04 Sphere Song - The Isle of Destiny

by Tricia O'Malley

  “Dagda… you’re…” Neala began, but Dagda cut her words off with his lips, refusing to let her speak – or perhaps unwilling to hear what she had to say. He kissed her until all thought left her brain, until all she could do was surrender to the moment, feel his energy surround her and fill her with heat like no other.

  Neala gasped for air as he broke the kiss. He pulled her shirt over her head, but left it so that it wrapped around her wrists, effectively entwining her arms over her head. A moan escaped her as he kissed his way down her neck, his beard scraping her sensitive skin as he first found the soft underside of her breast. As he licked his way around the curve, she arched her back, desperate for him to find where she wanted his mouth. When his hot tongue laved gently at her nipple, Neala moaned, wriggling as heat shot straight through her and to her core.

  At her moan, Dagda’s head shot up, his eyes burning into hers, a man lost in his desires. In that moment, Neala knew she’d surrender all to him if he let her – even her heart.

  Like a man possessed, Dagda kissed his way down her body, his tongue effortlessly finding her most secret of spots, already slick for him, aching for his touch. Delighted with her, he smiled wolfishly up from where his head was tucked between her thighs. As Neala gasped in surprise, and then almost shouted, he bent himself to the task at hand as if he had all the time in the world. Ruthlessly, Dagda brought her to the peak over and over until she lay sweating in the sheets, a quivery mess of nerve endings, her body all but liquefied pleasure.

  She thought Dagda would finally claim her then, filling her where she so ached for him. But he picked her up from the bed and carried her to his, tucking her beneath the sheets and pulling her into the crook of his arm, and all she could do was wonder – before sheer bliss combined with complete exhaustion claimed her – why hadn’t he taken his pleasure?

  Would he not let her love him?

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Dagda stared up at the ceiling waiting for Neala’s breathing to change. It didn’t take long for her to slip into the dead sleep of someone supremely exhausted. He wanted to kick himself for keeping her awake even longer than he should have, for she needed her rest.

  When she’d come out of the bathroom in her white t-shirt, with nothing under it but the green silk he’d purchased for her covering her deliciously round bottom, his entire body had seemed to spring to alert. It was like every nerve ending he had caught on fire at once, and he’d been helpless to not follow her across the room.

  And what a fool he’d made of himself, stuttering and stammering like some schoolboy, Dagda thought, not like the man he was – a tough and worldly man who handled whatever came his way. Dagda could have smacked himself, but his arms were wound around the enticing curves that made up the package Neala came in. And what a package it was, he thought, his body still burning with the need for release.

  He knew she had expected more – had even been offering more – but he’d only wanted to give to her. To show her that she deserved pleasure, deserved to be worshiped. His needs could wait, Dagda had decided.

  Liar, liar, a voice in his mind chided him.

  But if he listened to that voice he’d have to crack open a tightly locked box holding all his vulnerabilities from his childhood days – most notably the memory of not being accepted by his family. Which would mean he’d have to admit that he was more vulnerable than he realized and that he was actually scared of loving someone – because what if they didn’t love him back?

  No, that was something he wasn’t willing to examine too closely. He’d lived his life by the “love ’em and leave ’em” rule, and it had worked out well for him thus far. Dagda had always treated women with respect and he’d never led them on. Anyone who’d ever gotten involved with him had known straight up that he kept moving and wasn’t one to put down roots. The few who had tried to get him to settle had learned quickly that he wasn’t open to that type of relationship.

  Which was what scared him so much about this one – the one currently cuddling deeper into his arms, making contented little mewling sounds as she did. For the first time, he could see a future with someone. It had all fallen into place – and it wasn’t that he could see exactly what that future held. For him it didn’t matter whether they stayed at the bakery or roamed the world.

  The future was just Neala.

  Which terrified him beyond belief. If he gave her all of himself, would she reject him like the others in his life? Instead, he’d done the only other thing he could, which was to give her immeasurable pleasure and then cocoon her in his arms as she slept.

