“Give unta us the blessin’ of the blossoms and the gift of creatures here in these lands ta bear offspring,” Fallon beseeched.
The Bryan picked up his pace, changing direction and moving directly toward Fallon.
Kane began to run.
“Bestow on us wisdom ta honor your ascendancy over all things. In the lightin’ of these Bealtuinn fires may we find fulfillment of passions in the flames. May the power of winter be broken!” Fallon cried out. She halted and spread her arms wide. “‘Tis done!”
“Let us eat and be merry!” someone shouted.
Crossing paths with the fae, Kane halted and drew his weapon, knowing full well the faerie had the magic to pass directly through him, disregard the blade, yet Kane did not know what else to do.
But The Bryan halted in front of Kane, and looking directly into Kane’s eyes, he crooked a mocking smile. Before Kane could blink, the faerie was gone.
Twisting to look over his shoulder, Kane’s eyes snapped to Fallon. She had retrieved her robe to cover herself and was sitting on the ground, amongst the clans. In a possessive suggestion, sensing The Bryan was still nearby, Kane stalked back to the gathering and positioned himself at Fallon’s side, his hip touching hers.
Fallon’s only acknowledgement of Kane’s presence was to shift her bottom away from him, but as she did, Kane shifted with her. Fallon continued to shift and Kane continued to follow until there was no more room for Fallon to go, her opposite hip abutting up against Alanna, who sat to her other side.
Fallon suddenly found herself squashed between her friend and Kane.
As Alanna felt the increased pressure from Fallon’s body, she turned to look at her and saw Kane too, pressed up against Fallon.
Alanna snorted.
“Well now, this be cozy,” she said and shoved a trencher of food at Fallon.
Jerking the platter from Alanna’s hands, Fallon scowled, passing the food to Kane whilst keeping her irritated gaze on Alanna.
Fallon leaned in and whispered, “He will no’ go away.”
Alanna cranked her head back and with an utmost serious expression she raised her brows. “Do ye wish him ta go?”
“I….” Fallon opened her mouth to speak, but her jaw just hung there with no more words coming out. To say she wanted Kane to leave would be a blatant lie. And druids never lied.
Fabricated a bit occasionally, but did not lie.
Crooking a finger under Fallon’s chin, Alanna closed Fallon’s lax mouth. “‘Tis what I thought.”
There was smug edge in Alanna’s voice that had Fallon sighing in defeat. “What shall I do, Alanna?”
“Enjoy his company.” Alanna bit into her bannoch. She noticed that Kane devoured his fare like a man desperate to fill some insatiable need which seemed to have nothing to do with the food he was ingesting.
And he was, though food was no great substitute for the sensations that failed to subside. Sitting so close to Fallon was causing Kane’s manly hungers to rise.
It was nearly more than he could withstand.
Never could Kane recall desiring a woman with such ferocity as he did Fallon.
Heaving a sigh, Kane scooped a bit of haggis to eat, and then stuffed his mouth with fruited bread. He washed it down with his wine, wishing the drink were more potent.
“Swallow it up and do no’ let it come back,” Alanna said. Reaching around Fallon, she refilled Kane’s mug from the flagon she held.
Kane chuckled, accepting the drink.
As the celebration progressed, dish after dish was passed, drink after drink was swigged. What food remained after the feast would be buried as an offering to the earth. To save the leavings to be consumed the following day was considered ill-luck.
But for now, the villagers took their fill.
Except for Fallon.
She did not eat—could not eat, not with the churning in her belly that was something other than hunger.
It was nerves.
And rarely did Fallon feel uneasy, but with Kane so near to her the feeling refused to settle.
Swallowing hard, Fallon watched as lovers leapt the now low-burning flames, announcing their aim to marry. They would handfast for a year and a day. At the next Bealtuinn, the couples could choose to stay together or part ways dissolving any further obligation between.
Whatever the decision, any children resulting from such greenwood joinings were considered offspring of the spirits, and the care of them would be shared by each of the clans.
