her belly. Nuzzling her face to his shoulder, she held him tightly. She very much wanted to gaze into his eyes, but dared not. Hearing him, feeling him would have to suffice.
With her lids still shut, Fallon drew back and touched her lips to his cheek.
A kiss of gratitude, she told herself, denying that the thumping of her heart was a reaction to being touched by him.
An impish grin creased Fallon’s lips. Who was she trying to fool? Being held by Kane felt rather pleasing.
And her need for soothing from her frightful encounter with the faerie was a good excuse to linger overlong in Kane Siosal’s embrace—though Fallon had to admit she was not overmuch distressed by the event. The faerie—what had Kane called him? Aye, The Bryan—incited more fury in her than fear.
But with her fury now subsiding, Fallon discovered that deep inside, her carnal cravings were demanding to be freed.
She was helpless to disregard it. Druid oath insisted she forever tell the truth to all, whether it be her gods, or her people, or even to herself. Though this particular truth was not very difficult nor was it a dreadful thing to confess to.
Curling closer to Kane, she sighed.
Perhaps Alanna is right, she thought. If Kane Siosal be willin’, why no’ seek me pleasures?
After all, it was the eve of Bealtuinn, when discretion was unbridled. Why should I be deprived?
Abandoning her human logic to resist the sexual spoils, Fallon surrendered to her faerie lust. She lifted her face and pressed her lips to Kane’s chin.
On an intake of breath, Kane cranked back his head and then tipped it forward to gaze down at Fallon as he exhaled. He half expected to find himself looking into her eyes, but nay, they remained shut.
Though he was disappointed at that, Kane could not ignore Fallon’s sensual posturing. Her face was tipped up, and her lips … aye … her lips were full and inviting.
The sight was too enticing for Kane to resist.
Lowering his head, he covered her lips with his mouth, a gentle taking, coaxing them softly. And she responded with an open request, parting her lips so he could slip his tongue inside. And when Fallon’s tongue eagerly slid along his, Kane’s body quaked and came roaring to life.
Never before had he been so intensely aroused by a woman.
The feel of her nestled in his arms, how easily she accepted his embrace and how tantalizing her lips were to fully taste, had his flesh raging with desire and his mind reeling with thoughts of her naked body pressed beneath him.
Kane’s hands skimmed upward, seeking, yearning, and settling on one of her breasts.
A perfect fit, he thought as he fondled it, pleased when her nipple pushed through her garments, peaking against the palm of his hand.
She gave no protest when he pushed her brat aside. And Kane noticed that the lavender color in the plaid matched one of the three colors in his own brat—fate perhaps?
Again, he was reminded of her eyes, and his attention shifted upward, as he tried to imagine the lovely lavender hidden beneath her closed lids.
He longed to see them once more, but Kane would be patient. In time, Fallon might trust him enough to know that gazing into them would not cause him to lose his wits. Of this, Kane was convinced, believing that his mind was stronger than her faerie persuasions.
For now, he concentrated on his fingers, which found the bindings holding her leine closed. He deftly untied them, pushed the garment from her shoulders and then further still, to reveal her breasts to his eyes. His mouth watered and his shaft surged as he moved from kissing her throat, seeking the tender flesh of her breast, craving to taste her there as well.
Fallon responded with a soft mew. Tipping her head back, she exhaled slowly as Kane kissed her throat and then skimmed lower until his mouth was on the swell of her breast. She pushed toward his mouth in a beckoning gesture to have the peak of her breasts suckled.
Ye were more than right, Alanna, Fallon mused. Kane’s seductive skills were setting her ablaze. Never had she been so amorously inflamed by a man.
Not that she tried over much. Not that she wanted to try over much. But with Kane—there was something about the man she was unable to defy.
“
Do ye want me, Fallon?” Kane asked, his voice revealing his arousal with its raspy tenor. He would proceed no further unless she gave consent.
“Aye,” Fallon returned as she pressed her palms to his chest. “‘Twould be an interestin’ adventure.”
Kane chuckled at her choice of words and then lowered his head to take her breast into his mouth.
Moaning with delight, Fallon’s palms mapped the contours of his muscular chest through his garment. Soon she would be exploring his flesh.
Such a rousing thought!
