“Are you truly marrying someone like her?” she eventually asked, barely above a whisper.
His lips pursed as he reluctantly nodded. “It’s expected. My family is the only one to have never made union with the other Travelers. It’s,” he sighed, “It’s time, I guess.”
“That hardly seems fair,” Ashlynn replied.
“No worse than your father forcing you to marry Brigacos.” He gently brushed his thumb over her skin where the cut had been only moments ago and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “There, all better.”
With their eyes still locked and her face nestled in the palm of Cian’s hand, he slowly leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek. The touch sent goose bumps racing over the surface of her body, hardening her nipples and turning her core to liquid fire. Ashlynn sunk into the kiss, giving herself over to him if just for a moment. To her surprise, Cian’s lips never pulled away. Instead, they moved down to her jaw, trailing kisses along the sensitive curve, making his way toward her mouth. Each tender press of his lips deepened Ashlynn’s desire and when his warm mouth found hers again, she threw both arms around his neck and pulled him close.
They moved as one, standing, wrapped in one another. Their hands flew over each other as they stumbled over furniture and fallen belongings, making their way steadily toward the bed.
When Cian’s legs bumped up against the mattress, stopping them short, Ashlynn pushed at his chest and took a step back to grip the edges of her thin dress, pulling it up over her head in one swift movement. Her breath caught as she watched him watch her, and pure feminine power made her bold. “Make love to me, Cian. Before you send me away.” Her eyes filmed over at the thought.
Cian balanced on the edge of the bed, looking up at her with eyes that darkened as he watched her with passion brimming so close to the surface she could feel it buzz around him. He opened his arms and enveloped her, this time with a desperate passion that shook her to the core.
His muscles bunched and suddenly she was being lifted, twisted, tossed on the bed as if she weighed nothing. Ashlynn heard her own gasp and felt heat pool between her legs in an unfamiliar desperate yearning. She gasped in shallow breaths as Cian, keeping his eyes locked on her, removed his t-shirt, revealing lean muscles that she ached to run her fingers over. When he crawled onto the bed, locking her in a cage with his body, she welcomed him.
The sensation of his bare skin against hers made Ashlynn’s head swim. She wrapped a leg around Cian’s waist, tugging him closer to her. With an instinctual slow roll of her hips, she elicited a deep moan from his chest that made her grin wildly. His hands smoothed the sensitive skin of her thigh, making her squirm, until his fingers traced the edge of her breast and she stopped breathing.
Then his fingers were replaced by his mouth and Ashlynn’s body convulsed, pushing up into his mouth, begging for more without the words. She cried out and threw her head back as his tongue circled her tender peak, sucking it in as his hands kneaded roughly. She writhed, unseeing, until his mouth left her breasts and he sat back to look down at her.
She opened her eyes, feeling feline for some reason, and stared up at him through heavy lids. Her body lay in a pool of sensation, languid yet desperate for something… more. She shifted, pushing herself up, never taking her eyes of his. She wanted to touch, to taste, to give him what he’d just given her.
But when Ashlynn’s shaky fingers touched Cian’s chest, he pulled away, ripping his body from atop hers. The sudden change left her breathless and confused. She grabbed the sheet, covering herself, and climbed to her knees to stare at Cian as he muttered to himself and ran his shaking fingers through his wavy locks.
Even though her heart thundered in her chest, Ashlynn found her voice. “What’s the matter?” she dared ask.
“I shouldn’t,” he replied, looking at her with anguish and frustration in his gaze. “I can’t.”
Ashlynn’s mind raced for an answer. “Well, which is it? Either you cannot make love to me, or you won’t...”
Cian pulled his hands from his hair and turned to her, pain smeared across his beautiful face. “If I have sex with you right now, just weeks before I’m to marry another woman, what kind of man would that make me?”
