by Arianna Skye
“Took you long enough,” she said breathily.
Cerne’s eyebrow arched questioningly. “Pardon?”
“It took you long enough to say what was in your heart.” Rhiannon stretched her legs and gave Cerne a playful thwap on his mailed chest. “Thank you for breaking my fall, by the way.”
“Any time, my love.” Cerne wrapped his arms around her waist and helped her sit up. He turned her to face him, his gaze firm. “Why in the deities did you do that?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to see what ten thousand watts of energy felt like?” Rhiannon pushed a lock of Cerne’s hair from his brow, deciding it was time to become serious again.
“How did you bring me back?”
“With a little magical intervention. Look up.”
Rhiannon craned her neck up. Aine stood next to General Windsong peering over them. A smile curved Aine lips, yet sadness still swirled within her eyes.
Rhiannon rubbed her eyes, taking in the sight of General Windstorm wrapping his arm around Aine’s shoulders. Aine took in a deep breath and laid her head on his broad chest.
Windstorm, with his dark blond hair and warrior’s physique and Aine, with her raven curls and petite figure. Complete opposites, yet similar in many ways. They complemented each other.
“They make a charming couple, don’t they?” Cerne said, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her closer and lifted her chin, lowering his mouth to her neck.
Rhiannon nodded. It was more than that, though. The connection between the two was purer and more innocent. Cerne’s warm breath against her neck shoved all thoughts to the back of her mind. She wrapped her arms around him and brushed her armored chest against his. Gods, how she loved the way he made her feel. Hearing him say he loved her filled her with joy. She hoped she hadn’t imagined it.
“Cerne?” she asked, tracing her finger across his cheek. She wanted to hear him say it again.
Maybe she should just get it over and ask him. She gazed up at him, giving him the best puppy-dog eyes she could.
Cerne took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his jade eyes blazing with passion and desire. “Yes, my love?”
“I love you.”
Cerne lowered his lips to her ear, tracing light breaths along her earlobe. “I love you too, mo cridhe. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it earlier. I was a fool.” Rhiannon’s heart soared. Was she back floating on that cloud in limbo? Smiling, she pulled his mouth to hers. “Better late than never, my love.”
~*~*~
Cerne smiled. one less weight lifted from his chest. He was free. Free from his fears, free from his emotions—free to love. “Yes, I’m just sorry I had to be so stubborn and wait so long to tell you.”
“I wasn’t so compliant either, if you remember.” Rhiannon playfully pinched his nose, and pushed herself up. She turned to him and offered her hand. “Rise, my consort-to-be—my love.” Cerne clasped his hand in hers and allowed her to help him to his feet. He turned to Rowan and Aine and bowed. “Thank you for believing in me and my love.”
“Your actions showed your love. Sometimes it needs to be heard,” Aine said with a slight smile that belied the sorrow in her eyes.
It took a brave person to defy your sister, and an even braver one to destroy her.” Cerne strode to her and took her in a warm embrace. “I haven’t any doubt my brother would be proud of you were he here.”
“Or so I’ve been told. I can only hope. I wasn’t always this good.” She turned to Rhiannon.
“Look what I did to your friend.”
Rhiannon took her side next to Cerne. “You told me she was fine.” Cerne leaned in and brushed his lips against Rhiannon’s neck, sucking in the scent of her, reveling in the glory, knowing he would continue to enjoy the heady aroma of lavender and vanilla he’d come to love. “What friend?”
“Lara, my best friend. She was the only one who really clicked with me.” Aine sucked in a breath. “She’s an enchanted human with magical abilities. That’s why she wasn’t harmed.”
“So are you saying she’s a witch or something?” Rhiannon’s eyebrow rose quizzically.
Aine shrugged. “A witch is only one type of those enchanted. They are self-taught. Your friend is stronger than that. She has many gifts.”
This Lara sounded fascinating. Relief knowing Rhiannon had such a good friend on Earth flooded Cerne. An idea crossed his mind. “I’d love to meet her.” Rhiannon’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Of course.” Cerne pulled her firmly against him. “Anyone who’s taken care of the woman I love deserves to hear my thanks.” And he wanted to make Rhiannon happy. He would gladly go to all the ends of her Earth to give her that joy. “After all, you did mention you wanted to return.”
