Then he saw the light, a gold glimmer through the trees. Tawny eyes narrowed as he moved toward the circle of stones. He stepped through them, saw her standing in the center. And went very still.
She wore a long dress the color of moondust that foamed around her ankles. Her hair was loose, flowing over her shoulders, with hints of silver shining in it from the jewels wound through. There was silver at her wrists as well, at her ears.
And on the bodice of her dress lay a pendant, an oval of moonstone in a setting of hammered silver.
She stood slim and straight behind the fire she'd made. Then she smiled at him.
"Waiting for me to scratch your ears, Liam?" She caught the quick flash of temper in his eyes, and only continued to smile.
The wolf stepped forward, became a man. "You left without a word."
"I thought we had plenty of words."
"Now you've come back."
"So it seems." She arched a brow with a studied coolness even as her stomach jumped with raw nerves. "You're wearing your amulet. So you've decided."
"Aye. I'll take my duty when it comes. And you wear yours."
"My great-grandmother's legacy to me." Rowan closed her fingers around the stone, felt it calm her nerves. "I've accepted it, and myself."
His hands burned to touch her. He kept them lightly fisted at his side. "I'll be going back to Ireland."
"Really?" She said it lightly, as if it meant nothing to her. "I'm planning on leaving for Ireland myself in the morning. That's why I thought I should come back and finish this."
"Ireland?" His brows drew together. Who was this woman? was all he could think, so cool, so self-possessed.
"I want to see where I came from. It's a small country," she said with a careless shrug, "but large enough for us to stay out of each other's way. If that's what you want."
"I want you back." The words were out before he could stop them. He hissed out a curse, jammed his fisted hands into his pockets. So he'd said it, he thought, humbled himself with the words and the needs. And the hell with it. "I want you back," he repeated.
"For what?"
"For-" She baffled him. He dragged his hands free to rake them through his hair. "For what do you think? I'll take my place in the family, and I want you with me."
"It's hardly that simple."
He started to speak, something ill-advised and much too heated he realized, and pulled himself back. Control might be shaky-in the name of Finn, just look at her-but it was still there. "All right, I hurt you. I'm sorry for it. It was never my intention, and I apologize."
"Well then, you're sorry. Let me just jump into your arms."
He blinked, deeply shocked at the biting tone. "What do you want me to say? I made a mistake-more than one. I don't like admitting it."
"You'll have to, straight out. You took your time deciding if I'd suit you-and your purposes. Once you decided what those purposes would be. When you didn't know about my bloodline you considered if you should take me and get out of the duty you weren't sure you wanted. And when you did know, then it was a matter of deciding if I'd suit you if you did accept it."
"It wasn't that black and white." He let out a breath, admitting that sometimes the gray areas didn't matter. "But yes, more or less. It would have been a big step either way."
"For me as well," she tossed back, eyes firing. "But how much did you consider that?"
She whirled away, and had him rushing after her before he'd realized he'd moved. "Don't go."
She hadn't intended to, just to pace off her temper, but the quick desperation in the two words had her turning slowly.
"For pity's sake, Rowan, don't leave me again. Do you know what it was for me to come for you that morning and see you were gone. Just gone." He turned away, scrubbing his face over his hands as he struggled with the pain. "The house empty of you, and still full of you. I was going to go after you, right then and there, drag you back where I wanted you. Where I needed you."
"But you didn't."
"No." He turned to face her. "Because you were right. All the choices had been mine. This was yours and I had to live with it. I'm asking you now not to leave me again, not to make me live with it. You matter to me."
Everything inside her cried out to go to him. Instead she lifted her brows again. "Matter to you? Those are small words for such a big request."
"I care for you."
"I care for the puppy the little girl next door has. I'm not content with that from you. So if that's all-"
"I love you. Damn it, you know very well I love you." He snatched her hand to keep her from leaving. Both the gesture and the tone were anything but loverlike.
