by A. C. James
Cyn shook her head, relief washing over her. “No.”
“So, what about you and that bloke I heard you had a bit of fun with on holiday?” Nathan asked, his express unreadable.
“Well, it was my birthday. And you know me, I do love a right good time,” Cyn said, attempting to keep things light.
Nathan searched her eyes, and for a moment his dark expression resurfaced. “That’s not what Felicity said.”
A chill ran down her spine. “Whatever do you mean?”
“She was convinced you’d fallen in love with him, and that you wouldn’t be coming home for a long time.”
Cyn shifted in her seat. She no longer had an appetite. “I have a photo shoot coming up. I couldn’t slouch on my responsibilities.”
He nodded. “I’m so glad to have you back, Cyn. I missed you so much.”
His admission hung in the air as he waited for her response. “I missed you, too. I’ve always valued our friendship.”
Nathan gripped the menu tighter. He took a deep breath, and then relaxed his hands. “I was so worried about you. Nothing she was telling me sounded like something you’d ever do. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, my dear.”
Cyn gritted her teeth. Nathan was smiling, and he reached over to pat her hand. When she didn’t pull away, he twined his fingers with hers and squeezed. Cyn snatched her hand away, tucking it on her lap beneath the table.
“You are feeling better, aren’t you, Cyn?” Nathan asked, worry filling his eyes.
“Of course I am. And Felicity was wrong. It was just a holiday fling. Now I’m home where I belong,” she said, sounding brusque.
Right. Keep telling yourself that, love. She could practically hear Felicity’s mocking voice inside her head. And of course she would be right. Cyn was miserable without Fallon.
“Would you like to accompany me to dinner? Y’know, to celebrate your homecoming? We’ll go to Thai Thai, or get sushi, or anything you’d like. Maybe something exotic that you couldn’t find in the Aran Islands.”
Cyn shook her head. “No. I mean, I’m sorry, Nathan. I’m really not feeling well. I think I’d better go home and take a nap—”
Nathan cut in, looking desperate. “Cyn, please? I’ve missed you so much.”
“Nathan, I’m sorry,” Cyn said, quickly getting up from the table. “I really can’t, I have to go.”
Nathan rose from the table. “Come on, it’s just a dinner.”
“I really can’t, Nathan.”
“Cyn, you’ve bloody teased me for years. How do you expect me to feel when you reject me after reeling me in again and again?”
The anger in his voice made her nervous. Cyn grabbed her jacket and purse. In a rush, she looked apologetically at Nathan and mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ again before dropping some money on the table and hurrying out of the pub.
CYN WALKED ALL THE way home, even though it was over two kilometres. Thoughts of Fallon flooded her: his musky scent, his dark skin, the way he looked at her with love and lust in his eyes. She felt for the small leather pouch in her purse. The portal and the small circular weight reassured her, even though she was too cowardly to use it. I can’t let him see me this upset. She hurried down the sidewalk.
Her flat was dark when she arrived. Cyn dropped her purse on the kitchen island. With a sigh, she pulled open the fridge and grabbed a Young’s Double Chocolate Stout. Pulling the tab open, she took a drink and let the dark beer pour down her throat. It tasted bitter after days of drinking fine wine and mead, but she finished the can, crumpled it up and fetched another.
Cyn flopped down on her couch, too tired for anything else. All she wanted was to sleep for days. Except the moment she closed her eyes Fallon flooded her mind. Last night, she’d tossed and turned, then finally got out of bed and downed a few shots so she could pass out. She’d woken up panting. Her breath had caught in her throat when she realized Fallon wasn’t next to her.
“I might as well drink myself to sleep again,” she said, her voice echoing in the empty flat. Kicking her legs up on the arm of the sofa, she reached down and dug through her purse for her mobile. She had four voicemails: one from her mum, one from her sis, and two from her agent.
“Hi darling, it’s Mum. I’m so excited you’re back. Felicity told me you’d be coming home soon—you’ll have to tell me all about your trip. And Lillian has some interesting news for you, I’ve told her to give you a ring. Love you, darling girl.”
