Passions of the Flame

by Passions of the Flame (NCP) (lit)

  Hurt—abominable hurt—spread across her face.

  “Ye must listen, Fallon,” Kane pleaded. She was misconstruing what occurred.

  “I think….” Fallon released a low, anguished cry. “…I be hearin’ enough.”

  The Bryan stepped closer to Fallon, holding out his hand. “Come to me, druid, your mother awaits.”

  Me mother? Fallon’s eyes dropped away from Kane, the faerie catching her ear. All of her life she wanted to know her mother—the enchanted mother who stole her father’s mind away.

  “Nay!” Kane rushed forward, but The Bryan waved a hand and Kane’s movements became progressively sluggish until he could go no further. Kane likened it to being trammeled in a thickened pit of mud from which there was no escape.

  “Ye will take me ta me mother?” Fallon asked The Bryan whilst ignoring Kane.

  “Look into my eyes and it will be done.” Reaching out, The Bryan took Fallon’s hand into his own.

  Her head lifted.

  “Fallon, Nay!” Kane shouted. He was desperate to tell her the truth. “I did no’….”

  His voice faded.

  His mouth moved but no words could be heard, and Kane knew in an instant that The Bryan’s magic was the culprit.

  “Why would me mother send ye in her place?” Fallon queried.

  Mist began swirling around them, and Fallon seemed oblivious to Kane’s distressed shouts, though she was well aware of the shattering that ravaged her heart.

  Still holding her hand, The Bryan explained, “The fae cross the veils seeking mortal lovers, druid. Your mother couldn’t come for this reason because….”

  “She is me mother.” Fallon finished his sentence. It was quite easy to understand. Her mother could not bring Fallon to the faerie realm unless she made Fallon her paramour.

  What mother would do such a thing?

  Nodding, The Bryan softened his gaze, feigning concern and tenderness for Fallon.

  “Give me your eyes, Fallon.” His voice whispered a gentle beckoning.

  Fallon’s gaze moved toward the faerie.

  Her heart wept.

  Kane had betrayed her.

  He had taken her maidenhead on a wager, stolen her love in a bargain and for nothing more than a sack of silver. She wanted no part of mortal life or mortal men anymore.

  Nay! Nay! Nay! Kane mouthed silently as he pushed and pushed at the invisible sludge, frantic to break free.

  And then it was too late. He watched in horror and tremendous grief as Fallon’s eyes met the fae’s. The mist around them condensed, shrouding Fallon and The Bryan from his sight.

  Within moments, the mist cleared, and when it did, Fallon—his love, and The Bryan had vanished.

  All that remained was Kane’s durk, lying in the dirt, the whitethorn he presented to Fallon atop of it.

  Chapter Ten

  “What’s wrong with her?” Gwyndolen took in Fallon’s disheveled appearance as she looked to where Fallon slumped motionless on the floor.

  Moros moved to a chaise and reclined on it. “Beats the hell out of me.”

  “I highly doubt the hell will ever get beaten out of you.” Armond entered the palace’s grand hall, his stroll an easy glide. His eyes dropped to Fallon and he frowned at the tangled mass of hair that fell over her bowed face. “I see you’ve gotten your way, my queen.”

  “I’m wondering at what price.” Gwyndolen knelt in front of Fallon. “She’s a mess.”

  “A simple mood swing,” Moros said, addressing the faerie queen. “You of all should know that faeries are prone to erratic fits, since you’ve had many.”

  “This is no mood swing!” Gwydolen placed her hand beneath Fallon’s chin. “And I’ll ignore that last comment.”

  Tipping Fallon’s face upward the queen examined it. She pressed her lips together, concern wrinkling her brow. “Ach! She has emotional suffering. I can see it in her eyes.”

  “Mother?” Fallon mumbled. Her heart should have felt elation, but it only felt pain.

  “She’ll mend,” Moros answered in an indifferent manor as he casually inspected his fingernails.

  Gwyndolen pulled Fallon’s green cloak open. She drew back upon seeing the virginal blood gracing her daughter’s inner thighs. “What have you done? Did you ravish her?”

  “I’ve done no such thing!” Moros bolted upright from the couch. “I haven’t a need to force my way with women. They freely come to me.”

