Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad)

by *lizzie starr

  The bedroom door burst open. How dare anyone just barge in without knocking? But she didn’t care enough to turn over and send them away. Maybe they’d think she was sleeping and just go.

  “Breanna.”

  Even through the misery, Gowthaman’s voice, the loving way he spoke her name softened her heart. Oh, how she loved him, but she couldn’t... shouldn’t. “Please leave me alone.”

  “I will not.” The mattress dipped and he slid his arms under her shoulders and knees. He lifted her and settled her into an easy hold. She opened her eyes. He wasn’t smiling.

  “Put me down.”

  “No. You will come with me. Now.”

  Her half-hearted struggle only made him hold her tighter. He carried her down the stairs and out into the back yard. A portal stood open, waiting.

  Not wanting to leave her safe haven, she squirmed and wiggled but his grasp was firm. Bree looked into his face from under her lashes. Set in a hard line, his tightly clenched jaw showed his determination, another side of Gowtham she’d not known. A flutter, somewhere around her heart, made the breath catch at the base of her throat. She would never be able to stop loving him.

  “No. I don’t want to leave here.” Unable to put any strength into the action, her hands flopped useless against his chest.

  “In this moment, beloved, I do not care what you want.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  He gazed at her and his eyes softened to the color of rich, melted chocolate. “But you are my beloved. Why should I not say the words?” Then his gaze hardened, his eyes black as night and he stepped through the portal.

  Into a place so bright she jerked her hand up to cover her eyes. Gowthaman lowered her bare feet to hot sand. When she danced on the burning grains, he slipped off his shirt and folded it on the sand then lifted her to stand on the cooler cotton.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “I find I am not as patient as you have been, Breanna. I do not wish to wait years for you to admit the pain you carry in your soul. For me, too many days have already passed without your love. Here, now, you will allow me to assist you, to help you heal your grief, until your pain is manageable.”

  “You can’t help me. Nobody—”

  “So I avowed many times. So I believed. Until you... encouraged me to put my memories into the past, enabling me to release the melancholy and pain. You opened my heart to the future. With you.”

  Heat penetrated the cloth she stood on and she stepped from one foot to the other. “Why here?”

  “There are no distractions.”

  “Except the heat.”

  He shrugged and glanced around. She followed his gaze past the golden, windswept dunes to the bright, clear azure of the sky. “Then we must not dally.”

  “Take me home.”

  “I will not.”

  “Then I’ll do it myself.” She turned and lifted one hand to sketch the simple symbol to open a Faerie portal. But, that would use magic. Magic she no longer trusted. She closed her fingers into a fist and lowered her hand.

  “I see.”

  She shook her head and stared at the fine, golden sand. “You see nothing.”

  “Since our return from the world between worlds, you have not used the magic residing within you. Even when faced with the pain of another, you would not draw upon your power of healing. Why, Breanna? Why do you deny that part of who you are?”

  Setting her shoulders, she chewed on her lower lip until the pain focused her and she could answer in a cold, unemotional tone. “I’m not that person anymore.”

  “I see.”

  She whirled to face him, scattering sand over his crumpled tunic. “You don’t see anything. I don’t know what you’re thinking, or doing, or... or... Gowtham, please. Let it go. Let me be alone. I—I’m not good for you. For anyone. Not anymore.”

  Gowthaman crossed his arms and took a step back, studying her. He had not realized how difficult it would be to encourage her to face her demons. Though, he thought with wry self-deprecation, who better to have known? As he also understood how much more difficult this time of realization would be if she were allowed to wallow in self-pity and anger. If she did not come to honor her emotions, such feeling would take on lives of their own. A formidable obstacle he would not allow her to construct between them.

  “Don’t just look at me. Let me go home.”

  “No.”

  Her sad eyes were nearly his undoing. Then a rising blaze of anger flushed her cheeks and made him smile. Good.

  “All right. Fine. What do you want me to say?”

