by Mary Morgan
Gliding his fingers over Ivy’s lush bottom, she nudged against him in her sleep. Instantly, his cock throbbed, and he longed to sink deep within her again. By the Gods, Conn had never known such desire.
The moment he returned with her in his arms, he ripped her clothes from her body. To touch her skin against his own. To taste what he dreamed never to feast on again. He fought the raw, pulsing tide of desire, but Ivy urged him on with her own passion.
Their day was spent in joyous union, exploring, whispering, and cherishing each other’s body. As the first star dusted the evening sky, Conn prepared a meal of honeyed bread and eggs, content to watch her nibble on her food, while she chatted about the store, Drust, and finding the letters her mother had written. He felt her frustration in her words, even when she talked about not being able to find out the meaning behind the two keys. There was senseless violence over items that possibly meant nothing. And when she worried about leaving her animals, the bookstore, and the villagers, he reassured her that all had been taken care of, including aid from Sean.
Conn listened with captivated attention. Every nuance about Ivy he found fascinating. When he swiped a crumb from her bottom lip, desire boiled to the surface once more and they made love right there on his table.
Sleep was elusive for him, his need so great. Nevertheless, his sweet Ivy required her own.
He placed a hand behind his head and stared at the ceiling. There was a final step before they were to be married. She had to meet the king. He’d purposely held off telling her, but come morning, he would have to present Ivy to him.
“You’re thinking far too much. Or maybe Fae don’t need to sleep.” She yawned and placed a hand over his heart.
“Contrary to what you may believe, Fae do require rest,” he replied dryly.
Ivy grasped his chin and forced him to meet her gaze. “Then why aren’t you resting?”
He took hold of her fingers and kissed each one. “In the morning, you are to appear before the king.”
She narrowed her eyes. “For what purpose?”
“His one request was to meet you before we were to be married.”
“Sounds like a reasonable demand. Tell me about him.”
Conn shifted and leaned on one elbow. “Fierce ruler, demanding, strict, arrogant, stubborn, loyal, and devoted to my mother and our people.”
Ivy smirked. “Sounds like you.”
Taken aback, he sat up. “We are nothing alike.”
She arched a brow in question. “You might want to re-think that statement.”
He snorted and looked away.
“I’ll reserve my final judgment after our meeting. Should be interesting.”
Conn snapped his attention back to her. “You’re not afraid?”
Sitting up and scooting near him, Ivy presented Conn with a glorious view. “Nope.”
Nodding slowly, he gestured to the feather pillows. “You should get more rest.”
Her eyes raked boldly over his body. “I’ve rested enough.”
Her rosy nipples teased him in the fading candlelight. “Come here.”
She smiled wickedly. Surprising Conn, she immediately straddled his waist and eased her body down over his swollen cock. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she trailed her tongue over his lip. “Better?”
Groaning, he fondled her breasts. “Yes.”
Ivy moved in slow, torturous movements, until they were swept away on a tidal wave of pleasurable bliss. Conn’s release so powerful, his vision blurred. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he brought Ivy down upon the covers. Nuzzling her neck, his last coherent thoughts were ones of love.
Blissful, deep sleep beckoned, and Conn followed.
When the deep pounding refused to relent, he let out a growl. Had he not just fallen asleep? Ivy stirred in his arms. “Make them go away,” she mumbled.
Refusing to move from the warmth of her body, Conn snuggled her closer to his. Yet, the infernal pounding continued.
“By the hounds of Cuchulainn,” he roared.
Gently moving Ivy aside, he bolted out of the bed and stormed to his front door. Yanking it open, he glared into the face of Ronan. “What do you want?”
Ronan’s lips twitched with humor. “Good afternoon. Did ye forget about Ivy’s appointment with the king?”
“Of course not,” he snapped. “Wait, did you say afternoon?” Conn glanced over his shoulder at the sunlight dancing through the crystal panes.
“Aye.”