Sensations began stirring between her thighs, and Fallon shifted in Kane’s lap, yielding to the yearning to rub against his groin. Her hands moved lower, to grasp Kane’s side.
But suddenly he stiffened. And on a fierce jolt he yelped.
It was not a sound of pleasure.
Fallon’s brows drew together. She felt moisture on her palm and a lump beneath the cloth.
Opening her eyes, she looked down as she pulled away from Kane and turned her hand over.
“Ach, Kane!” Her hand was bloody. “Ye are injured, man.”
“‘Tis naught,” Kane answered, but suddenly all he could taste was pain.
Fallon slid from his lap, her hands fumbling at the ties of his leine. Frustrated that she was unable get them loosened quickly enough, Fallon relented and instead ripped the garment open.
She grimaced at the wound.
“Naught, ye say?” Fallon clucked her tongue. ‘Tis a bone there, Kane.”
“‘Twill heal.”
“‘Twill fester!” With that, Fallon pushed at his shoulder. “Now lie back, man.”
Obeying, Kane reclined to the dirt, the pain of his wound dousing his lust. He preferred it the other way around.
Reaching into one of the three pouches tied at her waist, Fallon scooped out a powdery substance and then cupped her hands together, lifting them into the air as she chanted an orison.
“What do ye, Fallon?” Kane lifted his head to watch her.
“I be healin ye.” With that, she blew at her palm, sending the dust toward his face.
As the substance blustered in his eyes, Kane squeezed his lids shut and turned his head aside. Unintentionally, he sucked in a breath, inhaling a hefty dose of the powder. Within moments his head felt heavy and it thumped to the ground.
Withdrawing a ground herb from a second sack, Fallon once again lifted her hands in offering to the gods and then patted the substance on Kane’s wound. With the sharp edge of her blade, she slashed her palm and pressed it against Kane’s broken flesh where the bone broke through. Her healing blood seeped as she pushed the bone back into place, drawing only a slight grunt from Kane, as he was well muddled by her remedies.
Fallon held her hand in place, closing her eyes to feel the energies of curative power that strummed through her veins and course directly into Kane’s body. She sensed the bone mending and felt the wound sealing beneath her palm.
Quietly she gave thanks to the heavens that bestowed on her the druid gift of healing, as she dropped her head in humbled praise.
“Ach! So much for the druid oath of devotion ta friendship!”
“Oh.” Fallon’s gaze snapped up to the edge of the clearing where Alanna stood with her arms akimbo and the most piqued expression on her face. Fallon had been so preoccupied with Kane, she had forgotten that Alanna had swooned on the path.
How unforgivably self-servin’ of me!
“Here I be layin’ in the dirt from me fright whilst ye are cavortin’ in the forests.’”
“I am no’ cavortin’.” Fallon scowled. Was Alanna hiding in the bushes this time as well? “The man be injured and I be healin’ him.”
“Aye,” Alanna nodded. “Far be it from me ta question a druid who heals a man with her breasts.”
With her eyes widening, Fallon looked down and grimaced with chagrin at her exposed chest. Quickly, she pulled up her leine to cover herself, redoing the ties. She snatched up her brat and threw it over her shoulders.
Standing, she walked to where Alanna stood and then cast a glance behind her to look at Kane. He was a tempting man, even in his sleep.
Fallon sighed.
“Ah, ye like him.” Alanna grinned at her.
“Nay,” Fallon denied.
“Then why were yer breasts flappin’ in the breeze?”
Fallon’s gaze shifted from Kane to Alanna. “I jest be experimentin’ ‘tis all. ‘Twas a mistake ta dally with him.”
“Humbuggery!” Folding her arms Alanna stared smugly at Fallon. “Yer fancy for him is etched all over yer face, no’ ta mention the suckling marks on yer breasts.”
With an intense glower, Fallon grabbed Alanna’s wrist and began tugging on her. “I have ta be gettin’ ready for the rituals.”
She would inspect her skin later.
“Yer bein’ a fool!” Alanna stumbled forward as Fallon dragged her. “He dost no’ fear lookin’ upon ye, lass.”
There was merit in Alanna’s words, Fallon accepted. No male for as long as she was aware of them had ever dared to give a single glance to her. All men feared her—feared succumbing to lunacy—so she was told and she believed.