  Armond snorted. “Freely as long as you’ve enchanted them.”

  “I take offense to that, Armond.” Moros glowered at the king as he resettled himself atop the sofa.

  “I take offense at your presence, fae.”

  “Enough of this squabbling!” Gwyndolen stood, her expression turning sharp with warning. “Who was the man that took my daughter’s virginity?”

  Moros shrugged a shoulder. “Just some half-wit Gael. No one of import.”

  “Hmm,” Gwyndolen scoffed. “I think he was of significant import to my daughter by the looks of her. How did you lure her away?”

  “Gwyndolen,” Armond beseeched her. “You have your daughter. Just leave it alone.”

  Shaking her head, the faerie queen reached for Fallon grasping her by the upper arms, urging her to a stand. A single tear trickled down her daughter’s cheek and Gwyndolen’s annoyed demeanor immediately softened.

  Fallon lifted her lids.

  Their eyes met and Fallon saw lavender. Their eyes were the same.

  “I want to know how you swayed my daughter’s gaze, when it’s so obvious she pines for another.” With a protective embrace around Fallon’s shoulders, Gwyndolen led her to an empty chaise and sat with her.

  Moros grinned. “She was unable to resist me.”

  “My daughter is strong of will, Moros! If she loved another she wouldn’t be so easily swayed.”

  Moros? Fallon looked The Bryan’s way. She knew that legendary name. Moros was an immortal of the underworld who favored bringing fate in the form of misery and doom. He was punished for it.

  “I demand you tell me,” Gwyndolen persisted. “Or else I will deny the favor I offered you to bring her here.”

  Favor? Fallon wondered. She could not stomach being a pawn in yet another game. What favor?

  Moros grunted his annoyance at the queen’s insistence of an explanation. At the same time he snared Fallon’s gaze and eyed her with carnal intent.

  Fallon shrank back. And it took tremendous strength—faerie strength, to pull her sight away from him, but she managed to look away.

  A full-blooded human would be at his mercy.

  “Very well, if you must know,” Moros began. It should be enough that he brought the queen her daughter, but it wasn’t. “I won her in a wager.”

  Fallon grimaced, and she choked out a small cry, the painful sound drawing Gwyndolen’s attention to her.

  The queen stroked Fallon’s hair. “Details, Moros.”

  “A sack of silver to the one who bedded her.”

  “What?” Gwydolen narrowed outraged eyes at Moros.

  Armond lifted curious brows toward the Greek fae. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that Moros accomplished the queen’s request in a deviant way. Taking a seat on an overstuffed chair, he rested his hands in his lap and waited to hear the rest of the tale.

  “He won,” Moros continued. “So I appeared to them to give him the silver.”

  The queen gave him a confused look. “Why would you enter such a wager?”

  “He was pursuing the druid, and was intent on having her.” Moros stared at Fallon as he spoke. “Believe me, Gwyn, there was no other way.”

  “The warrior agreed to this?” Gwyndolen’s mouth twisted with disgust. She would cross the veils and kill the man outright for bringing such grave hurt to her daughter.

  “Well, not exactly,” Moros snickered.

  Fallon went still. No’ exactly? Her heart thumped with hope.

  “This is getting quite interesting,” Armond commented.
“Please continue, I for one, want to hear more.”

  “Fallon,” Moros beckoned her and Fallon’s head snapped around, her eyes immediately locking to his.

  That he could so easily summon her left Fallon feeling dismayed. She was not in the least bit enamored by The Bryan, yet he was still able to snatch her gaze.

  “Come to me,” The Bryan said to her.

  Ill of her resolve Fallon stood and her feet moved. It irritated her tremendously, yet she was unable to defy him.

  “Sit Fallon,” Gwyndolen ordered.

  “Come to me, Fallon.”

  Standing, Moros didn’t wait for her to obey. Swaggering to Fallon, he took her hand, and led her back to his chaise. He sat back down and indicated to the floor. “Sit at my feet.”

  Fallon glared daggers at Moros. “Should I be supposin’ ye will be requestin’ fer me ta kiss them next?”

  “I might.”

  Shaking indignantly, Fallon sat on the couch, demonstrating her defiance toward him.

