Gift of the Realm

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Not that she could open her eyes, she thought. In fact, she may never be capable of moving again.

  “It was Gran’s,” she said on a yawn.

  A second low groan reached her ears. “Did you have to mention that?”

  She smiled. “Do you think she’d mind you using it?”

  “Using it, no. Sharing it with her granddaughter? Aye, she might.”

  It turned out she could move after all. She rolled her head on his shoulder and opened her eyes to look up at him. Eyes shut, his dark lashes fanned against his passion-flushed cheeks. From the rate of his breathing, he hadn’t quite recovered yet, either. The knowledge was gratifying.

  “She always liked you,” she said.

  “I know. I liked her, too. But I’m wondering how she would be feeling about what was done here today.” His eyes opened, and he tucked his chin against his chest, glancing down at her. “How is it, Keely, that a woman with your looks has managed to remain untouched by a man?”

  She knew he’d have questions, but since she wasn’t sure how to answer them, she’d hoped they wouldn’t come immediately. Sighing, she disentangled herself from him and sat up. She reached for the quilt they’d shoved aside at some point and drew it up over her bent knees. Glancing his way, she decided having this conversation while staring at his naked body wasn’t going to work. She looked away.

  He was having no part of that. He leaned up on an elbow beside her and with a palm to her chin forced her to look at him. His brows rose in silent demand as he waited for an answer.

  “I told you, Colin,” she said matter-of-factly. “I don’t have many friends. That includes men. The dreams have always set me apart.”

  A disbelieving snort escaped him. “It’s not like you wear the dreams on your face.” He released her chin to tap a finger to her nose before scooting up until his back rested against the headboard. “And a fine face it is.”

  She eyed his naked body for a moment then flipped a corner of the quilt over his lap.

  He chuckled. “We men are basic creatures, darlin’. One glance at a woman who looks like you and...we want.”

  “That’s not what I meant. There have been men.”

  “All evidence to the contrary.”

  She rolled her eyes. “By that, I mean I’ve dated men. Not often, I admit. Because I never saw the point of it. How could I throw myself into a relationship when I never knew where the dreams would lead me?”

  “Having sex with someone doesn’t always constitute a relationship,” he reasoned.

  Hearing him say it hurt, which was stupid. She’d known all along how he felt about getting involved with a woman, any woman. Love ’em and leave ’em was his motto. It wasn’t his fault she’d fallen in love with him at seventeen, and never recovered.

  “It does for me,” she said truthfully.

  It was barely noticeable, but he stiffened. His eyes took on that now familiar shuttered look.

  “There,” she said, and her smile was sad. “Now I’ve scared you.” She patted his knee before climbing from the bed to swipe up her robe from a chair and slip into it.

  His gaze, following her, was like a physical touch as she padded to the door. Donovan darted through the moment she opened it, bounding onto the bed and wriggling in delight. She followed him, and sat on the edge facing Colin. Donovan attempted to climb into her lap and had to settle for a head on her thigh. She scrubbed at his ears.

  “There’s no need to be, you know... Scared, I mean. My feelings are my own, and I’ll deal with them. The thing is, I’ve shared my dreams with you for a decade. I know it’s weird, but they’re real to me, Colin. As real as anything else in my life. Until they end or go away, I can’t get beyond them.”

  He reached out to take her hand in his, toying with her fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you, Keely. I’m afraid I might.”

  “I’m afraid you might, too.” And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. She squeezed his hand and managed a smile. “So, why don’t you do your best to give me as much pleasure as possible in the meantime?”

  “I’d planned to.”

  Her smile widened, and he looked relieved.

  “And help me solve the riddle of the dreams. Then it will be done, and we can both get on with our lives.”

  ****

  “I looked through several of your mother’s books,” she said as they climbed the trail leading to the Door. “One of them is a chronicle of local legends. And get this. There are two different accounts where locals claim a powerful fairie ruler visited them, demanding they assist him in the breaking of a curse. Your mother’s book didn’t give the fairie’s name, but the tone reminded me of the dreams I’ve had of Prince Rory from Into the Mists. I think Owein and Prince Rory could be one in the same.”