  “Why do you blame yourself for Chance’s death?”

  Her mouth dropped open, parting her lips in a delightful, inviting manner. Gowthaman closed his eyes, willing her to answer honestly. There was more they needed to do before this day was done.

  She sputtered a moment then said, “Because I was the leader of the mission. It was my duty to see that everyone was safe.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?” She shaded her eyes with one hand, tilted her head and glared at him.

  Anger was a step in the right direction. “That is not the reason, although I will allow it plays a role in your feelings.”

  “Since when do you know so much about my feelings?”

  He reached to take her hand and pressed his open palm to hers. Sparkles the color of the glistening sand danced amid fine grains of crimson. He held their palms together until the whirling colors danced up their arms. Silently, he released her.

  Freed from the sensual hold of their soulfire, Bree kept her hand lifted for a moment, staring at her palm. Maybe she should be honest with Gowthaman. Maybe she owed him that much. Then he would understand and leave her alone.

  Alone. Her heart lurched at the word. The two syllables no longer held the appeal they had even five minutes ago. “Can we go somewhere else?”

  “No. Not until this barrier between us is cleared.”

  Her hand shook so she lowered it and wiped her palm against her jeans. She’d hoped never to have to say the words, but knew Gowtham wouldn’t allow her to remain silent. She ducked her head. There was no way she could look at him and say this.

  “I killed Chance. I... killed my brother.”

  “You did not.”

  She jerked her gaze to him. His face was relaxed, his eyes once again soft chocolate. He seemed so sure of himself, of his words. A mite of hope gnawed at her doubts. “There’s no way you can know that.”

  “Neither is there concrete evidence you caused Chance’s death.”

  “How can you say that?”

  He took her hands and she allowed him to caress the backs with his thumbs. Even though she tried to ignore the tingles and worked to push the feeling away, the languid motions played havoc with her nerve endings. “While you have hidden away, I have learned more of the... death chant. Though my knowledge has only increased infinitesimally, I believe I am now able to share my insights with you.”

  “But the elemental was the one using the death chant.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I was trying to stop him.”

  “Yes. And how was it you made your attempt?”

  “I... well, I...” She paused. She’d never really examined the event, so she focused her memory on the moments she drew power to her, not on the aftermath. She furrowed her brow. That couldn’t be right. “I called on my ability to heal?”

  “You do not need my affirmation.”

  She added a bit of strength to her statement. “I called on my ability to heal.”

  “Yes.” Gowthaman’s smile was relaxed, honest, and... oh, so kissable.

  “But... there was a backlash of power. I saw it travel down the sword from the elemental to Chance. When I pushed Chance’s hands from the hilt I felt the intensity of the magic. I—”

  His long, gentle fingers covered her lips. “No. What you felt was how your healing held back the death chant. I do not understand, for I have found
no instances of similar battles in the archives. The death chant killed your brother, your healing prevented the intense anguish the elemental undoubtedly wished upon him.”

  Shading her eyes again, she studied Gowtham’s face. His words... reinforced what she knew. What she’d been using to hide her real fear.

  “I called upon my healing power.”

  “Yes,” he encouraged.

  “And I used that power in anger. I used it to kill.” Covering her mouth with her hands, she doubled over, collapsing to her knees in the hot sand. “I used healing to destroy a living being.”

  Gowthaman knelt beside her and wrapped his arm over her shoulders. His face close to her ear, he whispered, “Yes, you did. And despite the fact that being was pure evil, had murdered your brother and sought to rain his destruction upon numerous worlds... despite the fact Brandr Ur long deserved an end to his existence... your actions brought you indescribable pain.”

  She turned her head bringing her lips close to his. “But how can I ever use that ability again? How can I heal knowing I can just as easily destroy?”

  “Look into your heart, sundarii. No evil resides there, no joy of what was done. Your self-loathing was so great, you hid your pain deep behind anguish you found more acceptable.”

  “How do you know so much?”

