Casting Dreams

by J. L. Weil

  Seeing him thrilled me, but for the first time, I could see the darkness within him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I yelled, and then winced. Raising my voice was doing nothing to help my head.

  He had such power over the elements, but there was a yearning in his eyes for something wild and reckless. I’d seen it in the wolf, but been too blinded by love to see it also in the man. “Rough night?” he asked. He lifted his hand, sweeping the pad of his thumb over my forehead. “Let me help you. I can ease your discomfort.”

  I jerked my head away from his touch, refusing to be swayed by the warmth or pull of him. “I didn’t come here for a hangover cure.”

  “I know. But all the same, why suffer? I’ll answer your questions after, but only after.”

  “Do you always get your way?” I huffed.

  “Yes. Now stay still.” He took a step toward me, a glint of impatience in his eyes. Something was bothering him.

  I stood in place, the irritation clear in my frown. I’d let him ease the agony I’d inflicted on myself. But then, he’d tell me what I wanted to know. No evading or excuses of keeping me safe. That shit wasn’t going to fly anymore.

  My gaze veered to his as he cupped my face with his hands. His eyes were cool and direct as he sent a stream of healing magick to my temples. The relief was almost instant.

  “Walk with me. I need the air.”

  I nodded, agreeing because I couldn’t stand still. The woods were full of shades of green as spring bloomed. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re the black wolf?” I didn’t believe in beating around the bush: I came here for the sole purpose of answers, and he wasn’t going to distract me with beautiful scenery or the warmth of his touch.

  “I’ve done nothing but try to protect you, but I can see in keeping who I am from you, I’ve done the thing I set out not to do—hurt you. And I’m sorry for it.” He kept a leisurely pace over the uneven path. “The black wolf does live inside me. And he grows stronger every day.”

  “How can you explain what should be impossible?” I shoved at the hair that was coming loose from my ponytail. “I’ve seen the wolf kill you.”

  “The curse,” he said simply. “I never lied or misled you. I told you I was the last Druid of Kenmare. What powers I have are my birthright, but it isn’t my only birthright.”

  “The wolf. You told me of your mother, but you failed to mention you were the black wolf. The same one I’ve seen kill you countless times. How?”

  The gleam in his gaze went dark, and the fury sprang so quick, I stumbled a step in instinctive defense. He stalked toward me, like a wolf, I thought, as if I were his prey.

  “For the sole reason of how you are looking at me now. I can taste your fear, little dove. You’ve feared the wolf all of your life, as you should. That part of me is dark and dangerous.”

  Comprehension dawned. How had I not seen? “The wolf, he wants to conquer the man—the druid.”

  His gaze stared into a patch of sunlight that streamed through the treetops. “Only one will be victor. I cannot be both druid and wolf. The powers of each will not allow it. I must choose.”

  “If the wolf wins, the man dies, is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Aye, Mirela. That is what I’m telling you.”

  “And were you ever going to tell me? Or just let me think you were dead?” I shot back.

  “When the time was right. I wanted the chance to know you, if only for a short time. I didn’t expect—”

  “For me to fall in love with you,” I finished. “And you say the wolf is cruel.” My voice was cold.

  He recoiled as if I’d struck him across the face. “I did not ask for this, or ask for you. Fate designed you for me, and fate gave me this curse.” The wind shuddered and trees shook, giving me a clue just how dangerous his temper was.

  But he wasn’t the only one whose temper was quick. “I’ve seen your fate, Conner Delany. The wolf wins. And what of me? Will I never see you again?”

  “You will. In another life. In another realm. Man or wolf, little dove, you are meant to be mine.”

  The nickname the wolf used, little dove, it sent a chill down my neck. Even knowing now it was Conner didn’t erase the fear he made me feel. The terror hadn’t been for me, but for Conner the man. I lifted my wrist, staring at the mark the black wolf—Conner— had given me, branding me as his. Did the wolf care for me, like the man? “What happens if the vision is true? What happens to us?”

  His eyes had followed mine, and he reached out, taking my wrist to trace the design with his thumb. “Isn’t it better to have loved a little than to never have loved at all?”

  “You love me?”

  “Aye, you know I do. More than I could have ever imagined. I can’t breathe without you. You chase away the loneliness, the darkness that has followed me my whole life.”

  Before our love got to really take flight, it fell apart like a house of cards, divided by a curse. “I don’t know that I can just stand aside and let you go. I don’t think I have it inside me.”

  “The wolf grows stronger every day. I can no longer keep him at bay.”

  “So that’s it? You’ve just given up?”

  “It’s not that simple, Mirela. There’s more to it. I have family, and a responsibility to a pack. I’ve come to terms with what must be done, but I wasn’t prepared for you, and what you make me feel.”

  Neither of us had been prepared for the intensity between us. It had transpired fiercely and quickly. “Everything inside me wants to argue. I don’t want to lose you, not when I just found you.”

  He shoved a hand through his windblown hair. “The situation is definitely not ideal, but we would have the full moons.”

  I leaned against a tree, breathing in the earthy morning air. My expression confused, I angled my head to side. “What is important about the full moons?”

  “It is when the veil thins, allowing the wolf to shift until the next moon.”