  It was all he could give.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Neala blinked awake, going suddenly from a dream that was decidedly naughty to staring at the dark wooden beams of a ceiling that wasn’t hers. It took a moment for the last few days to come crashing over her, and to remember the bear of a man who slumbered next to her.

  In the night they’d moved apart, sleeping comfortably next to each other, and Neala studied Dagda for a moment. In sleep he seemed vulnerable, and she wondered again why he hadn’t allowed her to pleasure him the night before. Wishing she felt comfortable enough with herself to cuddle into him and touch him, she slipped quietly from the bed instead, and crossed to where her satchel sat next to her bed. Something had been bothering her, even last night, and now she realized what she’d forgotten.

  Pulling out the grey velvet bag Sasha had handed her, Neala gingerly untied the ribbon that knotted the bag closed. Easing onto her bed in a cross-legged position, she took a deep breath before pulling out a new stone and a scroll of paper. A pink stone, shot through with glimmers of black and silver and cut in the same pattern as the last stone, it looked as though it was the next piece in the set for her pendant. Retrieving the necklace from her bag, Neala carefully fit the stone into the southern point of the quaternary knot, admiring how it looked next to the other stone. She wondered what would happen when she had all four – if something magickal would appear. Fiona would probably know, or at the very least be able to tell her what the stone was.

  The slip of paper was a little more concerning.

  To love or not to love

  To live or not to live

  Fire consumeth all

  Shame goeth before the fall

  “You look beautiful.” Dagda’s husky voice snapped her gaze up from the clue in her hand to where he lay propped up on one elbow, watching her. Belatedly Neala realized she was naked, and only her long hair covered her.

  “Oh, um, good morning.” Neala tried to act like she always lounged around naked with men in the bed next to her.

  “Did you sleep well?” Dagda asked.

  “I did, thank you. I’m sorry, I was out like a light after…” Neala trailed off. She flushed at the thought of his mouth on her, hot in the night, and felt her insides go liquid at the thought of the orgasms he’d given her.

  “After I pleasured you? After you came so many times you forgot your own name? After you told me I was the best you’d ever had?” Dagda said, and Neala would have snarled at him if she hadn’t seen the teasing light in his eyes.

  “Erm, yes, after that,” she said, averting her eyes for a moment. She desperately wanted to ask him why he hadn’t tried for more, but just then there was an urgent knocking at the door.

  “Meet in the pub. We’ve got company – and he’s madder than a wet cat in a bag,” Bianca shouted through the door.

  “Coming,” Neala called.

  “Like you did repeatedly last night,” Dagda said, still teasing. Deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine, Neala stood and stretched fully, tossing her curls over her shoulder and sauntering into the bathroom. She shut the door on a laugh, hearing his groan of pain.

  That’d teach him, she thought. Maybe next time he’d let her participate more.

  Feeling decidedly cheerful, Neala got ready to face whatever nonsense was about to greet her down in the pub.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven
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br />   “Well, you certainly look… rested,” Bianca observed when Neala and Dagda entered the pub, their satchels slung over their shoulders, their hair still wet from the shower. A comb would have been nice, Neala thought, but she had left her hair to curl wildly around her shoulders as it dried.

  “I am, thanks. Dropped like a stone when I saw my bed last night,” she said, and bit back a laugh at the disappointed look that crossed Bianca’s face. Clearly she’d been hoping for something more, but last night had been too intimate for Neala to share. Plus, she wanted to take some time to figure out just what made Dagda tick, and if she could see herself wanting to spend more time with him.

  A man paced the room, startlingly handsome and disastrously angry. He looked like the superhero in a comic book series, all regal good looks, vibrating with rage and a magick he didn’t even try to conceal. Whips of power vibrated up his arms like little lightning bolts as he strode the floor and cursed long and loud for all to hear.