“Shit.” He rubbed a hand vigorously over his face. “Inform the king she’ll be there within the hour.”
Ronan turned to leave, but paused. “The next time ye greet someone at your door, ye might want to put on some clothing. Ye were fortunate I persuaded your mother that I should be the one to fetch ye and Ivy, and not her.”
Conn grumbled a curse and slammed the door. He could hear the warrior’s laughter all the way down the corridor.
Entering his inner chamber, he found Ivy sitting up. Her tousled appearance, swollen lips, and body called out to him. Striding over to her, he placed a kiss along her brow. “Sorry, but we’ve managed to oversleep. Something I’ve never done in my lifetime, until I met you.”
She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “It would seem we’re making this a habit. I’m sure your father will understand.”
Conn let out a groan as he lifted her into his arms. “Again, you have yet to meet the Fae king.”
Ivy nibbled his earlobe. “Where are you taking me?”
“To my inner bathing chamber.”
“What about clothes?” she asked, trailing a path below his ear with her tongue.
He found it difficult to concentrate. “The wardrobe…has been stocked with dresses. More can be made to your liking when you see the Fae designer.”
“I love the clothing here. Makes me feel sensual,” she purred against his skin.
Entering the bathing chamber, Conn waved his hand outward. Warm water appeared inside a huge copper tub. Originally, his idea was to have her bathe quickly by herself. But with Ivy, he found his plans often changing.
Stepping inside the tub, they both let out a sigh as he submerged them in the soothing, warm water. If his father had waited this long, he could wait another hour. Or two.
****
Ivy chose a pale blue gown after nervously inspecting ten other dresses. She wanted to greet the King of the Fae looking her best. After all, he was her future father-in-law. She cupped a hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to spill forth. “Would you ever have imagined this life, Ivy?” Biting the inside of her cheek, she stood up from the marble bench and paced in front of a large mirror.
Earlier, she’d protested to Conn that he didn’t need to prepare his father. She was quite comfortable going into the room by herself. Heated words were exchanged, and Ivy pondered if there was more to what Conn was telling her about his father. Was the king a monster? Maybe he disliked humans and only agreed for Conn’s sake. Ivy shook her head at the silly nonsense. Her future husband had become more protective than ever.
Glancing into the mirror, she lifted her chin. Her cheeks held a rosy glow, and her lips were red and swollen from all the kisses she had shared with Conn. The woman gazing back at her was one in love and it showed everywhere. Her face heated more, and Ivy pressed a cool hand to her forehead and strolled away from the mirror.
Dizziness blurred her vision, but she quickly recovered and leaned against an archway. “All I want is a decent night’s sleep,” she said. If only she was able to sleep fully and without the nightly dreams. They had started when she returned home from the Fae world. It was always the same recurring dream. A child’s whisper—calling out to its mother. Over and over again, the plea to be heard. In the beginning, Ivy believed it was herself. Yet, the voice didn’t sound like hers.
“Ready?” Conn gently touched her shoulder.
Ivy jumped from the contact. “Sorry. Deep in thoughts.”
He put h
is arms around her waist. “You have nothing to fear.”
She shook her head and leaned against him. “I’m not. I keep having this recurring dream.”
Conn drew her back. “Nightmare?”
“No, not at all.” Noting his concern, she gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll tell you about it later. Take me to meet the king.”
He stared at her for a few more moments, and then placed her hand in the crook of his arm. Approaching the entrance, the gilded doors opened.
Peeking inside, she asked, “You never mentioned this, but do I curtsy? Bow?”
Conn cupped her chin and kissed her soundly. “Neither. I will await you outside.”
Ivy gave him a wink and turned to enter the massive chamber. The doors closed quietly behind her.