  Would that be enough? Staring at his face, I knew I wanted more than a few stolen nights. “And the druid? Your magick will be gone? What will happen to the Druids of Kenmare?”

  Conner stared into space, lost in his head, his expression hard to read. There was sadness and regret. “The druids will die with me. Without an heir, the magick at the stones will dispel the moment the wolf takes full possession.”

  He became quiet as we continued to walk in the woods. “And there is nothing we can do?”

  “Some fates cannot be altered,” he said. “To do so could change the destiny of others. It could change yours.”

  Panic coursed through me. “What does that mean?”

  Conner frowned. “It means, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I left Conner’s in a different state than when I arrived. My body was numb. The anger was gone. And I felt helpless.

  There was something he wasn’t telling me. A reason why he’d settled on his fate. And I couldn’t help think it had to do with me. What did he know that I hadn’t seen?

  Why was it so much harder to see my own destiny than hundreds of others?

  There was no denying that Conner’s and my destinies were interwoven. Was it possible something tragic would occur if the druid prevailed? It was all too much.

  I let the tears fall freely, weeping for the life we’d never have, for the love I’d lost, and for the man.

  I might be able to live with heartache, but it was the distrust that hurt more. He hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me the truth. Still didn’t.

  I fell asleep in front of the hearth, with dried tears tracking down my cheeks. There was a knock on the door, and I ran my hands over my face. Even as I pushed myself off the ground, I knew this wasn’t real, but a vision.

  I expected it to be Conner, and my hand hesitated on the doorknob. Did I really want to see his face? Or worse, see his death? But it wasn’t Conner. The woman standing at the door was beautiful, elegant in a simple dress of indigo.

&
nbsp; “Hello, Mirela. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  She had a voice of Ireland and eyes cool like the artic sea. “You’re Conner’s mother.” I stared for a moment, losing my manners. “Please, come in, Mrs. Delany.” I recognized her from the crystal ball. She had a face one didn’t easily forget.

  She stepped inside, a gentle smile on her lips. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about my unexpected visit, and please call me Branna.” There was power and music in her voice, the echo of white mountain tops and misty valleys. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, daughter of gypsies, and I’m sorry for how my son has handled himself with you.”

  I sighed. “Would you like to sit?” I offered, gesturing into the family room. If I’d known I would be having company, even in a vision, I might have picked up a bit. She’d come to talk about Conner, but I wasn’t positive I could without crying.

  Branna moved with quiet footsteps, her hair flowing like liquid gold over her shoulders. Her sharp gaze moved over my face, seeing the flicker of emotion I tried, but failed, to keep in check. “He’s hurt you, and I’m sorry for it.”

  I sat down on the chair across from her. “I’ll heal. In time,” I added, because how I was feeling now, I wasn’t so sure I ever would.

  “But you still love him, regardless of who he is. I’m sorry,” she said, seeing my face tighten. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable or pry. I love my son, and I want him to be happy.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “He hasn’t had an easy life, being the son of a druid and wolf, divided between two worlds.”

  I fumbled with the rings on my fingers, unsure what to do with my hands. “I don’t suppose he has.”

  “But that doesn’t excuse his behavior. He should have told you before you both lost your hearts, given you a choice.”

  “I’m not sure either of us ever had a choice.”

  “Fate can be a finicky thing. You have a gift. And power yet undiscovered.”

  “But neither will change Conner’s mind.”

  She laughed, light and free. “He was never an easy one. Just like his father, proud and stubborn.”

  “How did you do it? Only to see them thirteen times a year?” I wanted to understand the life she chose to live, assuming she had a choice. I wanted to know her story.

  “I met Conner’s father under a full moon. He stood in the circle of stones, the elements swirling around him. It took only but a few seconds for our eyes to lock, and our fates were sealed. We met in secret every full moon, deep in the green hills of Ireland. When Conner was born, I wept in both joy and sorrow, for I knew one day, he would have to make a choice between our worlds. I am the banríon of wolves, and as my son, Conner is my heir, the alpha leader. His destiny might be set in stone, but yours, Mirela, has still to be decided.”

  My eyes abruptly filled with tears. “I don’t know what I want anymore. The future is no longer clear.”

  “The wolf will kill the druid. That is what your visions have shown you, but Conner won’t be gone forever. He will live.”

  I swallowed the tears, reaching deep for the pride I relied on often. “As the black wolf.” I’ve seen the wolf, and he was a sordid bastard. Power hungry. He wasn’t Conner. Not my Conner.

  “Yes. I can see that the wolf fills you with unpleasantness, fear even.” Branna paused, studying my face. “But Conner’s wolf isn’t a beast, regardless how he has portrayed himself in your dreams. He thinks he is protecting you.”

  My chin lifted. “I don’t need his protection.”

  “Alpha males. They can be testy. Proud and overprotective.” Her smile was slow, and it was insightful. “I understand what you feel for my son and him for you. ’Tis a strong bond. What if I offer you an alternative? How far are you willing to go for love?”

  I bit my lip, staring at the woman who was Conner’s mother, the banríon of wolves. “I’m listening.”