Ashlynn chewed her lip, fighting for the right thing to say. She was an innocent, or she had been, and knew very little of what went on between man and woman. So, she searched her heart and spoke truthfully, climbing from the bed to stand before him. “I think…what you should be asking yourself is this. If you were to make love to me right here, right now, and then marry Serena…would you be betraying her?” Ashlynn reached out and lovingly cupped his cheek in her hand. “Or yourself?”
Cian’s chest heaved rapidly, and his eyes bore into hers. He knew she was right. Ashlynn could see the acceptance mixed with torment in his gaze.
“You do not have to marry that woman,” she whispered. “You can find another way to unite the clans.” Ashlynn grinned and then shrugged. “I did.”
Cian stared at her, his eyes an endless blue that changed from bright to deep azure as she watched. Emotions played on his face, changing from frustration, to rage, to hope, to…
Cian sucked in a deep breath and took Ashlynn in his arms with a new fierceness that set her on fire. His hands were all over her, igniting flames everywhere they touched, and she lost herself in sensation. She was flying, reaching for an explosion of color and sound when he slipped inside, filling her, and the entire world melted away.
Chapter Eight
Cian accepted the handshake and gripped his future father-in-law’s hand firmly. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it. And, again, apologies for yesterday. I was…indisposed when Serena came to fetch me.”
The man brushed him off. “Nonsense. We shouldn’t have dropped in like we did. And, come now, Cian, call me Tomas.” Serena’s father pumped Cian’s hand vigorously, obviously completely unaware of what his daughter had witnessed the day before. “We’ll be united as one family in just a few short weeks. There’s no need for formality anymore.”
Cian swallowed the dangerously large lump in his throat as his stomach curdled. They would be family. Serena would be his wife. Where would Ashlynn fit into all this?
He excused himself from Tomas’ office, using the incantation he’d been told in secrecy, under the threat of dismemberment, an old yet effective threat, to enter the catacombs beneath the Cineal manor. He walked the halls of the house, much longer and winding than the one he lived in. Admiring the grandeur of the gaudy heirlooms handed down through the generations and how they filled each room he walked past.
After walking for several minutes, Cian came to the entrance of the Cineal’s archives; a large set of double doors made of a darkened wood and held shut by giant iron hardware. He waved a hand over the keyless lock and recited the incantation Tomas had recited just moments earlier. Sesam deschide-te. And then laughed to himself at its meaning. The beastly doors slowly swung open and Cian shook his head with a grin.
“Clever old man.”
He descended the wide set of stone stairs, so much different than the ones in his house. Yet, so much the same. An ancient passage made of stone that stood between the world and their family’s secrets. Their history. Everything they were and ever will be.
The Cineals organized their archives by era, and then broken down again by year which made Cian’s search easier than expected. He combed through the endless boxes and chests, plucking out anything that seemed remotely close to the old Kavanaugh clan and the time of their reign. But the ancient texts and objects only told him simple details. He needed more.
After an hour of searching, Cian stumbled across a large wooden chest, clad in hand forged hardware. It sat near the back corner, between two rows of bookcases, and boasted a signa on the front. A giant ‘K’ nestled in a circlet of thorns.
Cian’s eyebrow quirked in victory. “Bingo.”
He crouched down and inspected the lock, hoping it wasn’t sealed with m
agic. With a quick brush of his fingers, he was relieved to find it wasn’t and tugged at the rusty giant that kept the chest contained. It fell to the floor with a loud and gritty clunk before Cian slowly opened the box.
Musty smells of old paper and linens mixed with dried herbs wafted up across his nose as he carefully assessed the items inside. A red velvet cloak, some jeweled hair clips, a couple of leather journals. All objects seeming to belong to one person. And, as he rummaged to the bottom and found a strangely shaped stone with a trinity knot carved across its surface, Cian realized who the chest once belonged to.
“Come back to beg my forgiveness?” a voice sounded from behind. It raked over Cian’s skin like knives.
“You should know better than to expect so much of me,” he replied as he stood to meet her.