“I will no’ discuss this further, Alanna.” Again Fallon tugged on her friend’s arm, but Alanna dug in her heels.
“Are ye jest gonna be leavin’ him there?” Alanna looked empathetically at the slumbering Kane Siosal.
Blowing out an exasperated breath of air, Fallon released her hold on Alanna. “He shall awaken healed and hearty, I assure ye.”
“And layin’ in the dirt, alone and forgotten.”
Fallon pursed her lips in irritation at Alanna’s goading. Spinning on her heels she headed toward the path. “I be walkin’ away now, Alanna!”
“Tsk, tsk.” Alanna placed a palm to the center of her chest as she called to Fallon’s back. And then she started to follow her. “What manner of concern ye have fer yer friends. ‘Tis shameful!”
“I am no’ listenin’ ta ye, Alanna!” Fallon returned without looking back.
Chapter Six
Kane awoke in the dirt, free of pain, his hand immediately seeking the wound he suffered, but it was gone. He could feel nothing where the bone was prior, except the slight hardened ridge of a scar.
He also sought out Fallon. But in like with his wound, she too had disappeared, though the taste of her still remained impressed in his memory.
For a moment Kane worried that The Bryan had returned and seized her, so he whistled for his horse and then frantically searched the forest and the paths for Fallon or Alanna, or signs that there might have been a struggle.
Much to his relief, Kane found the two women back at the village, and he followed closely by them as they went about their preparations for the feast and rituals forthcoming.
He and Fallon did not speak. In fact, she refused to acknowledge him despite his efforts to engage her. Alanna, on the other hand, was relentlessly garrulous towards Kane, bending his ear until near dusk, poking and prodding him for information. Where were ye sired … how many kin do ye have … how did ye earn the honor of a thrice wrapped brat … and the colors, did ye notice one of them matches Fallon’s eyes?
It was almost like the scrutiny he had undergone at his request to take arms for the future king.
Kane politely answered most of Alanna’s questions as best he could, all whilst wishing silently that she would make herself scarce so that he might speak with Fallon. But she stuck to them like thistles in molasses.
“Do ye have any bastards?”
Reacting to the bold question, Fallon stopped pounding the oats in front of her and glared across the table where Alanna was working.
But Alanna paid Fallon no heed, and instead, focused on shaping her bannochs.
“Pleasant good day.” A woman approached, carrying a platter of steaming shellfish.
Looking up, Alanna swiped the sweat from her brow. “And a pleasant day ta ye, as well, Lila.”
Alanna’s eyes dropp
ed to the platter and a wily grin began spreading across her lips. “I shall be takin’ that.”
Lila handed over the platter, and Alanna turned to Fallon. She held the platter at arms length, reaching across the table and sticking it beneath Fallon’s nose. “Care for a bite?”
Fallon scooped her pounded oats into a bowl. With a resounding thud, she dropped the bowl in front of Alanna and scowled at her.
Shellfish was a commonly used and very potent aphrodisiac—strawberries were another. There was no misunderstanding Alanna’s aim.
Shrugging off Fallon’s obvious irritation, Alanna placed the platter to the side and reached for a nearby bowl. This too she shoved beneath Fallon’s nose. “Strawberry?”
Lila’s eyes widened. “Ye are a brave woman ta taunt a druid fae.”
“Ye have no idea, Lila,” Fallon responded through gritted teeth. “A wart would look mighty fine in the center of yer nose, Alanna.”
“Ach! I’ll have no part in this,” Lila exclaimed as she turned about and walked away.
Alanna snorted. “Temper, druid, temper.”
She shook her finger at Fallon.
Fallon drew a few irritated breaths through her flared nostrils, silently chanting. Thou shalt no’ lose thy temper in the face of being provoked … thou shalt no’ lose thy temper in the face of being provoked … thou … shalt no’ … turn thy friend inta a toad, though shalt no’ turn thy friend inta a toad … though I would be sorely pleased ta do so….
Kane watched the byplay between Fallon and Alanna as he finished pouring a bucket of water into a large pot that would be used to boil the haggis. Dropping the bucket to the ground, he leaned against the table and picked up his ale. Scratching his whiskered chin, he pensively studied the two women. It was difficult to recognize their friendship by the manner in which Fallon was glowering and Alanna was smirking.
Passions of the Flame Page 5