Somehow she kept her voice steady. "We've established I don't have the gift to see, so how do I know very well what you don't tell me?"
"I am telling you. Damn it, woman, can't you hear, either?" His control slipped enough to have sparks snapping in the air around them. "It's been you, all along, right from the start of it. I told myself I didn't-that I wouldn't until I decided. I made myself believe it, but there was no one ever but you."
The thrill of it-the words, the passion behind them driven by as much anger as heart-spun through her like rainbows. Even as she started to speak, he released her hand to prowl the circle much as the wolf he favored.
"And I don't like it." He flung the words over his shoulder at her. "I'm not required to like it."
"No." She wondered why she should feel delighted rather than insulted. And it came to her that it gave her an unexpected, and desperately sweet power over him. "No, you're not. Neither am I."
He whirled back, glaring at her. "I was content in my life as it was."
"No, you weren't." The answer surprised both of them. "You were restless, dissatisfied and just a little bored. And so was I."
"You were unhappy. And the way you're thinking now it's that I should have taken advantage of that. Plucked you up straight away, told you things you couldn't have been prepared to hear and carried you off to Ireland. Well, I didn't and I won't be sorry for that much. I couldn't. You think I deceived you, and maybe I did."
He shrugged now, a regal motion that made her lips want to curve into a smile. "You needed time, and so did I. When I came to you as a wolf it was to comfort. It was as a friend. And so I saw you naked-and enjoyed it. Why shouldn't I?"
"Why indeed," she murmured.
"When I loved you in dreams, we both enjoyed it."
Since that was issued as a challenge, she merely inclined her head. "I don't think I ever said otherwise. But still, that choice was yours."
"Aye, it was, and I'd make it again if only to touch you with my mind. It's not easy for me to admit that I want you as I do. To tell you that I've suffered being without you. Or to ask you to forgive me for doing what I thought was right."
"You've yet to tell me what it is you expect from me now."
"I've been clear enough on it." Frustration shimmered around him. "Do you want me to beg?"
"Yes," she said after a very cool, very thoughtful moment.
His eyes went bright gold with shock, then dark with what she thought was temper. When he started toward her, her knees began to tremble. Then eyes narrowed, he was down on his.
"Then I will." He took her hands that had gone numb. "I'll beg for you, Rowan, if that's what it takes to have you."
"Liam-"
"If I'm to humble myself, at least let me get on with it," he snapped. "I don't think you were ordinary ever. Weak is something I don't believe you could be. What I see in you is a woman with a tender heart-too tender at times to think of herself. You're the woman I want. I've wanted before, but I've never needed. I need you. You're who I care for. I've cared before, but never loved. I love you. I'm asking that it be enough for you, Rowan."
She'd been struck speechless, but found her voice as she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Why did you never ask before?"
"Asking's not easy for me. If it's arrogance, that's how I am. Damn it, I'm asking you to
take me as I am. You love me. I know you do."
So much for begging, she thought and had to fight back a smile. He managed to look arrogant and not a little fierce even on his knees. "I never said I didn't. Are you asking me for more?"
"For everything. I'm asking you to take me on-what I am and what I'll do. To be my wife, leave your home for mine and understand that it's forever. Forever, Rowan." The faintest of smiles touched his mouth. "For wolves mate for life, and so do I. I'm asking you to share that life, to let me share yours. I'm asking you here, in the heart of this sacred place, to belong to me."
He pressed his lips to her hands, held them there until she felt his words turn to feelings and the feelings rush through her like magic.
"I'll have no other but you," he murmured. "You said to me that I held your heart in my hands, and that I'd never have another like it. I'm telling you now you have mine in yours, and I swear to you, Rowan, you'll never have another like it. No one will ever love you more. The choice is yours."
She studied him, the way his face lifted to hers, how the light from the fire he'd taught her to make danced over it. She didn't need his thoughts to see now. All she wanted was there, in his eyes.