If she thought Conn’s chambers expansive, they were miniscule compared to his father’s. Glancing around, she noted the dark, forest green colors. Two long corridors branched out on either side of the chamber. It was as if she had stepped into the woods teeming with twinkling lights and golden colors. Giant tapestries adorned the surrounding walls, each depicting a scene with a Fae. Massive bookcases towered upward, their shelves lined with books that would take a lifetime to read. Scrolls, quills, and books were scattered across a large polished desk with the king’s chair big enough to hold two people. A giant globe of the kingdom rested on a stand with four golden dragons as the legs. The object slowly moved in a clockwise rotation, and Ivy longed to study the world. The heady scent of flowers and earth filled her as she continued to observe the chamber in all directions.
The blaze from the hearth at the end of the room called out to her, but she kept herself rooted to the center.
Ivy knew the moment the king entered the room. His presence surrounded her making her skin tingle. He seemed to materialize from one of the tapestries. Ivy’s mouth gaped open and then she quickly snapped it shut. A mirror image of Conn, though older and with shorter hair, walked toward her.
“Greetings, Ivy Kathleen O’Callaghan, and welcome to our world. I am King Ansgar.” His voice had depth and authority as he stood in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back.
Straightening her shoulders, she smiled fully. “I’m honored to be here, though this is not my first time in your beautiful home.”
His smile was disarming, so like his son’s. “You are correct, and this isn’t the first time we have met.”
She arched a brow slightly. “Were you there when Conn brought me to his chambers after I was injured?”
The king nodded.
“Then I am indebted for your kindness and generosity. If your son had not brought me here, I would have surely died.”
He gestured outward. “Walk with me.”
King Ansgar led her down the corridor on the right. More tapestries lined the walls in an array of stunning colors. Entering another larger chamber, the king led her to a large balcony overlooking a lush garden. Ivy could make out the hills in the background, decked in autumn colors. A variety of roses, foxglove, lavender, iris, and honeysuckle—their blossoms larger than any she’d ever seen spilled over large archways leading to other areas of the garden.
“Beautiful,” she whispered, placing her hand on her chest. Inhaling deeply, she released it slowly.
“A favorite of the queen’s as well.”
Ivy kept her focus on the landscape. “Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”
His laughter was rich and warm. “You do realize I was against this union in the beginning?”
Ivy glanced at him sharply. “Yes. But you changed your mind.”
King Ansgar rubbed a hand over his chin. “We don’t change our minds, Ivy. I was led to another path of light.”
“Are you worried I won’t be good enough for Conn? Or are you concerned because I’m human and will one day rule by his side?”
This time, the king roared with laughter. “Perceptive. A quality I admire in you—one of many.”
Turning fully toward the king, she asked, “Which are?”
He stepped closer. “Love and loyalty to my son. You have given him your heart. It reflects in your eyes and aura, basking you in a rose glow.” Sighing, he placed his hands on the stone ledge and turned his sight outward. “The queen informed me that your lives have been interwoven. A destiny that began centuries ago. I might have been against this marriage, but in truth, I only wish happiness for my son.”
Ivy reached out and placed a hand on the king’s arm. “I love him with every fiber of my being. Even if you banish me from this place, I will always love him.”
The king pushed away from the wall. “One day, Conn shall rule a kingdom that is older than the ground we walk upon. Nonetheless, in order to rule, he must have love within his heart. And he cannot govern a people if you are not by his side.”
For the first time, Ivy pondered the possibility of the Fae—the people not accepting her. She twisted her fingers together. “There is so much to learn and prove to the Fae.”
Frowning, he crossed his arms over his chest. “The first lesson I will pronounce is that the Fae love the humans. Our blood has mingled with them before and you shall learn more in your teachings. As long as you love the prince, our people will become yours. You have already endeared yourself among them.”
Startled, Ivy asked, “How? I’ve only met Ronan, and the queen.”
He chuckled softly. “When the Fenian Warrior was escorting you about the land, he was introducing you to our people.”
“You knew?”
“No. On orders of my dear wife, the queen.”
“I do not give out orders, only requests,” corrected Queen Nuala gliding into the room. She grasped Ivy’s hands. “I believe the king has sequestered you long enough in here. Welcome, again, to your new home.”