“Cyn, it’s Lillian. You’d better have a bloody good reason for being gone for so long. Mum and I have been waiting to hear from you. Let’s have drinks tonight, at seven. Text me, okay?”
“Good afternoon, Cyn. It’s Patrick. You need to get in touch with me about the ModCloth shoot. I need to make sure you’re committed because I’m really going out on a limb for you, and not hearing from you makes me concerned you’re not really...”
Cyn’s eyes closed while her agent droned on. Clicking her mobile off, she tossed it on the floor and snuggled down further into the cushions. I’m so sleepy. She yawned until her jaw cracked.
She shifted restlessly, drifting in and out of sleep. One nightmare featured her old agent, the creep who tried to feel her up. When she went to a photo shoot, she found Maelíosa filling her role. “She’s a better model,” Cyn’s dream-agent explained. “People love to watch her.”
Another dream starred her and Fallon racing across the grass together. He’d transformed into a stallion, and she was riding on his back. Extremely erotic pleasure surged through her from the motions of riding as they flew across the open field. Afterward, Fallon shifted into his human form and held her close.
“It’s all right, love. It’s going to be all right,” dream Fallon said.
Oh, how she wanted to believe that.
Chapter Ten
Fallon strode across the great hall. A sudden pain in his chest made him jerk to a stop and clutch the front of his tunic. Groaning, he kneaded his skin, hoping to make it stop. The pain was so sharp he could barely breathe. Fallon screwed his eyelids closed, breaking out into a sweat as his chest was racked with agony. His stallion reared on his hind legs, spooked by the unexpected pain.
Then, as swiftly as it started, it was over. Fallon slowly straightened his posture. The pain had reduced him to a hunched figure. He breathed hard, grateful for the fresh air flooding his lungs. His stallion pranced, tossing his head and shaking his mane. We are going to die from a broken heart. He briefly closed his eyes. But that’s ridiculous, it’s a silly story. Púca don’t really die from heartbreak... do they? It was just a childish tale parents had told their children to illustrate mating traditions.
Fallon decided to lie down for a while. The pain was a heavy shock—it was like being stabbed, or suffocated. He’d always thought the story of púca dying from having their hearts broken was an old wives’ tale, something the healer made up in order to promote togetherness and companionship within the community. But the pain was unlike anything Fallon had ever experienced. He wasn’t sure he would survive.
At least she’s happy. A smile flitted across his face. He couldn’t stop imagining Cyn. The way she swung her hips and danced around the room when she was in a good mood. Her gorgeous, dazzling smile. How she said his name when he was deep inside of her. Fallon’s stallion whinnied. We want her back. But if she’s happy, we will accept that. Fallon wished she’d change her mind. Still, he couldn’t shake the sense of happiness whenever he remembered their time together.
Most aren’t lucky enough to find one great love in their lifetime. And yet I found love twice. After his first wife died, Fallon never thought he’d love again. For years, even looking at Darcy was too painful. She reminded him intensely of his first mate, and he couldn’t shake an unreasonable resentment toward his wife for leaving him to raise children on his own. But of course he knew it was no one’s fault. Darcy was the perfect daughter, it had really warmed his heart to see how well she and Cyn hit it off. He was extremely blessed to
have found Cyn. He wouldn’t ruin the second great love of his life by demanding her to stay. Then he really would be a sorry, miserable excuse like so many other mates.
When Fallon reached the top of the staircase, another intense bolt of pain shot through his chest. He doubled over again, fumbling at his tunic as agony spread through his limbs. Desperately, Fallon tried to suck in a breath, but the pain was too intense. He gasped and choked.
“Fallon...” He heard a voice call faintly. “Fallon!”
Fallon straightened as the pain passed, feeling weary. His heart was thudding. Even though the attack had only lasted a few minutes, it felt like an eternity. He opened his eyes to find Felicity standing in front of him. His daughter-in-law gaped, worry etched on her delicate features.