Serena sauntered across the stone floor toward Cian, the sheen of her leather pants catching the torchlight. Her hand lifted to flip the long blonde waves over one shoulder and she sneered slyly at him.
“Well, I expect something,” she said and shrugged. “Perhaps an explanation.”
“Of?” Cian quirked an eyebrow.
“Who that woman was,” Serena said. “And why she was sleeping in your room.”
“Ashlynn is a friend,” he replied. No, she was more than that, he thought to himself. But he wouldn’t dignify Serena with the details. “I’m trying to help her get back home.”
“Oh?” She seemed genuinely interested now. “She’s not staying?”
Cian sighed. “As much as I’d like her to stay, she has a family to get back to.”
Serena clucked her tongue as she circled him. “You’re not exactly restoring my faith in our marriage.”
Cian chortled. “As if you had any faith at all, Serena. Jesus. Neither of us truly wants this. We’re just doing as we’re told.”
Her grimace assured him he was right.
Cian closed the lid on the trunk after safely pocketing the stone, and then turned back to her. “Look, I’m going to need this for a couple of days. Let your father know I’ll bring it back.”
“What do you need with a three-hundred-year-old trunk?” she asked.
“It’s going to help me get Ashlynn home again.” He bent down and picked it up with ease.
She stepped aside mockingly. “Then who am I to stand in your way?”
Cian sighed and rolled his eyes as he stepped by her. She had no idea just how much she really was in his way. Serena was the only thing standing between him and happiness. The only thing preventing him from pursuing whatever it was that he felt for Ashlynn. Part of him didn’t want to show the princess the stone for fear that she’d leave sooner than he was ready for. But, then again, did it even matter? Would he really stand up to their parents and fight for his happiness?
As he ascended the stairs with the old trunk in his hands, Cian realized the answer to that question. Hidden deep down in his gut. Yes, he would. He’d fight for Ashlynn. But only if the choice to stay was hers and hers alone.
***
Cian found Ashlynn sprawled over his bed, nose in some old book, as her copper hair pooled around her propped-up face. Her long, pale legs swung back and forth playfully as she read. He set the trunk down on the floor with a hard thwomp and she looked up from the book, a smile spread side across her face.
“What’s this?” she asked as she stood to meet him
Cian ran a sweaty hand through his hair and let out a huff of air. “Uh, I think…I think it’s yours.”
She regarded him curiously and then stepped closer, running her fingers over the surface of the old chest. It took a moment, but Cian caught a flash of recognition in her eyes.
“It is,” she whispered. “This sat at the foot of my bed. It looks…” she swallowed hard, “It looks so old.”
Cian moved closer to her side, wanting to soak in as much of Ashlynn as he could before she left him forever. The smell of earth and fresh air radiated from her pores and he relished in the aroma.
“Well, it’s more than three centuries old,” he reminded her.
Ashlynn’s lips pursed as she nodded. “Right, of course.”
He watched as she slowly lifted the creaky lid and peered inside. One by one, Ashlynn retrieved the objects and admired each one with a new pair of eyes. The cloak, folded neatly on the table, sat underneath a pile of trinkets and small objects. When she got to the small stack of leather journals, her mouth turned up in a crinkle.
“My diaries,” she exclaimed with delight and flashed her emerald eyes at Cian. “I wrote in them every day. As did Gwen.” She flipped through each one and stopped at the bottom of the pile, turning it over in her hands. “In fact, this one is hers.”
“Really?” Cian replied and stole a peek over her shoulder.
Ashlynn opened the book and turned to a random page before reading out loud. “December 1717. It’s been one year to the day since my marriage to Brigacos. An endeavor I graciously accepted in my sister’s absence. I had no earthly idea of what to expect being married to such a man. But the year has proven to bring me happiness each and every day. Brigacos, although a rough exterior, is a kind and gentle beast who takes my love and gives it back ten-fold. I look forward to our future and that of the child I carry inside of me. My only regret is that Ashlynn is not here to share in my happiness. But, then again, if she were, it’d be her in my place. What a bittersweet feeling it is to miss my sister but also be grateful of her disappearance. My heart aches to see her again, but I truly hope she’s happy wherever she is. I started this journal in memory of Ashlynn and hope to fill it with the life she has mistakenly given me. I shall not take a single day for granted. Sincerely, Gwendolynn of Clan Domhnaill.”