The warmth of her touch filled Ivy. “Thank you.”
The queen released her hands. “I’ve come to inform you that Conn awaits you in the Hall of Remembrance. There is some knowledge that must be illuminated for you both.”
“Would you care to enlighten me?” King Ansgar asked in a warning tone.
“Later, my love.”
Reaching for his wife’s hand, he placed a lingering kiss inside the palm. “Do not keep me waiting.”
She smiled fully. “Never.”
The king nodded slightly toward Ivy. “The wedding is in two days. I shall see you then.”
Surprised, Ivy sputtered, “Bu…but King Ansgar, there’s so much to prepare and…and I haven’t discussed anything with Conn.”
He took her hand. “There will be no argument. In addition, from this day forward, please call me, Ansgar.”
In a brilliant flash, the Fae King vanished, leaving Ivy dazed.
The queen took Ivy’s arm. “Have no fear, the entire kingdom will be more than willing to assist with the festivities.”
“I suppose so.” Anxiety settled within her.
“Good.” She patted Ivy’s hand. “Close your eyes. It will help when I transport you into the hall.”
Ivy’s breath seemed to solidify in her mouth, so she nodded. She felt a slight tingle, but it was over in seconds.
The queen whispered, “You may open them now.”
Delighted, Ivy looked around. “Amazing!”
Conn was at her side in two strides. “Did it go well with my father?”
“He’s as charming as you, so yes.”
Placing a protective arm around her, he moved her along the corridor. “These are images of my life we are witnessing.”
“Do you know what this is about?” she asked keeping her voice low, fascinated by the moving pictures.
“No.”
They stopped in front of one of the panels. The image remained blurred. Queen Nuala approached and stood beside it. When she spoke, she kept her gaze on her son. “When you rescued Dervla, you unexpectedly set in motion a series of new threads on many lives. Even the seer did not foresee what would happen.”
Conn let out a gr
owl. “Old knowledge, mother.”
“Do not interrupt,” she ordered in a voice of authority.
Queen Nuala waved her hand over the picture. Instantly, the image came to life.
Fascinated, Ivy moved away from Conn. Everyone was arguing in the far corner of the open field, but it was the figure standing behind the tree that captured Ivy’s attention. She was drawn to the person, as if she knew their identity. Ivy lifted her hand outward.
“Do not touch the panel,” ordered Conn softly.
“I know her,” she stated in a low voice.
“As you should,” said the queen. “For she is your ancestor.”
Ivy’s fingers ached to touch her, and the room faded away. Light bounced off the reflection and knowledge of her ancestor flooded within her. Time bent and folded, weaving a pattern of not only her ancestor’s life, but of the others that followed. Their journey was one of strength, courage, bravery, and love. All streaming through time to bring about one culmination.
“This is where it began, but it did not end here. We were the hidden, but strong. We were forgotten, but forged a new path. Darkness shrouded us in secrecy, but the light shone brightly on our path.” Ivy swayed, as deep heaviness descended all around her.
“Open your eyes, mo ghrá,” whispered Conn, cradling her in his arms.
Ivy blinked and gazed into eyes blazing like she’d never seen before. She cupped his cheek. “I saw them all.”
Queen Nuala touched her head. “Your ancestors, beginning with the first one in the image?”
“Yes. And you were wrong, Conn.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
Ivy pushed away from him, though remained seated in his lap. “Her lineage was kept strong and in hiding. She watched knowing she was not meant to be the one saved. She married secretly and well—to a druid, I believe.” Ivy rubbed her head, trying to sort out all the knowledge. “She had the gift of sight, too.”
Conn glanced sharply at his mother. “But I was put on trial. Made to witness an event that shredded the fabric of many generations.”
His mother shrugged slightly. “At the time, we did not fully see its purpose. Contrary to what many believe, even the Fae make mistakes. It was all part of the process.”