“I’m fine. Don’t look so scared. Stallions are built to last.”
“Like bloody hell,” she said sternly. “You’re not fine.”
Apparently, his humorous remark wasn’t covering the lie. “I’ll be all right. What is it?”
“I’ve seen Cyn off. But I daresay she’d come straight back if she knew what was going on. This is quite serious, Fallon. You shouldn’t ignore it,” Felicity said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“I won’t have her worried. You know that.”
“Please tell her, Fallon. Niall bound me to secrecy, and I can’t be the one to tell her anyway because it’s not my place. It’s your choice not to tell her the truth, and I respect your wishes, but we both know it’s not right. And it’s not what she’d want. Please... It’s the only way to save your own life.” Felicity twisted her hands in front of her.
Fallon placed a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t make her choose me if it’s only out of obligation.”
“This is bloody daft!” Felicity shouted, and shoved his hand away. “If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d break my word right now and go tell her. I can’t believe you’re doing this. Damn you and your nobility. You’re too stubborn for your own good. I married into a family full of hard-headed stallions.”
Fallon stared at her, shocked at her hormonal outburst. A chuckle rumbled in his throat, turning into full-throated laughter. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the ceiling, shaking with mirth. Felicity gaped.
“What? There’s absolutely nothing funny about this!”
Fallon grinned. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
She blushed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just frustrating.”
“I know, lass. Now help me to bed and get on with ye.”
Felicity slung Fallon’s arm around her shoulder and helped him up to his bedchamber and into bed.
“You really ought to tell her, you know,” Felicity said.
He shook his head, adamant. “I need for her to be happy. It would kill me to see her heartbroken and miserable.”
Felicity was standing in the doorway of his chamber, glaring like she was ready to throttle him. She really was an excellent match for his son. “But it might kill you anyway.”
“Aye, it may. But I’m not going to force her into something she doesn’t want. And our clan would never accept someone who wasn’t willing and brave enough to take her rightful place as their queen.”
Felicity sighed and turned away. He could have sworn she muttered something that sounded like ‘stubborn arse’ on her way out.
FELICITY RAN DOWN THE hallway. Fuck. She wouldn’t give in to the hormones already wreaking havoc on her body, and she refused to cry. But she had to do something. She loved Cyn and wanted her to be happy, but not at the expense of her father-in-law’s life. She’d warned Cyn that someday she’d find herself in a situation she wouldn’t be able to talk her way out of. I hate being right. But she has to know what’s going on. Someone needs to tell her.
“Ouch.” Felicity bumped into a figure at the end of the hallway, stumbling backward and almost tripping.
Maelíosa stood there, brushing off her arms. “Where’s the fire?”
“I’m sorry. There’s an emergency,” Felicity said.
She looked unmoved, as usual. “What’s going on?”
“Your father is very ill. Cyn left, and he’s not doing well. He’s in a great deal of pain. I helped him into bed.”
Maelíosa’s face darkened. “I thought something like this would happen. That selfish shrew went home, and it’s going to kill my father.”
“Cyn didn’t know that when she left, and he bloody refuses to tell her. I can’t cross over and warn her because I’m pregnant. The healer said that púca births are hard enough, let alone human/púca births. I wasn’t even supposed to be able to have a baby. So I’m stuck here under her watch and there’s not a damn thing I can do.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and Felicity wiped it away with the back of her hand. “I feel so helpless right now.”
Maelíosa stared at Felicity’s belly, her mouth agape. “That is a lot.”
“It’s ridiculous that Fallon won’t tell her and I can’t cross over. We have to do something.”
“Do you think if she knew, she would come back?” Maelíosa asked, her eyes flashing. “She seemed to be a self-absorbed slut.”
Felicity stared her down. “She’s not. You didn’t get to know her. You never even gave her a chance. If Cyn knew he was in mortal danger, she would return. I promise.”
