Yuletide Enchantment
Page 9
He swallowed hard as her big blue eyes clouded with anxiety. “Our son,” he murmured, glancing at her belly, “he will be taken from us so that he cannot assume the throne of the Sidhe or rule alongside the goddess in Annwyn.”
Her hand flew to her belly, covering his. “Am I with child?”
He kissed her stomach, wishing it was her soft skin. “I do not know. But I would never want such a thing to happen to any child we might have. I could not bear to see you hurt, Isobel. To see my child ripped from your arms. I have enough magic left in me to perform one more thing, but you will be the one to choose.”
He kissed her again and brushed his lips in her hair, inhaling her scent. The animal within him still lingered, heightening his senses. He couldn’t imagine not smelling Isobel as keenly as he did now. Didn’t want to imagine the day when his senses dulled and he could no longer hear her heart beating or smell her arousal blooming like a field of heather.
“Daegan?”
“Your father’s contract with St. Clair. There is still a chance you will be forced to wed the earl.”
She gripped his hand. “No!”
“I could, with magic, make him consent to our match, but that will use the last of my magical stores.” He glanced at her stomach and brushed his hand down the silk. “Or I could cast a spell now, to protect our son and his firstborn son and all the other firstborn males of our line. He would be protected from Cailleach’s curse and safe from her hands. If I do this, I cannot use magic to make your father give me your hand in marriage.”
“We’ll run away,” she said, sitting up. “We’ll go far away from my father’s clutches.”
“We will have to make a new home. Without his consent, we could not stay here, and I cannot go back to Annwyn.”
“I don’t care,” she said, holding on to him. “Please, Daegan, protect our son.”
“The future will be uncertain, Isobel. I will have to learn to walk in the mortal realm. I will have to learn the ways of man in order to provide for you.”
“I trust you, Daegan. I have faith in you. I have faith in us.”
Gently he laid her back on the bed and crawled atop her, kissing her eyelids, her nose, her chin. He made his way to her throat, then the valley of her breasts. He undid her gown and pulled it from her body. His fingers skimmed over her nipples, which hardened at his touch. When his lips caressed her bare stomach, her muscles quivered, gooseflesh spread out, and he traced the path with his thumb. Over her womb, he whispered the magical words that would save his son from Cailleach’s wrath.
“It’s done,” he said, “the Bocan will be forever with him and his son and his son.”
“What is the Bocan?” she asked as he slid up beside her.
“A shadow wraith. The Bocan will be bound to him, and when another male child is born, a new wraith will be formed to protect him.”
“Oh, Daegan, you truly are my Christmas miracle.”
“And you, Isobel MacDonald, are my Yuletide enchantment.”
About the Authors
Sophie Renwick is a registered nurse and also the author of Mists of Velvet and Velvet Heaven in the Annwyn Chronicles.