  She reached over the table, and took my hand. “You are tied to my son in both lives, in both worlds. You were chosen to be his mate. What will you do, Mirela of the Rawlings? You have a choice, as well.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will. In time, the answer will come to you. For you have strong magick inside of you and gypsy blood running through your veins. It’s your decision to make, but you need to know, he is hurting as well and missing you. The purest magick is of the heart,” she said softly, and with such faith.

  “I’m warning you, I’m in a mood today. Watch what you say carefully,” I snarled.

  Conner leaned on the counter, smirking. “You look like hell.”

  I sighed. “Do you need something, or did you just come into my shop to bug the hell out of me?”

  “Both.”

  “I’m working, Conner.” I flipped a card from the tarot deck.

  “I can see that.” There was an underlying flippancy to his words, as if what I was doing was a game, not taken seriously. It got under my skin.

  The next card made me cringe. The moon. Danger. Darkness. Terror. Card after card, it was the same ominous fortune. But it wasn’t Conner’s fortune I was reading. It was my own.

  “I’m guessing that wasn’t a good card.”

  “Shut up,” I rumbled. “I’m still not sure I’m talking to you.”

  His lips curled. “I like a challenge.”

  I glanced up, hitting him with a quick glare. “Good, then not giving up to the wolf should be right up your alley.” I was beating a dead horse, but I couldn’t stop poking. I loved the fool. Was it wrong for me to want him to fight? To not just give into the wolf?

  “Mirela, I don’t want to start this again.”

  I angled my head to the side. “What do you want?”

  “You,” he said without hesitancy.

  Oh, no. He did not come in here to seduce me. I wasn’t falling for that. I wanted to untangle myself from Conner, not rope myself in more. “Nope. That ship has sailed. I won’t be your occasional lover when the moon is full. I want more than that. I deserve more.”

  Conner inched closer. “You’re right. I know you’re right, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem.”

  “That you could help me with. You wanted to help me.”

  I gave him another look of exasperation. We could do this song and dance all day. “That was before.”

  His grin spread. Somehow during our discussion, he’d managed to take my hand, and now the pad of his thumb was making lazy circles over mine. His touch produced a mixture of feelings. Safety. Longing. Tranquility. I didn’t want them, none of them. “Before you realized you had magick…and that you were mine?”

  I frowned, pulling my hand from his. “I’m not yours.”

  He moved so fast, I didn’t have time to resist. His hand grabbed my wrist, turning it over. “This lovely mark says otherwise. Did I ever tell you how beautiful it looks on your skin?” There was a hint of possessiveness in his voice, hypnotizing me.

  I stared into his eyes, swimming in a sea. Shit. I could feel my resolve weakening. “Dammit, Conner. You can’t keep doing this to me.”

  Leaning down, he pressed a kiss over the mark claiming I indeed was something to Conner. “Please, Mirela. You aren’t the only one suffering.”

  Ugh. Why do I let him do this to me?

  He could turn me inside out with pretty words, a smoldering glance, and those tantalizing lips. What was a girl to do? There wasn’t a female alive who could resist the likes of Conner Delany. Certainly not me. I was powerless against him.

  “Fine. Only because I want you alive.”

  “So you can kill me yourself?” he teased.

  “Something like that,” I grumbled.

  “You and I both know you care too much to hurt me.”

  “We’ll see.”

  His lips quirked. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  In a matter of seconds, I was swept from the shop in a rush of w
ind, like being caught up in a twister. When my feet touched the ground again, I was in Conner’s arms at his house.

  “Will you miss that, being able to do magick?” I asked, staring up into his perfectly structured face, and what I saw, made my pulse quicken. Desire, raw as a fresh wound.

  His eyes never left mine as he traced my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “There are many things I will miss.” His breath was already ragged as he pulled me against him.

  “Like what?”

  “Later, Mirela. This first.” Then his mouth was on mine.

  He possessed me. With quick hands and restless lips, he took what we both desperately wanted. That jarring edge of need was as dangerous as it was primitive. Control was lost, but there was no need for it. I was caught up in the wicked spell that was brewing.

  His mouth feasted on my neck, adding a layer of excitement. Greedily, my hands streaked up under his shirt, roaming over the swells and planes of his chest.

  My back hit the wall, his rough hands sliding over me, into me, driving me up before I could catch my breath. His body shuddered with me, the violence of the orgasm ripping through me. His eyes were on mine, watching as passion took hold of me. In the dark sea green of his eyes, there was a flash of triumph.

  My blood beat as frantically as his, my hands racing over him as I tore the shirt over his head and reveled in the sound of cotton ripping at the seam.

  His teeth dragged over my shoulder, pushing me near the edge. A haze of pleasure filled my vision, thick and red. The mark at my wrist came alive, thumping like a drumbeat, greedy to take what the wolf considered his—me.

  I surprised myself, by wanting to give myself to both the druid and the wolf. In that moment of blind pleasure, I realized I couldn’t have one without the other. They were both a part of Conner, regardless that he had to choose one fate or the other.

  My nipple hardened against a flick of his tongue and need stirred within me, a jolt like lightning flashing across the sky. The wild pleasure he gave was all man turned savage, the beast within him.