  “Prince Owein,” Colin snorted behind her, murmuring, “I doubt he’d be pleased to learn his crown is that of a mere prince, instead of king.”

  She waved a hand in dismissal. “Prince or king, it hardly matters.”

  “It’s clear you’ve little experience with royal egos.”

  “His ego isn’t my concern. If he is the one in the tale, he could be the key to solving the dreams. I just don’t know where to start. I need to discover how the tale ties in with the Door.”

  “Yes, the Door. We’ll begin there, but first I’ll be hearing an apology.”

  She stumbled to a stop to spin around and face him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He leaned close until they were nose to nose. “I’ve a powerful desire for you, darlin’, as you’ve discovered for yourself. But I won’t have that desire used against me as it was last night.”

  Last night?

  Her jaw dropped open. “You know about that?”

  He ignored her question. “I’ve agreed to help you, Keely, but I won’t be manipulated. If that’s what you’re about, best you tell me so now.”

  His accusation was insulting enough to have her bristling. How dare he accuse her of manipulation? Okay, so she had kissed him in the dream with the thought of getting him into the ring without an argument, but that hadn’t been manipulation, really. That had been simple efficiency, and she had to admit, a pleasure.

  And he hadn’t liked it, no matter what rationalization she applied to it.

  “I’m sorry,” she began automatically, but stopped mid-apology when she realized the implication of his comments. “Wait a minute.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Are you telling me you remember what happened last night? In my dream?”

  “Our dream, darlin’.” He gripped her elbow, turning her and urging her up the path.

  “It was my dream, Quinn. You were only in it because I imagined you there,” she frowned before adding, “or something.” She no longer had any idea whether he showed up in her dreams due to her imagination or if some other force put him there. “You didn’t even know about the dreams until two days ago. Now, suddenly, you’re aware of what happened in one?”

  “I never said I didn’t know about the dreams.”

  She stumbled on the path. “What!” His hand on her arm kept her moving. “Stop!”

  He ignored her.

  “I mean it, Quinn,” she declared, skirting a boulder and struggling to control her breathing. “I’m one hysterical breath away from a complete freak out. And if I end up going over the cliff, it’ll be your fault!”

  His chuckle sounded behind her. “I’ll keep you on the path, darlin’. We’re almost there.”

  She could hear Donovan barking not far ahead, and realized he was right. Topping the rise, the Door came into view. She spun around and pinned him with a glare.

  “You knew about the dreams?”

  He didn’t pause, surprising her by scooping her up in his arms to hold her against his chest as he would a child. He headed for a low boulder several yards from the ring, ignoring her struggles.

  “Put me down,” she insisted. “This is a conversation I intend to have while standi
ng on my own two feet.”

  He sat on the stone and settled her on his lap. Only inches from hers, his cobalt eyes were calm in the face of her agitation.

  “How long have you known about the dreams?” she demanded.

  “Since the summer you came to stay with Morna.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” she shrieked.

  He wrapped his arms about her more tightly when she tried to squirm free.

  “We just spent the last hour—” she cut herself off. “I’ve lived for the past ten years, afraid I was going insane. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “For the same reason you didn’t mention it, I imagine.”

  Okay, he had a point. But still!

  “And, before you ask,” he continued, “no, I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I simply didn’t see it as anything odd.”

  “Then you’re the one who’s insane.”

  He grinned. “I’m Irish, Keely. It’s in my DNA to be more accepting of the strange and magical than the average person,” he reasoned.

  “And having fairie blood would only increase that acceptance?” she added, sarcastically.

  “So, you’ve decided to believe in our fairie heritage?” he asked instead of answering.

  “I have no idea what I believe, anymore. Nothing in this situation is what I thought it to be.”

  A grunt was his only response.