Four children resulted from last season’s pairings and Fallon could almost predict which of the pairs would separate, founded on their behavior during the past season and the behavior she was witnessing at the moment. Clyde Stukly, who handfasted with Cordelia Mckie last season, had his hand beneath Tara Lobdale’s skirts, unconcerned that Cordelia took to the forests with Rhys Gairden. And Dallas Athol and Dermot Egan who paired last Bealtuinn were nowhere to be seen, though Fallon knew they were not off together, having observed each of them creeping off with different partners.
Others, as well, were beginning to succumb to salacious intoxications, though Fallon had less concern for their doings. Those mates who were committed one to the other for a number of seasons, it was expected they would sample variety in the flesh this eve.
Fallon inhaled the still fragrant air, and observing the cheery sights and the sounds of merriment amongst the clans.
And then the frenzy began.
All were becoming intoxicated—on the drink, on the excitement of the growing season, on the fire-struck enchantments of the Bealtuinn eve.
Those not otherwise occupied ushered the children off to bed to hide their innocent eyes from the fertility rites that followed the feast.
Fallon sat quietly, and to her pleasure, Kane remained at her side. She half expected he would seek his lusts, since it was an eve of open freedom to do so, but he did not.
Women began stripping their clothes and the men followed. Wedding vows were tossed to the wind, and married or not, many villagers paired off, some rutting in full view of the gathering, whilst others scattered to the forests beyond.
Some were merely at ease to dance and sing around the pyres, Alanna amongst them. Naked and wild, she pulled her plait free, and romped about the flames.
Kane watched her and the other women for a bit, admiring their nude, female bodies, as did the other men who had yet to meet with a lover.
Fallon also watched the lionizing clans. During prior Bealtuinn celebrations she never paid them much heed. After offering her obligatory blessings, she usually retired early to sup with her father. She could not have cared less as to what proceeded with the clans after she departed, though Fallon was well aware of their doings, mostly from overhearing the tittle-tattle that ensued the following day.
But this eve she remained, observing the dancing and singing and the rutting—especially the rutting—with intense curiosity.
Aye, tonight she stayed, and was loath to admit why.
It was Kane.
Despite the worry over what could befall him, Fallon found it difficult to break away from him. Was it because twice he had caught her faerie eyes, or was it her human side that beckoned her to be near the warrior?
She thought about her father and the madness he succumbed to after his romp with the queen faerie. Though others had told her he was once the wisest of druids, Fallon only knew him as a witless man.
If she took Kane to her bed could she resist snatching Kane’s gaze, risking that he too, would become the same?
Nay. She could not.
Rising to her feet, Fallon snatched a torch newly lit by the sacred fires and started to walk away, but halted when she felt a hand wrap around her ankle.
“Do no’ leave, Fallon,” Kane requested.
Fallon closed her eyes and summoned every power of will within her.
“I must attend ta me papa. Please….” She begged he would adhere. “Release me.”
Much to her relief, Ka
ne let go. Without a glance backwards, Fallon left the knoll and the festivities, heading off into the darkness.
Chapter Eight
He followed her, of course.
Snatching a torch of his own to light his way, Kane trailed just a short distance behind Fallon as she made her way down the path. Though he was close enough for her to be aware of his presence, not once did she speak or turn around.
But Kane had to be sure she was protected. The Bryan was lurking about. Of that, Kane was certain. And as long as the veils between this and the otherworld were thinned, Fallon’s existence on earth would be threatened.
On the morrow’s daylight breaking, the faerie-man would no longer be free to roam in this his realm, as the shrouds would be congealed. Fallon would be safe, at least until the Samhuinn celebrations following the harvest season, when once again the wall separating their worlds would wither.
By then however, Kane would be long-departed from the village, thinking of the druid woman no more.
Such foolishness!
Kane winced.
He was deceiving himself if he believed that Fallon Moireach would ever leave his head….
Or his heart.
It was then Kane became fully conscious of his own intent and his emotions. His desire for Fallon went beyond the lust that failed to fade.