  His warm breath flowed over her cheek. “I lived in such a way for many years. I used those shields to protect my wounded mind, as you sought to protect your healer’s heart. A beautiful woman insisted I see the truth of my life. In doing so, she enabled me to unlock the flow of love in my heart.”

  The beat of her heart thrummed in her chest. Awareness flowed over her skin. She began to feel. “I will always grieve for my brother.”

  “As it should be. You have taught me there is no absolute. We sorrow for what we have lost, and at the same time rejoice in our ongoing lives. Because of you I have learned that to love, and be loved in return, is the greatest defense against the pain we submit ourselves to. The pain we hold to ourselves because we believe it to be a comfort or an armor.”

  “Gowthaman?”

  “Yes, beloved?”

  “Even after all this, you still love me?”

  He groaned, captured her face between his palms and kissed her. Bree leaned into the kiss, planting her hands on the hot skin of his bare shoulders for balance. Much too soon, he drew away.

  Silent, he watched her and she wondered what thoughts he hid behind those wonderful dark eyes.

  “Breanna. Can you leave your sorrow?”

  While she thought, she watched his face. He tried to restrain his reactions, to hide his thoughts from her, but she understood. He was worried.

  “I can. I know I spent many long weeks wallowing and only a few minutes ago accepted the truth of what happened. I know how my perceptions colored my thinking. I know it’s pretty fast, but you know me.”

  “Do not take this healing lightly.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t. I just... Gowtham? I don’t think I can go back to the Alastriona. I don’t want to be responsible for missions or battles. I want to... help you in the library. I need to smile. I need to see you smile.”

  Gowthaman rose in a fluid motion then held his hand to her. A serious expression lasted a few second then he granted her wish. “Then you shall not return. In truth, your decision eases my heart. Will you come with me?”

  At her nod, he drew her to her feet, pulled her close then lifted her in his arms. She stroked the fine sheen of sweat covering the back of his neck. “The desert’s pretty hot. Are we going someplace cooler?”

  In response he laughed, formed a portal and stepped though.

  Cool, damp air caressed Bree’s skin. A slight breeze rustled through the palms, setting the tiny bells tied to the branches in musical motion. She sighed. Gowtham’s oasis.

  “Beautiful. I love the bells. Thank you for making the magic for me.”

  He gave a soft huff. “I did not. Such would be a frivolous use of magic.” His expression softened. “I asked a tribe of Korin’s winged fairies to assist me.”

  “However the bells happened, thank you.” Playful, she poked his shoulder. “Since we’ve obviously been in the Sahara, how about a dip under the waterfall to cool off?”

  “I have no wish to cool off.”

  “Oh? What do you mean?”

  The fierceness of his kiss thrilled her to the tips of her wiggling toes. During the mating of their tongues, he lowered her feet to the grass covered ground and she discovered his desire in the press of his body.

  “Okay,” she panted when he allowed a breath of air between them. “No dip in the pool.”

  A beatific smile burst across his face. “Good choice.”

  She arched her eyebrows. “Good choice?”

  “May I show you something?” The soft shyness in his voice intrigued her.

  “Sure.”

  “Turn around.”

  After giving him a dubious look, she did. Suspended from high branches, panels of brightly colored silk rippled in the breeze. Centered between the panels sat a huge, bed-sized cushion draped with more silks and piled with pillows. “It’s like something out of Aladdin.”

  Wrapping an arm about her waist, he encouraged her forward. “This is my fantasy. Even when I denied you, denied my feelings, this was the fantasy I had of you. Of our first time together.”

  “Instead we had danger, hard gray ground, rocks and an unforgiving sky.”

  “I—”

  “Hush. Don’t apologize. It didn’t matter where we were. Only that we were. I love you, Gowtham. Not romantic trappings. Not a place.”

  “But, will you allow me my fantasy?”