“Can we do that?” Rhiannon asked. “I mean, after Beltane, won’t we have wings?” Aine nodded. “But with a simple glamour spell, you can mask your wings. And I’m sure your friend is beside herself with worry. I would be if one of my friends was missing.” Cerne opened his mouth to speak, but two balls of bright light, one a light azure blue and the other a vibrant green floated the mists. The right flank must be secure, Cerne decided, watching Maeve and Belenus materialize before them.
Maeve brushed off her skirts and allowed Belenus her arm. They strode toward Cerne and Rhiannon. Holding a glowing orb in her hand, Maeve’s eyes remained grim.
“Your Highness.” She curtseyed before Rhiannon and held out the orb.
Rhiannon rolled her eyes. “All this protocol stuff kills me.” With a shake of her head, she continued, “My name is Rhiannon, remember? I’m assuming this is a reply from the elder council?”
“That it is, Rhiannon.” Maeve folded Rhiannon’s fingers around the orb. “I wish it were better news.”
Cerne looked over Rhiannon’s shoulder while she opened the messenger orb. Radan hadn’t found Onora in time. He found her basket, upturned on the vacant plains. The charred earth near the basket was consistent with Korrigan’s work. With a soft sigh, Rhiannon deactivated the orb and rested her head on Cerne’s shoulder. He pulled her closer, tracing his finger along her cheek.
“Things happen for a reason, my love,” he whispered soothingly in her ear. He knew how much she’d cared for Onora and wished things could be different. “She’s done some horrible things, regardless of being misguided. Those deeds cannot go without punishment.” Rhiannon shuddered against him. “I know. I wanted my instincts to be wrong for once.” Brushing a tear from her cheek, she gazed up at Maeve. “How are my parents?”
“The Queen and king are doing well. Your mother has made an almost complete recovery.
She should be as good as new by Beltane.” Maeve flashed a reassuring smile.
Cerne exhaled a deep sigh of relief. “Most excellent news, indeed.” He pressed a gentle kiss on Rhiannon’s cheek and caught another tear before it could fall. “Beltane is near. There will be no tears, my love.”
“Hearing you call me your love makes all my tears worth it.” Cerne took her lips with his.
Being able to say those words made it worthwhile for him as well.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rhiannon paced the royal chamber while a stone-faced Aine sat on the chaise with fingers clasped tightly on her lap. Jeez, is she the one who will be paraded around the elder council, or am I?
Rhiannon found some relief, however, when Maeve explained they could have a public or a private ritual. Frankly, as kinky as public sex sounded, it just wasn’t something that got her rocks off, along with food below the sunbelt and whips and chains. She thanked Korrigan for the latter.
With an unceremonious plop, she took a spot next to Aine. “What’s up?”
“Am I that readable, Your Highness?” Aine turned to face her, dark eyes sparkling with specks of green. She reached over and took Rhiannon’s hand in hers. “Councilman Evenspring gave me a stone he found—one of my sister’s. I still feel her energy inside it.” Her gaze remained somber. “Even though it’s only a small trace,
it still unnerves me.” Rhiannon nodded. “It’s only natural for some residual energy to remain. Her power was strong. Besides, it’s Beltane. Cerne and I will get our wings, then Korrigan’s lingering energy won’t stand a chance.”
“You’ll be two of the most powerful faeries in all the kingdoms. With Queen Titania and King Oberon, you and Cerne will have no troubles at all.” Gaze softening, she took Rhiannon in her arms and hugged her tight.
Rhiannon returned Aine’s embrace. “And with the new Dark Faerie Queen as an ally, peace is no longer a dream, but a reality—for both our kingdoms.”
“I fear it won’t be that easy, Rhiannon.” Aine pulled away, running her fingers through her mass of corkscrew curls. “Korrigan had many loyal subjects who may not be so accommodating.
We have to build trust between the two kingdoms.”
A commanding knock sounded on the door. “Come in!” It was time to become one with her consort. She would have to continue her discussion with Aine later. Rhiannon took a deep breath as the door swung open.