He was falling in love with her.
How was it possible? They had just met this very day. Pondering that for a moment, Kane wondered if it was her faerie blood that charmed him. Twice over he gazed into her eyes, after all.
Nay.
Kane was certain there was a definitive between enchanted possession and true human emotion. He knew his own heart, and what it revealed to him now was comfortable and sincere. It felt virtuous and just—untainted.
Of this, his mind was decisively clear.
What he would do about it was decisively unclear.
Turning down the path that led to Fallon’s home Kane appraised his surroundings, searching for The Bryan. He heard a door creak shut as Fallon went inside. But he refused to depart even though any faerie was forbidden to enter a house uninvited.
Particularly with the rowan wreath hung upon the entry.
Kane would sleep upon the ground this night, just to ensure The Bryan did not show his face and attempt to lure Fallon to him.
Amidst making this decision, Kane heard the creaking of the dwelling’s door once more and Fallon stepped outside. She no longer carried the torch and Kane noticed a glow coming from within the dwelling, likely from the hearth, newly stoked with the Bealtuinn flame Fallon carried inside.
Fallon released a heavy sigh when she spied that Kane was still present. Brushing by him, she shook her head as Kane followed behind her. Still saying nothing to him, Fallon departed from the path and moved into the woods. Deeper and deeper she treaded, the sounds of twigs snapping and foliage crunching beneath her feet, until it became so tall and thick it was impossible to stray any further.
“Do ye wish fer me ta set the forest afire?” Kane asked, referring to the torch he carried.
Glancing around, Fallon determined she had no choice but to return the way she came. “I did no’ ask ye ta pursue me, warrior.”
With that, Fallon brushed by Kane once more.
“Fallon?”
“Aye?” She halted her steps.
“I shall be trailin’ after ye.” Kane spoke to her back.
“I prefer you do no’.”
“I must.”
“Why?”
“I be lost.”
“Ah.” Fallon chuckled. “Well I can no’ leave ye ta rot in the forests.”
“‘Twould be much appreciated.”
“This be the way.” Fallon started forward, leading Kane through the brush until they were once again on the path.
“Now then, I shall go this way.” Fallon pointed down the path, and then circling her arm around, she indicated the opposite direction. “And ye shall go that way.”
“Nay,” Kane said, cuffing his hand around her wrist. “Look inta me eyes, Fallon.”
Ignoring his request, Fallon closed her lids and took a quick breath. “Why do ye insist on protectin’ me, Kane Siosal?”
What could he say? Because I am drawn ta ye, Fallon, because I want ta bed ye, because I want ta kiss yer beautiful lips until the stars fade away?
“The Bryan—”
“Is no’ a concern,” Fallon interrupted.
Dropping her head to the ground she smiled. It was admirable that Kane wished to guard her from the faerie when most would have run off with fear.
But Fallon was needless of Kane’s protection.
She, in like, was needless of his hand upon her as such. His touch was confusing her senses, stirring unprompted feelings deep within her that were both unwanted and wanted at the same time.
Regardless, she failed to pull away.
“The faerie-man was forcin’ his way with ye, when last the two of ye met.”
“True,” Fallon agreed. “He took liberty beneath me skirts, but ‘twould have been dire punishment for him by ruling fae had he persisted.”
She paused. “Unless, of course, I invited him. Rest with assurance, Kane,‘twill no’ happen.”
Lifting her head, Fallon looked over her left shoulder, giving him her profile. His hand slid from her wrist and Kane held Fallon’s hand as he stepped a bit closer to her. He was pleased she did not protest the contact. It was the truth she spoke, that a fae seeking her was of no worry if she refused him. Still, he was opposed to leaving Fallon’s side.
“‘Tis dark in the forests and I thought ye might not be able ta see yer way,” Kane offered, lifting the torch slightly. It was a fair reason to accompany her.
“I be able ta negotiate these woodlands with me eyes closed, which they are most of the time.” Fallon chuckled. “Me vision is verra acute in the darkness.”