  She studied him for a moment and wondered at the subtle wariness that had seeped into his eyes before asking, “Are the dreams one of your gifts, Colin?”

  His gaze narrowed. “Gifts? Have you been talking to Sean again? Tread lightly there, Keely. Nora may look like a lady, but she has a vicious, jealous streak.”

  Keely rolled her eyes and took advantage of his loosened hold. She scrambled from his lap and turned on him. “Sean happens to be one of the few people I consider a friend,” she scoffed, “as does Nora. And, for your information, I haven’t been talking to him. I spoke to Kathleen yesterday.”

  “Kathleen?”

  “Yes, Kathleen. I’ve had a lot of unbelievable stuff dumped in my lap since I’ve been back in Dunhaven, and I needed to talk to someone about it before my head exploded. Unlike you, I can always count on Kathleen to speak truthfully, even if what she has to say is unpleasant.”

  Disgruntled, he pushed to his feet. “Like I said, I didn’t keep my knowledge of the dreams from you in order to hurt you, Keely. When you’ve embraced the fact that you carry the blood of the realm,” he ignored her sharpened glance, “you will find that, while never mundane, your gifts will become a normal part of your life. It will be up to you whether or not you share the details of those gifts with others. I choose not to, and it works for me.”

  “Why did you put it that way?” she wanted to know. “When I’ve embraced the blood of the realm?”

  He shrugged. “A figure of speech.”

  “It’s almost the exact figure of speech Saraid used,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the ring.

  He grabbed her elbow and forced her to face him. His eyes narrowed intently. “She spoke to you?”

  “You know she did. You were there last night.” The words spilled out as a disgruntled complaint. “Remember?”

  “Fairie gifts, if you can call them gifts, work differently for each of us. I’m aware of the dreams, Keely, but not in the same way as you’ve described. For me the awareness is more abstract, a kind of sensing rather than seeing or hearing. You witness. I feel.”

  “If that’s so, then how did you know I... that I’d...” she trailed off, unable to admit she’d thrown herself at him and kissed his lights out.

  His slow smile was pure seduction. “With as much as I’m wanting you, darlin’, I’d hardly miss the feel of your lovely body pressed close, or the taste of your soft mouth on mine.”

  Wanting, not wanted. Pleasure coursed through her at his words. He pressed a kiss to her forehead then leaned back to meet her gaze.

  “Now. What of Saraid? What did she say?”

  “She said, ‘Embrace the blood of the realm, daughter of daughter. Let it lead your heart. For if two from the two join together at last, destiny shall be found, and misguided bonds will be broken.’”

  “Two from the two,” he murmured contemplatively.

  “She’s only spoken twice, and both times the two of us stood together in the ring. I went back and checked the genealogy more closely. The split in our ancestry began with the twins. Your line came down from Ryan and mine from Regan. That has to be what she meant.”

  “I agree.”

  “What I don’t understand is the ‘letting the blood lead me’ part. Lead me where?”

  “You’ve already been led, Keely. To me. To the Door. Maybe it’s your fairie blood you should be focusing on.”

  “Please. I’m having a hard enough time accepting the idea fairies are real, never mind that I might have descended from one.”

  He snorted. “This from a woman who admits to hearing mystical voices and sharing her dreams with a handsome Irishman?”

  “Now you’re just trying to charm me,” she grumbled.

  “And it’s working,” he said with a grin.

  “Maybe,” she had to admit.

  He tapped a fingertip to her nose with a laugh, and, taking her hand, led her toward the ring.

  “What did you mean when you said focus on the blood?”

  He paced around the edges of the pillars, but didn’t enter, saying absently, “There are many fairie gifts, Keely, other than sharing dreams. If we’re to break a curse, we need to understand and apply any and all the abilities at our disposal.”

  “But I don’t have any other gifts,” she insisted.

  “That you know of.”

  “Do you?”

  “I do.”

  “What are they?”

  “That’s a conversation for later.”