Maelíosa sighed, rolling her eyes. “Fine. You’re right, maybe I didn’t give her a chance, but it doesn’t matter now. I agree with my father. You don’t understand our customs. She’s got to pick this life. She has to want it. No one will accept her as our queen if she’s been forced to stay, or only does it out of guilt. And believe me, if Fallon told her there would have been a whole lot of guilt and not much else.”
“She has to come back,” Felicity said, tearing up. Since when had she been so emotional? These pregnancy hormones were kicking her ass.
“That’s a choice she has to come to on her own,” Maelíosa said, turning away.
Felicity stood in the hallway as Maelíosa retreated. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something even worse was going to happen. Frowning, she went to search for Niall. She needed his arms wrapped around her.
Chapter Eleven
Cyn had missed her sister so much, she realised as she laughed at Lillian’s animated romantic melodrama.
“It was a bloody mess,” Lillian concluded, thudding her beer glass against the sticky wooden countertop of the bar. Some ale slopped over the edge and dripped down the glass.
“I bet,” Cyn said, taking a long pull on her own glass.
The ale washed down her throat and into her stomach, making her full and slightly tipsy. She and Lillian had been sitting at a pub for over an hour, catching up. Mostly, Lillian was telling her about a date she’d had with her boyfriend, Victor. They’d only been together for a short while, and she was complaining about him acting odd on their date. Poor bloke was nervous as hell, and Lillian couldn’t figure out why. It had made their entire evening awkward. Secretly, she tired of hearing about Lillian and Victor’s madly-in-love bullshite drama, but it seemed so much safer than letting Fallon slip into her thoughts.
“He was weird afterward, too,” Lillian said. “He kept fidgeting with his hands in his pockets, trying to say something, and then I’d say ‘what’ and he’d shake his head and say ‘nothing’... Mum thinks he’s about to propose.”
Cyn’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. Do you want to marry him?”
“Yes,” Lillian said, blushing. “We’ve only been together for a short time, but things are so good, it seems like, why wait? D’you know what I mean?”
“Of course.”
Cyn was lying. She couldn’t comprehend dating someone and suddenly wanting to get married. But then again, she could barely comprehend someone sticking around after the first few shags.
“What does Mum think? She thinks it’s too soon, right?”
Lillian pulled a face. “It’s not like that. If things work like this, why should we wait? Mum seems hap
py about it, but then again she could be desperate for grandkids.”
“But if you love him, why not give it some time? What’s the big hurry?” Cyn asked, slurring a bit. She set down her glass and motioned at the bartender for another refill.
Lillian smiled. “Try and be happy for me, won’t you? Maybe I’m the marrying type. We used to play brides when we were kids. When did you change your mind about it?”
Cyn waved a hand dismissively, but didn’t answer. No need to share her cynicism with her sister.
Lillian changed the subject. “So what new blokes have tumbled in and out of your life since we last talked? Did you have a good holiday?”
“It was nice,” Cyn said, downing another swallow of ale. “Not a lot of variety, though.”
She forced herself to grimace. She’d fallen in love with the place, and the people, and walked away from a man who she wouldn’t mind waking up next to every damn day.
“So you did get a shag, then?”
Cyn flushed at the image of Fallon gently licking between her legs which flooded into her brain from out of nowhere. She fanned herself with one of the menus, straightening on her stool.
“I did,” she said.
Lillian raised an eyebrow at her sister, clearly interested. “Want to tell me about it? You know Victor’s the only one I’ve ever been with. You have to tell me. I live through you, y’know.”
Her sister had managed to keep her virginity firmly intact until after she’d graduated university. Unless Lillian had kept a drawer stocked full of battery-operated boyfriends, Cyn didn’t know how she’d held out until Victor.
“He was older than me. And he’s bloody dishy. Nice tan, dark hair, dark eyes.”
“He sounds sexy,” Lillian said, taking a drink. “What’s his name?”
A lump formed in her throat. “Fallon... Fallon O’Leary.”