Ah, Kane thought. He wondered how she managed the forest so easily with it being so black. He should think on another reason to stay by her side.
“The wolves, they howl this eve and I thought ye might be afraid of becomin’ their prey.” Unconsciously, Kane skimmed his thumb in circular motions over the top of Fallon’s hand as he spoke.
“I have told ye afore, warrior. I be one with nature.” Fallon drew her brows together aware of Kane’s subtle caress, even more aware of the subtle tremor that purged from her body. Again she closed her eyes, attempting to shake away the sensation, but occluding her vision had the contrary effect. She could hear his breathing, almost feel the heat of his body that seemed to diffuse and girdle the air all around her. Even his scent tickled her more profoundly. Without her sight available, Fallon was more keenly alert to Kane’s presence, and his closeness to her. His touch was even more profound.
“The wolf will no’ harm me.” Her voice emerged in a breathy whisper. Ye, on the other hand, Kane Siosal, are a grave risk ta me wellbeing. Whenever Kane was around, Fallon seemed to have difficulty thinking clearly.
A howl rose up from the beyond the trees, and as if on cue a lone wolf appeared from the darkness, growling and bearing its teeth. With his eyes widening, Kane released Fallon and stepped in front of her. He pointed the torch in the wolf’s direction as his other hand sought his durk.
But putting proof to her words, Fallon moved around Kane’s body. He grabbed her shoulder to pull her back, but Fallon shook herself free and stepped forward. Staring directly into the wolf’s eyes, she waved a shooing hand at the beast. The wolf yapped once and then scampered back whence it came.
Now, Fallon wondered. What shall I do about the wolf lurkin’ behind me?
She could not deny that Kane intimidated her—well, if she were to admit more truthfully—her reaction to Kane intimidated her.
More than any wolf or faerie creature could possibly.
On that thought Fallon gulped when she felt Kane pressing his body against her backside. Extending an arm, he held the torch out to his side, whilst his othe
r hand slipped around Fallon’s waist, pulling her to him.
Kane began nuzzling her cheek.
“Ye are an amazin’ woman,” he whispered low, though the effect of his sumptuously deep voice rocked her like thunder.
I be an amazin’ly warm woman right now, Fallon mused silently.
Her nostrils flared, and she sucked in a short breath, whilst stiffening at the same time. It was not because she disliked the feeling of pleasure Kane was giving her, but because she was overly enjoying it—in great abundance.
And she did not wish to enjoy it.
At least she did not think she wished to enjoy it.
Cupping his hand beneath her chin, Kane tipped Fallon’s head back. Her lids reflexively closed.
Oh gods! She wished so very, very much to enjoy it!
“Look inta me eyes, Fallon,” he beckoned and touched his lips to hers.
Kane’s breath feathered across Fallon’s mouth and she nearly melted as she waited for yet another kiss from him, but thoughts of her father and his madness seeped into her brain and Fallon summoned her strength. On a shudder and an exhale, she reluctantly broke free, stepping forward and away from Kane’s embrace.
On a sigh at Fallon’s reluctance, Kane wedged the torch between two nearby boulders. His attention moved to a small grove of whitethorn trees and he walked over to examine them. After murmuring a few words of praise and gratitude, he fingered the sprouting white flowers gently. “I have a question for ye, Fallon.”
“Speak yer piece.” Fallon watched Kane’s actions with curiosity. His homage to the tree seemed an almost intimate thing.
“The scar.” Kane felt the area where Fallon healed him. “I was jest wonderin’. On me, on the child, after ye healed us, scars lingered, yet where ye cut yerself, there is no’ a trace.”
“‘Tis my will.”
Careful to avoid its sharply-pointed thorns Kane snapped a tiny blossom from the whitethorn, and held it beneath his nose. He inhaled the rich, heady scent. “Then ye are able ta heal a wound with no’ a sign of it followin’?”
He swiveled to face Fallon.
Immediately, she angled her face to the side. “Aye, that I can do.”
“Then why do ye no’ do so?”
Passions of the Flame Page 7