  “Why not right now?”

  “Because right now,” he said, using his grip on her hand to tug her into the ring, “there’s this.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Keely ducked at the blinding flash of light, her startled yelp automatic at the earsplitting crack of thunder.

  “What was that?” she gasped. Deep blue was all she saw when she glanced up. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

  Colin didn’t answer, and she followed his intent gaze to a point in the center of the ring. She could only gape at the sight before them. Not four feet away stood her prince from Into the Mists. As real as the stone pillars surrounding them, Prince Rory appeared exactly as he had in her dreams. Tall, blond, and regal in dark slacks and a flowing blue tunic that seemed to glow. His haunted green gaze was locked on the rosebush with its single red bloom.

  “We had a deal,” Colin protested beside her.

  Rory waved off the accusation, his eyes never leaving the bloom. “I was invited.”

  “No,” Colin barked, “you weren’t”

  “Events overrule any deal we’ve made, young Quinn.”

  Keely’s gaze darted between the blond fairie from her childhood dreams and Colin. To have made a deal between them, Colin had to have been in contact with the spectacular looking fairie. She found her voice.

  “Deal? What kind of deal? What’s going on, Colin?”

  Colin didn’t answer, his blazing eyes never even turned her way.

  “A good question,” a sultry voice mocked and had Keely whirling about.

  Recognition made her eyes widen. Across the rosebush from Rory was the most beautiful woman Keely had ever seen, a woman she’d watched as a child, leading a band of fairies in their céilidh dance. Blonde hair, so pale it appeared like polished silver, fell to the woman’s tiny waist in waves. Her large, exotically tilted eyes, as blue as the sea beyond the cliffs, gleamed from a face that would have been right at home splashed across the silver screen. High cheekbones, delicately arched brows, and a wide, full mouth, complimented the woman’s perfect, porcelain skin, as did the flowing white gown covering
her willowy frame.

  Fairie power pulsed around her like a living force.

  “Princess Fiona,” Prince Rory snarled. “I’ve come for my wife.”

  His wife? It was too much of a coincidence for him to be speaking of anyone other than Saraid. Keely didn’t have the opportunity to congratulate herself on having her suspicion, that her prince and Owein were one in the same, confirmed.

  Princess Fiona scoffed at King Owein’s demand, the cold smile curving her lips ruining the perfection of her face when she spoke. “Have you now?” She nodded her head toward Keely and Colin. “And you believe these two are the key to having your way? Hah! The girl, maybe.” A chill ran down Keely’s spine when Fiona’s blue gaze raked over her before moving to Colin. “But I’ve ensured that one will never do your bidding. Unlike his da, your pretty Quinn will never be swayed, not by human plea nor fairie enchantment.”

  “Enchantment?” Owein’s eyes glittered with heat. “I should have known you were behind the man’s foolishness.”

  Fiona laughed. “You know as well as I humans need no push to act the fool. I barely had to whisper in Michael Sterling’s ear to have him rushing back to answer the demands of his greedy family.”

  Keely gasped at hearing fairie interference was behind Michael Sterling’s abandonment of Colin and his mother. Her gaze flew to Colin to find him looking, not at Fiona and Owein, but at Keely herself.

  “What is she saying, Keely?” he demanded, sharply. As he spoke, his gaze scanned the ring as though searching, and Keely realized not only couldn’t he hear the fairie princess, he couldn’t see her, either.

  Before Keely could answer, Fiona pinned her with a harsh look. “Look at him, Halfling,” she hissed, “ordering you about as though it’s his right. Your lover is no different from all the others. Like all men, his will is all that matters.”

  Owein snorted his disdain while Keely’s heart quivered in her chest at the fury in Fiona’s eyes. She didn’t bother asking how the fairie princess knew she and Colin were lovers. It was obvious from her remarks Fiona knew much more about this situation than either she or Colin. In fact, it appeared that, like a marionette, Fiona had been pulling the strings all along. The question was, why?