  “It’s glad I am our little ones aren’t with us this morning then,” Cait said, admonishing the man for his language. “And you’ll just be calming right down before I throw you on your arse on the street.”

  Neala raised an eyebrow as the diminutive Cait went head to head with the enraged man, and Neala could see why she made a good pub owner. It was obvious she’d had to hold her own against many a belligerent customer.

  “Try me,” the man threatened.

  “Don’t think I won’t,” Cait shot right back.

  The man stared her down, then finally pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

  “Listen, I know you’re worried about her. But you can’t be coming in here throwing lightning bolts of magick around and breaking up my pub because you’re scared for her. It does nothing but make me mad and trust me, that’s not what you want to be dealing with, on top of everything else on your plate.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right,” the man sighed.

  “Lochlain,” Bianca said, drawing the man’s attention to her.

  He strode across the room, fury still snapping around him, and Cait sighed. “I’m putting a full Irish on. Sit. Then you can be on your way.”

  Soon they were all seated while a sullen Lochlain sat on a bar stool, staring them all down as they shoveled food in their mouths. It was just the four of them this morning; Cait told them that Fiona had gone to her house late last night and would meet with them on their way west. The rest of the Grace’s Cove family had said their goodbyes last night, with promises of another big party upon their return, and well wishes and abundant blessings for their journey.

  “Sure, sure. Have a lazy breakfast while my Gwen is tortured,” Lochlain complained, and Bianca turned to him as she slathered butter on warm cinnamon scone.

  “Lose the attitude, buddy,” Bianca scolded. “We’ve just gone through several battles and we’re on to your woman next. But if you think we can fight with the courage and heart that’s required of us without a few hours’ rest and some food, you’re wrong. Either we give Gwen our best, or fail her by bringing our worst.”

  Loch’s shoulders slumped and he got up to pace, raking a hand through his hair.

  “Can you tell us what happened?” Dagda asked.

  Neala nodded. Smart move; keep the man talking.

  “It’s beyond infuriating, because, as you know, I’m a high sorcerer of my people,” Lochlain said.

  “What people? I don’t know,” Neala interjected and then looked down at her tea when he glared at her.

  “I’m fae. Danula. And our people live in a village not known to man. I have created a home for Gwen outside the village, so we can have some privacy but she can also enjoy the magick and fun of what the fae world offers, as well as visit the sirens.”

  “I forgot! There’s sirens?” Neala squeaked in delight, and Bianca nodded enthusiastically from across the table, her mouth full of scone.

  “I meant to tell you more. We haven’t gotten there yet. It’s so cool,” Bianca mumbled, ducking her head at Lochlain’s glare. Swallowing, she mouthed, “So cool!”

  “Yes, the love of my life is half-siren. And her family is made up of mermaids and sirens. I decided we should live by the water so they could visit. Apparently, my wards weren’t strong enough to protect her,” Lochlain said, furious in his failure.

  “Nobody’s were. It was the Goddess Domnu who took the women. It doesn’t matter what level your magick is. She even stole the treasures back from Danu herself. It wasn’t your lack of expertise; it’s just that their magick was stronger than yours,” Seamus explained, and scooped up some more eggs.

  “It doesn’t matter. My job is to protect my woman and I failed,” Lochlain said, his face set in hard lines.

  “What is with these stubborn men?” Neala wondered.

  “Irish,” Bianca shrugged.

  “She’d gone down to the beach to visit with Amynta, her mother. Now that they’ve found their way back to each other, they try to visit when they can. Gwen is fascinated by the mermaids’ story as well as their island home, so she could listen for hours to Amynta’s tales.”

  “So could I,” Bianca agreed. “It’s beyond what I can even imagine for a fairytale – and that’s me saying it, being in a relationship with a fae.”

  “Oh, I’m dying to know more. You’ll tell me everything,” Neala demanded.