She made her choice, and lowered to her knees so their eyes were on level. "I'll take you on, Liam, as you'll take me. And I'll take nothing less than forever. I'll share the life we make together. I'll belong to you, as you belong to me. That's my choice, and my promise."
Swamped with emotion, he lowered his brow to hers. "God, I missed you. Every hour of every day. There's no magic without you. No heart in it."
He found her mouth with his, pulling her close, swaying as the force of feeling rocked him. She wrapped her arms around him, gave him every answer to every question.
"I could drown in you." He rose to his feet, lifting her high, and her laughter rang out pure and bright as she threw her arms up.
Starlight dazzled her eyes. She watched one shoot across the sky as he spun with her. A trail of gold, a shower of silver. "Tell me again!" she demanded. "Tell me now. Right now!"
"I love you. Now-" He lowered her until their mouths met again. "And ever."
She held him close, heartbeat to heartbeat. "Liam of Donovan." Leaning back, she smiled at him. Her prince, her witch. Her mate. "Will you grant me a boon?"
"Rowan of O'Meara, you have only to ask what you will."
"Take me to Ireland. Take me home."
Pleasure swirled into his eyes. "Now, a ghra?" My love.
"In the morning." She drew him back to her. "It's soon enough."
And when they kissed with the firelight glowing, the stars shimmering, the faeries danced in the forest. In the hills far away, pipes played in celebration, and songs of joy were sung.
Love no longer waited, but found its mark.
The End
A Little Magic
--1 Ever After (01-2002)--
Chapter 1
"This," the old woman said, "is for you."
Allena studied the pendant that swung gently from the thickly braided links of a silver chain. Really, she'd only come in to browse. Her budget didn't allow for impulse buys which were, of course, the most fun and the most satisfying. And her affection for all things impulsive was the very reason she couldn't afford to indulge herself.
She shouldn't have entered the shop at all. But who could resist a tiny little place tucked into the waterfront of a charming Irish village? Especially a place called Charms and Cures.
Certainly not Allena Kennedy.
"It's beautiful, but I_"
"There's only one." The woman's eyes were faded and blue, like the sea that slapped and spewed against the stone wall barely a stone's throw from the door. Her hair was steel gray and bundled into a bun that lay heavy on her thin neck.
She wore a fascinating rattle of chains and pins, but there was nothing,
Allena thought, like the pendant she held in her bony fingers. "Only one?"
"The silver was cured in Dagda's Cauldron over the Midsummer's fire and carved by the finger of Merlin. He that was Arthur's."
"Merlin?"
Allena was a sucker for tales of magic and heroics. Her stepsister Margaret would have sniffed and said no, she was simply a sucker.
"The high king's sorcerer wandered through Ireland in his time. It was here he found the Giant's Dance, and coveting it for Arthur, floated it away over the Irish Sea to Britain. But while he took magic from this land, some he also left." Watching Allena, she set the pendant swaying. "Here is some, and it belongs to you."
"Well, I really can't and" But Allena trailed off, her gaze locked on the pendant. It was a long oval, dulled and tarnished a bit, and centered in it was a carving in the shape of a bursting star.
It seemed to catch the murky, cloud-filtered light coming through the small shop window, hold it, expand it, so that it glittered hypnotically in Allena's eyes. It seemed the star shimmered.
"I just came in to look around."
"Sure and if you don't look, you can't find, can you? You came looking, all the way from America."
She'd come, Allena tried to remember, to assist Margaret with the tour group. Margaret's business, A Civilized Adventure, was very successful and very regimented. Everyone said that Allena needed some regimentation. And Margaret had been clear, brutally clear, that this opportunity was her last chance.
"Be organized, be prepared, and be on time," Margaret had told her as she'd sat behind her polished desk in her perfectly terrifying and perfectly ordered office in New York. "If you can manage that, there might be a chance for you. If you can't, I wash my hands of you, Lena."