Cian’s throat ran dry as he watched Ashlynn close the journal and set it aside, her gaze long lost in some thought. He wondered then, did she regret leaving her family? Would she have done things differently? Part of him wanted to grab the princess and beg her to stay. To be with him. But he’d never impose that guilt upon her.
“Do you miss her?” he asked.
Her eyes flickered back to the present and she looked to him and shrugged. “Gwen? Hardly. I saw her just the other day.” Her head hung in sadness. “But she must have spent years missing me. Wondering what may have happened. I wonder…did she think I…”
She couldn’t finish, and Cian immediately put the pieces together. “Killed yourself?”
Ashlynn nodded.
He gently brushed the back of his hand down her bare arm. The weight of the stone in his pocket heavy against his side. “W-well, when you go back, you can reassure her that you didn’t.”
She guffawed. “If I find a way back.” Her arm stretched out and fanned the room, motioning to the endless piles of books and boxes. “We’ve been searching for days. Fedelm’s magic mustn’t be recorded. Otherwise we would have found something by now, wouldn’t we?”
Cian swallowed hard and nervous, fighting with himself. “Do you remember the ritual you recited?”
Ashlynn shrugged. “Of course. But what good is that without the stone she gave me?”
Shakily, Cian reached into his sweater pocket and pulled out the trinity stone. Ashlynn’s eyes widened in disbelief as he placed it in her open palms.
“Wherever did you find this?” she asked him.
“In your trunk,” he told her. “Serena showed up, so I slipped it in my pocket.”
Ashlynn turned her gaze the pile of belongings with a thoughtful look and then back to the trunk. “Gwen must have gathered these things from my quarters after I didn’t come back.” Her fingers brushed the red cloak. “This is what I wore earlier that very day.”
Cian willed himself to accept that these would be their last moments together. Ashlynn could be gone as soon as the day ends, and he’ll be left to face the pre-planned life awaiting him. With great difficulty, he smiled. “What else do you need for the ritual?”
Ashlynn appeared startled. “Do you wish me to go?”
“I want you to do whatever it is you want,” he assured her. But every fiber of his being screamed for her to stay. How could the universe give him such a gift? To plop the perfect person right in his path and then force him to give her back?
Ashlynn turned the stone over and over in her hand as she cast a thoughtful gaze out the window. The setting sun made her copper hair glow like fire and he yearned to reach out and touch it.
“I have the means to return now,” she began. “But I have some questions for the Seer. You said there’s one in every generation of travelers?”
Cian could hardly hold back the delighted grin that spread across his face. “Uh, yes. Our current Seer is Faith. She’s an elder. Lives on an acreage just outside of town.”
Ashlynn chuckled.
“What?” he asked.
“Faith. In my time it was another word for the ancient Seer. Funny it would be the very name of yours.”
Cian shrugged nonchalantly, just happy that Ashlynn had decided to stay another while. “Funny things have a way of happening.”
“Will you bring me to her?” she asked, slightly urgent.
“Of course,” Cian replied. “Right now?”
“Yes, the sooner the better. I cannot make a sound decision without the answers only a Seer could give me.”
Cian grabbed his leather jacket that had been slung over a chair and glanced at Ashlynn’s heavy cloak. “It’s chilly tonight. You’ll need a jacket. I can grab something of my mother’s if you like.”
“No need.” Ashlynn grinned and plucked the red cloak from the table, shaking it out like a blanket. Cian watched as sparks of green and copper magic crackled over its surface and the cloak suddenly became a red trench coat. She slipped it on with ease, as if the garment was made just for her.
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