Aine dropped to the floor in a deep bow and lowered her head. Titania and Oberon, dressed in matching crimson robes of velvet stepped into the room. Behind them entered Radan
Evenspring and Rowan Windsong, followed by Maeve, Belenus and the remaining members of the elder council.
“Please rise, Queen Aine. We are now equal,” Titania commanded. She reached down, offering Aine her hand.
“I apologize, Your Majesty.” Aine replied, allowing the White Faerie queen to assist her. “I never expected to be queen of my people. I haven’t any idea how a queen is to act.” Titania nodded, taking her king’s hand in hers. “You’re a born leader, Aine. You’ll do fine.
My people are forever grateful for your service and sorry for your loss.” Aine’s eyes clouded with sorrow. Rhiannon could only imagine the sadness the Dark Faerie felt. “You’ll always be our friend, Aine,” Rhiannon said, with a reassuring gaze.
“Will you be staying for the ceremony, Aine?” Oberon asked, wrapping his arm around Titania.
Aine shook her head. “I can’t, unfortunately. I have to take care of my people. I only hope they can live with me as their queen.”
Titania gave Aine a warm smile. “You’ll be surprised, Queen Aine. Your people are now as free as you. However, I do understand your need to be with them. Go with the Goddess, and keep safe.”
Aine nodded and turned to Rhiannon. “Please remember what I said.”
“Yes, I will.” She took Aine in another embrace and patted her on the back. With Cerne at her side, there wasn’t anything, or anyone, who could defeat them. “We’ll be safe.” Aine nodded. She had truly come a long way, yet sorrow still shone in her eyes. “If you need anything, I am but a messenger orb away.” She smiled softly at General Windstorm and nodded her thanks to Evenspring. Aine wrapped herself in a cloak of grey mists. When the mists cleared, she was gone.
“I’ll miss her.” Maeve nuzzled up to Belenus who wrapped his arms around her.
Windstorm chuckled. “I don’t think that’s the last time we’ll see her.” Maeve’s eyebrow jutted up. “Oh, really? Why do you say that, General?”
“Well, she’s our friend. Friends generally keep in touch with each other.” Maeve’s face fell. “Oh, I see.”
Great. Was she trying to play matchmaker now? Although Aine and Windstorm did seem connected somehow, it wasn’t a romantic bond. It was too weird to explain.
Radan blew out a breath of air, while his hand fumbled in his pocket. “Shall we get this over with?”
Titania blinked and then nodded. “I lost track of time.” She extended her arm to Rhiannon.
“It’s time to finish getting dressed.”
Rhiannon looked down at the beautiful pale violet silk and gossamer that flowed around her.
“Aren’t I dressed already?”
Maeve stepped forward holding an ornate headdress. Two knotted white branches protruded from it like deer antlers. Pre-Fey, she would have laughed herself silly at such a sight. Now, however, all she could see was its beauty.
Glittering heather stalks, lavender and lilacs surrounded them. From Maeve’s other arm hung a gauzy veil. “All faerie brides must wear these for the ritual.” She draped the veil over Rhiannon’s head and set the crown on top. Maeve twisted the headdress, adjusting the antlers on Rhiannon’s head. “There, you’re ready now.” She turned Rhiannon toward the mirror hanging on the wall.
Rhiannon gasped, taking in her appearance. The lavender gossamer flowed about her feet, swishing against her ankles. The headdress twisted in her hair and frosted flowers dangled at her shoulders. Absolutely breathtaking. “Wow! This looks gorgeous.” She grabbed her skirts and twirled around again.
Titania stepped behind Rhiannon and wrapped her arms around her, pulling the veil down over Rhiannon’s face. “The gown pales in comparison to your beauty. We had better go, before your consort-to-be gets nervous.”
Rhiannon chuckled. “We can’t have any of that now, can we?”
“Certainly not.” Titania laced her arm with Rhiannon’s. Turning, she led Rhiannon out the door to the fate she’d at first fought. Now, all she wanted was to run toward Cerne and never let him go.
~*~*~
Cerne paced inside the circle of stones.