  “Of course. First of all, did you know that that the women run the society? And that there are mermen and that the sirens don’t actually kill the men after they mate? Such a falsehood. I think it was just wayward sailors they killed after mating. Probably to keep them from discovering the Isle of Destiny, which – oh my goddess – is amazing. There are like five different seasons and night and day going on, all at the same time. I could have spent years exploring,” Bianca gushed.

  Neala was enthralled. She opened her mouth to speak, but shut it when Loch slammed his fist on the bar.

  “Enough! We must go at once.”

  “But where are we going? Do we have a clue? Do you know where she is?” Seamus asked, calmly continuing to eat his breakfast.

  “Aye, I was able to cast a spell so as to track her. But I can’t get to her. Apparently I need you.” Lochlain’s eyes narrowed as he studied Neala.

  “That seems to be the theme of things, yes,” Neala said.

  “Then let’s move. Time is wasting,” Lochlain ordered.

  “Loch, we talked about this,” Bianca sighed, pushing her chair back from the table. “I know you’re used to ordering people around, but you need us and you can’t issue commands like we’re your subjects or something. Ask nicely.”

  Lochlain’s expression grew more mutinous, if that was even possible, then he sighed.

  “Would you please speed up your breakfast so we can get on the road and save the love of my life, who might very well be hurt and in pain right now?”

  “Gwen’s pretty spunky,” Bianca said. “I suspect she’s just fine. But I’m ready to go. Everyone else?”

  The table nodded in agreement.

  “Let’s roll.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Gwen paced the small room into which she’d been so unceremoniously dropped without a word or any explanation of why she was there. She’d caught a quick glimpse of a goddess who she thought resembled Danu, but that was it. Aside from the Spear of Lugh glowing in the middle of the room, there’d been no clues or any sort of communication.

  She’d immediately picked up the spear, delighted to have it in her hands again, and had passed the time practicing defensive moves with it. Her bracelets, still forged to her wrists, worked when she focused on her magick. However, it seemed her magick was useless here, for no matter how often she tried to use it on any of the stone walls that ensconced her, it was diffused somehow. Gwen ran her hand over the stone, feeling the pulse of magick within, and wondered what kind of force field surrounded her. Would Loch even be able to find her? There was no way to send him a message.

  It had all ha
ppened so fast – she’d really had no recourse or way of letting him know she’d been taken. She only hoped that he still carried the bond a protector had with his Seeker, where he could sense when she was in danger. Even her mother had been unable to help, only watching helplessly from the water as Gwen had been stolen into another realm. There’d been no warning, no sense of impending danger; just a flash of magick and darkness, and Gwen had been ripped from the beach where she had been happily chatting with her mother, sharing for the first time news she’d been excited to speak of.

  Not that she’d had to tell her mother, as mermaids had extra-special senses; Amynta had known even before Gwen had said anything, but had been smart enough to let her daughter speak of it in her own time.

  Gwen rubbed her palm across her belly, not yet showing the baby that grew within, and made a promise to her child.

  “I don’t know for sure what’s happening right now. If you feel my fear, please know it is only temporary. We’ve got a lot of people who love us and will fight for us. This is just a moment in time. Soon we’ll be back in the arms of those we love, and you’ll feel nothing but joy and song coming your way from me. This I promise you, my little one – we’ll be safe soon enough.”

  She’d only just discovered she was pregnant a few weeks before, and had shyly told Loch the news one night when he’d taken her for a surprise picnic under the stars. The elation on his face had erased any worries she’d had about telling him. They hadn’t even married yet or spoken of whether they wanted children, so the pregnancy had brought a slew of nerves with it for Gwen. When Loch had kissed her tenderly beneath the stars and laid his hand upon her belly, promising to love and protect them both for all time, her fears had been replaced with nothing but love and excitement.

  But for now she paced, spear in hand, and waited. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in this room, but she knew she was desperately hungry. She would only be able to go so long without water or food before she’d weaken, and her babe needed sustenance.