It wouldn't be the first time someone had washed their hands of her. In the past three years she'd lost three jobs. Well, four, but it didn't seem necessary to count those hideous two days she'd spent as assistant to her uncle's mother-in-law's sister.
It wasn't as if she'd spilled ink on the white Valentino gown on purpose.
And if the Social Dragon hadn't insisted that she use a fountain pen I mean, really for all correspondence, there wouldn't have been ink to spill.
But that wasn't the point, she reminded herself as she stared at the pendant. She'd lost that job and all the others, and now Margaret was giving her a chance to prove she wasn't a complete moron.
Which, Allena feared, she probably was.
"You need to find your place."
Blinking, Allena managed to tear her gaze away from the pendant and look back into the old woman's eyes. They seemed so kind and wise. "Maybe I don't have one."
"Oh, there now, each of us has one, but there are those who don't fit so easily into the world the way others see it. And us. You've only been looking in the wrong places. Till now. This," she said again,
"belongs to you."
"I really can't afford it." There was apology in her voice, even as she reached out. Just to touch. And touching, she felt heat from the silver, and terrible longing inside her. A thrill raced up her spine even as something heavy seemed to settle over her heart.
It couldn't hurt to try it on. Surely there was no harm in just seeing how it looked on her, how it felt.
As if in a dream, she took the chain from the old woman, slipped it around her neck. The heaviness in her heart shifted. For a moment, the light through the window strengthened, beamed brilliantly over the trinkets and pots of herbs and odd little stones crammed on the shelves and counters.
An image swam into her mind, an image of knights and dragons, of wild wind and water, of a circle of stones standing alone under a black and raging sky.
Then a shadow that was a man, standing still as the stones, as if waiting.
In her heart she knew he waited for her, as no one had before and no one would after. And would wait, eternally.
Allena closed her hand over the pendant, ran her thumb over the star. Joy burst through her, clear as the sunlight. Ah, she thought. Of course. It's mine. Just as I'm his, and he's mine.
"How much is it?'' she heard
herself say, and knew no price would be too dear.
"Ten pounds, as a token."
"Ten?" She was already reaching for her purse. "It has to be worth more." A king's ransom, a sorcerer's spell, a lover's dream.
"It is, of course." But the woman merely held out her hand for the single note. "And so are you. Go on your journey, a chuid, and see."
"Thank you."
"You're a good lass," the woman said as Allena walked to the door.
And when it shut, her smile turned bright and crafty. "He won't be pleased, but you'll bring him 'round by Midsummer's Eve. And if you need a bit of help, well, that will be my pleasure."
Outside, Allena stared at the sea wall, the dock, the line of cottages as if coming out of a dream. Odd, she thought, hadn't that all been wonderfully odd?
She traced a finger over the pendant again. Only one, cast in Dagda's Cauldron, carved by Merlin.
Of course, Margaret would sneer and tell her that the old woman had a dozen more in the stockroom ready to pass them off to birdbrained tourists. And
Margaret, as always, was probably right. But it didn't matter.
She had the pendant and a wonderful story to go with it. And all for ten pounds. Quite a bargain.
She glanced up now, wincing. The sky was heavy with clouds, and all of them were thick and gray. Margaret would not be pleased that the weather wasn't falling in line with today's plans. The ferry ride to the island had been meticulously arranged.
Tea and scones would be served on the trip over, while Margaret lectured her twenty-person group on the history of the place they were about to visit. It had been Allena's job to type up Margaret's notes and print the handouts.
First stop would be the visitors' center for orientation. There would be a tour of a ruined abbey and graveyard, which Allena looked forward to, then lunch, picnic style, which the hotel had provided in hampers. Lunch was to last precisely sixty minutes.
They would then visit the beehive cottages, and Margaret would deliver a lecture on their history and purpose. The group would be allotted an hour to wander on their own, into the village, the shops, down to the beach, before gathering at four-thirty on the dot for high tea at the restored castle, with, naturally, another lecture on that particular spot.
Books by Nora Roberts Page 308