by Donna Grant
“May we all unite in love,” they said together.
Moira captured Glenna’s eyes. “The joining together of man and woman in the sacred rite of marriage brings together great forces from which may flow the seeds of future generations to be nurtured within the womb of time. A union based on true love finds many expressions. This union is truly holy.”
Glenna’s eyes fluttered as she gazed into Conall’s quicksilver eyes. They held such promise she wondered how she ever thought to leave him. She pushed aside her thoughts as the time drew near for her part.
“Who walks the path of the moon to stand before Heaven to declare her sacred vows?” Frang asked.
Glenna swallowed and smiled as Conall winked at her. She stepped forward. “I do.”
“Who walks the path of the sun to stand upon this holy earth and declare his sacred vow?”
Conall came to stand beside her. “I do.”
Glenna’s soul rose up in elation at hearing his words. His hand brushed hers and she longed to have his strong arms around her. But for now she would have to be content to hold on to his hand.
They walked together around the circle. First one way then the other until they returned to the east.
Frang smiled at them. “Conall and Glenna you have walked the circles of the moon and sun, will you now walk together the Circle of Time, traveling through the elements and time?”
She and Conall shared a smiled before they answered, “We will.”
Still holding on to his hand they walked to the Druid who represented the South. “Will your love survive the harsh fires of change?”
“It will,” she and Conall answered.
“Then accept the blessing of the Element of Fire in this place of Summer. May your home be filled with warmth.”
Conall led Glenna to the Druid of the West. “Will your love survive the ebb and flow of feeling?” the Druid asked.
“It will,” she answered.
“Accept the blessing of the Element of Water in this place of Autumn. May your life together be filled with love.”
Their steps brought them to the Druid of the North. “Will your love survive the times of stillness and restriction?”
They shared a brief smile. “It will.”
“Then accept the blessing of the Element of Earth in this place of Winter. May your union be strong and fruitful.”
At last they came to the Druid of the East. She smiled warmly before she said, “Will your love survive the clear light of day?”
“It will.”
“Then accept the blessing of the Element of Air in this place of Spring. May your marriage be blessed with the light of every new dawn.”
Glenna’s eyes misted as Conall squeezed her hand. Although the ceremony was nearly done, she and Conall had been joined by their souls since the day they met.
“Do you swear to keep sacred your vows?” Frang asked.
Conall took her other hand as they faced each other. “We do,” they said.
Moira placed one hand on Glenna’s shoulder and the other on Conall’s. “Then seal your promise with a kiss.”
Glenna wrapped her arms around Conall’s neck as he clasped her to him. The kiss sealed their souls, hearts and bodies together. They were mates who had found each other again and would continue to do so through time.
Dimly, Glenna became aware of Frang blessing their union and their children. Gradually Conall ended the kiss but didn’t release her. Glenna knew that once they returned to the castle he wouldn’t allow her to leave the chamber for at least a sennight, and she welcomed that reprieve after all they had been through.
While she and Conall stared into each other’s eyes the Four Directions and their Elements said their blessings. Frang and Moira finished their blessings and ended the ceremony.
“It’s done,” Conall said, and ran his hand down her face, the love shining brightly in his eyes.
“Aye. It’s done.”
* * * * *
Gregor watched Conall carry Glenna back to the castle where a large feast and celebration awaited them. It seemed that things were back to normal at the MacInnes’ clan. Conall no longer cast aside his Druid blood, and the MacNeil was gone. For now.
If all Moira had said was true, MacNeil would be back. Of that he had no doubt. MacNeil wanted the sisters dead, and he would keep going after them until they were gone. Only then would MacNeil rest easy.
Gregor rubbed his medallion through his shirt and vest. Home. He hadn’t seen home in over ten years. Hadn’t even gone near that land. Now he yearned to see it. All because his sense of right and wrong had found its way back into his heart, emotions once again made their presence known.
He was proud of himself for doing the right thing and standing beside Conall, but he was also annoyed with himself because his mercenary life was now over. What was he to do now? Wander Scotland forever? Nay.
He was tired of wandering. He had become comfortable in Conall’s home, and it made him ache for one of his own. He looked up to find himself alone on the cliff. Everyone was at the castle celebrating. It was a perfect time to leave. He knew better than to see Conall. If he did, he knew Conall would offer him a place in the clan, and Gregor wouldn’t be able to pass up that boon.
If he was to leave, it needed to be now. He turned after one last look over the castle and the sounds of revelry and found Frang staring at him. The wise Druid priest gave him a nod. Gregor returned the greeting and hurried to his mare. Better get out soon, he told himself. Great powers pulsed here and he didn’t need to be caught up in them anymore.
Epilogue
Glenna was thankful for the support Conall gave her as she hobbled out of the castle. The wedding feast had commenced as soon as the ceremony had ended and had lasted all day.
The sun had begun its decent when Glenna felt Moira’s call. She had told Conall, but he had refused to let her out of his sight. After several hours of telling him she needed to go to Moira, he had given in, albeit grudgingly.
“Enough of this,” he grumbled, and lifted her in his arms. He carried her until they reached Moira, who stood beside Gregor.
“Where will you go now?” Glenna asked Gregor when she saw his horse standing nearby. Their presence seemed to agitate Gregor, as if he couldn’t get away from them fast enough. She didn’t understand that after all he had done for them.
He shrugged. “Somewhere.”
“I have a job for you,” Moira said, stopping Gregor in his tracks.
Gregor raised a blonde brow. “I’m not sure I’m the man you want.”
Moira just smiled. “How does this sound?” she asked, and threw him a small bag that rattled with coins. “Half now and half on completion.”
He eyed the bag in his hand. “What do you want me to do?”
“Bring our sister Fiona to us.”
Glenna watched as he mulled over Moira’s offer. She hadn’t known Moira would ask him to bring Fiona here, but she agreed he was the man to do it. Gregor was the type who other men avoided, and the need for Fiona to get here quickly and quietly was of utmost importance.
“Please,” Glenna begged him. “You’re the only man who can get her here without letting her fall into MacNeil’s clutches.”
“All right,” he agreed. “But know I’m doing this for the coin not because I like you.”
“Of course,” Conall said, wearing a knowing smirk he didn’t try to hide.
Glenna elbowed him in the ribs and gave Gregor a big smile. “Good luck,” she called out.
Conall wrapped his arms around her as Gregor mounted his horse and rode out the gates. “He’ll get her here.”
“I know.”
“Good. Then let’s go enjoy the night,” he whispered seductively in her ear before he kissed the sensitive spot on the back of her neck.
“But Moira.”
He glanced up and found Moira gone. “She’s left.”
Glenna laid her head on his chest. “Then let us not tarry here a moment longer,
my laird.”
Conall looked down at amazement at the nymph who had captured his heart and soul. It still astonished him that she was now his wife.
His.
Mine.
About the Author
Donna Grant is the award-winning author of more than twenty-five novels spanning multiple genres of romance—Scottish Medieval, historical, dark fantasy, time travel, paranormal and erotic—to both electronic and print publishers.
Donna was born and raised in Texas but loves to travel. Her adventures have taken her throughout the United States as well as Jamaica and Mexico. Growing up on the Texas/Louisiana border, Donna’s Cajun side of the family taught her the “spicy” side of life while her Texas roots gave her tow-steppin’ and bareback riding.
Despite the deadlines and her voracious reading, Donna still manages to keep up with her two young children, three cats and one long-haired Chihuahua. She’s blessed with a proud, supportive husband who’s learned to cook far more than frozen chicken nuggets.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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