Where in the deities is everyone?
He gazed at the altar draped in silver and bedecked with roses, lavender, heather and ivy.
Three silver candles sat in the middle of the altar, flanked by two ornate crystal chalices. The priest and priestess stood silent and waiting behind the altar. Were they as nervous as him?
Cerne raked his gaze toward the castle and his breath caught. Radan and Rowan led the procession, their torches held high. His heart raced as worry gripped him. “Where do I stand?” The priestess, the long, billowing gown of spun silver swishing at her feet, took a spot next to him. She pointed to the head of the altar. “Stand there, to the left.” The priest, wearing an equally opulent robe of silver came to stand next to her. “And fear not. It’s a rather simple ritual, my lord.”
Cerne chuckled. Hopefully simpler than this frock he wore. He tugged the violet cape closer to him, catching a glimpse of an amethyst sparkle. Not usually one to wear jewels, it was oddly pleasant. Then there was the ornamental silver sword at his side. Belenus had explained that the sword was a symbol of the consort’s love and defending of his princess’s honor. In that case, he would gladly wear a thousand.
Looking at the veiled figure approaching, flanked by Queen Titania to her right and King Oberon to her left, Cerne’s breath caught. Everything he’d ever hoped and dreamed of was soon to become a reality. All of it paled in comparison to the one thing he valued most—Rhiannon.
You’re not getting cold feet, are you? Rhiannon’s soft seductive voice echoed in his head.
Cold feet? No! They’re sweating like mad. He fidgeted his feet. Or is that another of those human euphemisms? I never grow bored of them.
That it is. It means, you aren’t going to call it all off and run away?
Cerne gasped into her mind. Never!
Good.
The priestess bowed to the royal family. “Who presents this bride to be joined?”
“I do, Mother Priestess.” Titania lifted Rhiannon’s hand.
Oberon offered up Rhiannon’s other hand. “And I second.” It was now or never, Cerne thought, watching the priestess take Rhiannon’s hand and lead her next to him.
“I present your bride.” She turned to Rhiannon. “Bow to your consort-to-be.” Rhiannon nodded and bowed. A long gauzy veil held in place by an ornate headdress befitting a beautiful goddess flowed down over her face. The shimmering lavender and ivory gossamer gown flitted around her bare feet. Gods, how he wished he could see her beautiful emerald eyes under the
translucent veil.
The priestess turned to him and nudged him toward Rhiannon. “I present your groom. Bow to your life-mate, Cerne Silverwing.”
Maeve stood, held her sword high in the air, spun around three times, and faced the east.
“Riders of the four winds bear us tonight into the magical realm where time stands still.” She danced around her sword as she thrust it into the ground and then took her seat.
Aileana, the senior elder, rose with firestaff in hand and turned to the south sky. She held the staff high, fire bursting forth from it. In a clear, resonant voice, despite her age, Aileana said,
“Gods of blazing fire, phoenix that dies and is reborn, enchant our eyes with glory and delight.” She thrust the staff into the air and slammed it into the ground. She turned, bowed to Rhiannon and Cerne, and took her seat.
Belenus stood, bowed to them and turned to the west. He raised his hand, holding a fountain of water high in the air. “Goddess and God of the sea, winding rivers and streams, bring harmony to flow between us like sweet water and even sweeter wine.” Cerne stifled a chuckle, remembering the human swill Rhiannon had coerced him into drinking.
Don’t even go there. She chided his mind and nudged his elbow.
Belenus threw the water in the air. Cerne watched in awe as the waterfall rushed on its own accord. He curtseyed to Rhiannon and Cerne, flashed a surreptitious grin, and took his seat.
Jonas rose and turned to Cerne and Rhiannon. He bowed deeply and gripped his staff.
Facing the north, he took his knotted staff and thumped it into the ground three times. Holding a crystal high he said, “Goddess of the earth, forest, and woods, bring unto us this miracle of light and love.” Jonas wedged the staff into the ground and balanced the crystal on top of it. He bowed again and took his seat.
Cerne wrapped his arm around Rhiannon’s waist and turned her to face the priest and priestess at the altar. This is where it gets to be fun.