  Moros laughed loudly at her insolence, knowing full-well that her faerie blood would fight him. “I’m going to enjoy mastering you, druid.”

  “You will only master her until she’s learned the faerie ways, Moros.” Gwyndolen scowled. “And then you will release her.”

  “Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t,” Moros answered. He relished the seething reaction the queen expressed at his words. This was so much more entertaining than having his guts cut out before his eyes.

  “Finish the story!” Armond bellowed his impatience. “How did you acquire the queen’s daughter?”

  Never one reluctant to talk about himself, Moros relaxed into the sofa’s cushions. He summoned a drink. From the air, a human captive appeared and brought one to him immediately. After taking a sip of the scintillating fluid it contained, he set the cup aside and ordered the human away.

  He vanished.

  Moros smiled pensively. He was immensely enjoying having his magic returned, even if it was only in part. Inhaling, he began his sordid story.

  “The Gael took interest in her and it annoyed me.”

  “I’m sure it did,” Gwyndolen said.

  “The humans, ah well, you know how they fear the fae. But this Gael.” Moros shook his head with resentment. “He didn’t fear me. Nor would he concede when I told him I wanted Fallon.”

  Moros continued to convey his tale—relaying his attempt to draw Kane Siosal into a wager and how the Gael protected Fallon and captured her interest. With an arrogant beaming, Moros told them how he lured Fallon and the scheme he used that caused her to reject the Gael’s heart.

  “…and when the man, Cullen, confirmed it by reprimanding the warrior for entering any bargain with a faerie.” Moros snickered. “I nearly busted a gut with laughter the timing was so perfect.”

  “I see,” Gwyndolen ascertained. “So you revealed this pretentious plot in Fallon’s presence, to make her turn to you, to make my daughter believe her lover had betrayed her, when he most certainly did not?”

  “It worked quite well,” Moros said, waving a hand to indicate Fallon. “As you can see.”

  Staring at the glittering mist beyond the palace columns, Fallon carefully took in all that she heard, but saying nothing. Joy melted through her. Kane had not deceived her.

  Oh! She had allowed the faerie to capture her gaze and take her away….

  …from Kane.

  He must hate her for mistrusting him. Fallon released a small, pained cry. What have I done?

  “Release me,” Fallon insisted fervidly from her sitting position next to The Bryan.

  “What?” He looked at her. “I gave you no permission to speak.”

  Fallon met his eyes, and with the most obdurate of glares. With relative ease she dispelled his enchantment of her. “I say ta ye, send me back ta him!”

  “No,” he answered, a bit miffed that he was unable to hold her with his spell.

  Fallon drew back. Nay?

  The queen studied Moros with annoyance, disliking his deceitful methods and very disturbed at the disrespectful way he was treating her daughter. “You don’t own her, Moros.”

  With a grin on his face Moros propped his arms on the back of the chaise and stretched out his legs. He crossed one ankle over the other. “Oh but I do.”

  “A fae is forbidden to own another fae!” Gwyndolen protested. “It’s written in our decrees.”

  “True. But she’s only half-fae. It’s her human half I own, and a fae can own a human.” Moros paused, angling his head at a cocksure tilt, his expression smug. “By decree.”

  Gwyndolen shot to her feet. “This is absurd! When I requested you beckon my daughter, it was to keep her by your side as a mate, not as a slave!”

  Moros shrugged. “I suppose you should have thought this through better then.”

  “Deceitful!” Armond burst out laughing, slapping a hand to his knee. “I warned you, my queen.”

  “Shut up, Armond!” The queen turned a furious eye to her mate.

  “You need to calm down, Gwyndolen.” Armond stood. With his hands clasped behind his back he glided across the floor until his back was to the three of them. “As much as it loathes me to say this, Moros is correct. He claimed her, and he now owns her … er … well, at least he owns half of her.”

  Fallon shook with irritation. “I am no’ an object ta be halved and divvied up.”

  Reaching behind her head, Moros grabbed a tuft of Fallon’s hair and jerked her head back. “You will only speak when spoken to, druid.”

  “‘Tis the faerie side of me that now speaks.” Fallon glared at him rebelliously, finding enormous strength from within. “That blood ye will never conquer.”