  She caressed her hand down his chest. His golden skin quivered under her palm. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Ah, Breanna. TvaaM kaamayaami. He gathered her close, but she stepped back. He moved closer and she retreated. A look of consternation filled his face then he smiled and stepped forward, pushing her more quickly toward the bed.

  That suited Bree just fine and she reached for the button on her jeans as she moved. Gowthaman stopped her hands and shook his head. “This is my fantasy.”

  Willing to discover whatever he carried in his mind, she sat, then lay back and held out her arms. A wicked gleam lit the eyes of her gentle librarian as he crawled over the cushions to half cover her with the delectable heat of his body.

  He nipped at her lips, then eased the sting with the slow caress of his tongue and kisses that left her senses reeling. Longing for more, she sighed when he eased away.

  He passed one hand above her and her clothing disappeared. Desire darkened his eyes to nearly black.

  She chuckled. “I didn’t think you approved of the frivolous uses of magic.”

  Lowering his head to nuzzle her breast, he mumbled, “Not frivolous. Expedient.”

  “But... but you’re still partially... Oh.” The soft texture of his hair tickled her palms as she held his head in place while he teased and delighted her nipples.

  Lost in the sensation of his mouth, his hands, the slide of his body against hers, she reveled in his slow exploration. Breathless, she tried to reconstruct her last thought when he propped himself on his elbow and watched her with a soft, sensuous gaze.

  Cool silk caressed her heated skin. He drew the length over her breasts, twirled the soft fabric around her peaked nipples then piled the scarf at the juncture of her thighs. After a much too brief kiss, he tugged another cool scarf along her heated body.

  “But, Gowtham...”

  He silenced her with a kiss. Bemused, she fought to remain still and silent while he covered her in a multitude of colored silks. Then he sat back on his calves.

  “This is how I imagined you. Yet even the finest of silks are not...” Reverence filled his gaze and he shook his head as if searching for words.

  The silks caressed her overly sensitive skin and she squirmed, igniting sparks of desire in Gowtham’s eyes. “I... oh,
don’t make me wait longer. Gowtham, you’re still partially dressed,” she cried in frustration.

  With a gesture, his trousers were gone. Bree blew out a soft breath. His body was magnificent. And wanting. Her.

  She had to feel him, skin to skin, so held out one hand and started pushing at the silks with the other.

  Gowtham stopped her hand. “Please, sundarii, do not.”

  He gave her no chance to argue, settling himself between her thighs and drowning her in another wild kiss. The slide of silk between their bodies, the heavy heat of his erection against her thigh, the strange words he murmured between kisses... thought fled. Holding on to the man she loved became her only reality.

  Gowthaman trailed kisses down the arch of her neck. She tasted of golden sunshine and sweet honey. Tasted of love and desire and hope. Innocence and desire. He took her silk covered nipple deep into his mouth. Her nails scraped his shoulder and they groaned together.

  “Gowtham.” A whispered demand.

  “Breanna,” he replied and cupped his hand over the silks guarding her mound. He lifted his head and watched her face while he stroked and danced his fingers over her. Her lush mouth, those perfectly kiss-swollen lips were soft in an expression of delight and surprise. But her lashes lay in soft crescents upon her cheeks and he wanted to see the brilliant blue of her desire. Wanted to see through her eyes when he entered her.

  “Look at me, sundarii.”

  She smiled and opened her eyes. As he swept the silk from her body then slowly entered her, she shifted, her eyes wide. No longer able to deny himself, he drew her into an insistent, tension-building rhythm. Her fingers pressed into his shoulders, slid down his back, cupped his buttocks, silently encouraging. Touching, exploring, he discovered what she needed in this moment. No desperation clouded their movements making this their first, truly joyous time together.

  Enraptured, Gowthaman watched each ripple of pleasure dance sparkles in her eyes. Her response tightened around him, drawing him deeper, holding him, demanding from him. When she cried out her release, startled oasis birds darted into the sky. Gowthaman followed their flight with his own hoarse cry of soaring, inexplicable pleasure.