  “Let her go!” Gwyndolen scowled. “How dare you treat my daughter as such. She is royalty.”

  “I will treat her in whatever manner I feel.” With that, Moros squeezed Fallon’s face between his hands and kissed her roughly.

  Almost immediately, a harsh yowl ripped from Moros’ mouth. It was so loud that Armond spun around to see what was happening. He hooted with laughter at the sight of Fallon’s teeth clenching down on Moros’ bottom lip.

  Moros clamped a hand at Fallon’s throat and squeezed. She released him immediately and started coughing.

  “She bit me!” Moros jerked away and glared into Fallon’s angry eyes.

  Gwyndolen’s mouth turned up into a satisfied smile. “So she did.”

  Moros’ nostrils flared as he rubbed his swelling lip. “A faerie is bound to never hurt one of their kind. You’d better learn that quickly, druid, or you will suffer gravely.”

  “‘Twas no’ the faerie blood that bit you,” Fallon snarled at him. “‘Twas the human side.”

  Crossing one arm over his body, Moros lifted his hand to strike her.

  But Armond intervened, conjuring a spell that threw the faerie to the floor. “There will be none of that, Moros.”

  Fallon jumped to her feet and scurried to her mother’s side, for protection and to put distance between her and The Bryan.

  “Come back here!” Moros said as he rose to his feet and shook off the effects of being thrown.

  “Ye shall never possess me, fae,” Fallon returned. “I shall fight ye till me last breath.”

  “Speaking of last breaths,” Armond said to Moros. “Shouldn’t your reprieve from punishment be just about near its end?”

  “How quickly we forget.” Moros strolled across the hall moving closer to Gwyndolen and Fallon. With his eyes on Fallon, he halted in front of the two women and watched as the druid averted her gaze away from him. “The queen is to seek audience with Demeter if I brought her daughter and I expect her to do so as promised.”

  So this be the favor of which they spoke of earlier. Feeling like a pawn in a meaningless game, Fallon looked at her mother’s face. “Did ye agree ta such a thin’?”

  “I’m afraid it’s true, my daughter,” Gwyndolen said regretfully.

  “‘Twas selfish, Mother.” F
allon pressed her lips into a frown, but her face suddenly expressed monumental pain when Kane returned to her thoughts. Tears welled within her, but she choked them back. “Ye did no’ consider me own wishes. I do no’ desire to be here.”

  Gwyndolen never considered that. She assumed her daughter would welcome the faerie realm with open arms. What faerie, or even half-blooded faerie would not? Where the human world was riddled with war—oppressed and bleak, this domain was such a wonderful and perfect existence.

  At least it was in Gwyndolen’s opinion.

  Something happened inside of her chest at the sight of her daughter’s afflicted expression. It was a feeling she’d never felt before.

  She felt Fallon’s deep sorrow.

  Plotting to have her daughter by her side was an enormous mistake—a difficult thing for Gwyndolen to admit to her perfect self. But despite what Armond said, she was Fallon’s mother and she most certainly bore maternal emotions for her. How could she have let her faerie selfishness get in the way of her daughter’s own wishes, her own happiness?

  Gwyndolen gazed at Fallon’s face and then stroked loving fingers along her cheek. And Fallon couldn’t help herself, she walked into her longed for mother’s embrace.

  At the tender exchange between mother and daughter, Moros snorted, drawing Gwyndolen’s attention to him.

  Moros’ expression then turned stern as his eyes shifted toward Fallon. “Look at me.”

  His voice was commanding, and the pull of it was strong on her. Fallon felt her head turn though she did not will it to do so. The Bryan speared her gaze with his eyes, the pull of it even stronger than before as he held her sight to him.

  Fallon’s head spun.

  Something was happening to her senses.

  Sorting through the odd sensations Fallon could barely rationalize it was faerie enchantment that was consuming her, forcing her eyes to linger on The Bryan, pushing her desire to move toward him. Fallon’s free will was abandoning her. And if she failed to fight it, her rational mind would vanish as well.

  The fae queen recognized the glaze that spread through Fallon’s eyes. Moros was gaining command of her daughter and Gwyndolen was powerless to break the binding spell he held over her. The enchantment was a part of the faerie’s essence—an innate gift.