by Jayne Castel
This is your own fault, she chided herself. You’ve already turned into a bitter shrew, without any man’s help.
She needed to talk to him, to convince him to let her stay.
Hea moved away from the trees, circling around the edge of the revelers. She imagined Bridei had returned and was somewhere among them. But she did not see him. It took a full circle of the glen before she admitted to herself that he had left the revelry … and when she walked over to the line of horses and found Croí Cróga missing, she knew it to be true.
Hea glanced about, her throat constricting. What have I done?
She had acted out of fear, but in the end had pushed away the thing she wanted most. Not only that, but she had hurt the man she loved—the only man she would ever love.
It was then that she spotted the couple, seated a few yards away at the edge of the glen. Under the sheltering boughs of a birch sat Rinan and Una. He sat with his back against the trunk, while she perched upon his lap, her arms entwined about his neck. They kissed passionately.
Hea’s vision blurred. Even Rinan had managed to forge a new life here. Unlike her, the warrior had shed the old hates and bitterness of the past, whereas she had carried them with her.
I care not who your father is. I only want you.
Panic swept over her. Bridei did not care that Ecgfrith had sired her … he knew the truth and still wanted her. She had been blinded by her own fears, yet it was not too late—she had to find him and undo the mess she had made.
Hea stumbled over to her pony, where it was dozing under a tall beech. Hands trembling, she tightened the girth to the saddle and untied the pony from the tree. Then she led it away, around the edge of the glen, and onto the forest path that led north-west.
As soon as she was out of sight, Hea swung up onto the pony’s back and urged it into a brisk trot. Fortunately it was a clear night and the hoary light of the moon illuminated her path.
Behind her, the sounds of the celebration soon dimmed and the quietness of the woodland surrounded her. As she rode, Hea attempted to marshal her thoughts. It took all her courage to go after Bridei, for he had truly been angry when they had parted earlier. However, the alternative was too lonely to contemplate.
If he rejected her, it would hurt—but to carry the responsibility for ruining both their lives would be worse.
Lost in thought, Hea hardly noticed the fork in the forest path approaching. It was only when she rode by the path heading south-west that she drew the pony to a halt. She had assumed that Bridei would ride back to Dundurn … but had he?
Perhaps he had ridden to The Falls of Culloch instead?
She remembered his words, that day they had visited the falls. This is where I come when I need to be alone, to think.
Making a decision, Hea turned her mount onto the south-west fork, and urged it into a canter.
Chapter Thirty-three
You are Mine
It had been a mistake to come up here.
Alone with only the thundering falls for company, Bridei’s thoughts spiraled. He glared into the darkness and raked a hand through his damp hair. He had been a fool, a love-sick dolt, and paid the price.
Humiliation.
He wished he had not taken Ciara’s advice, had not borne his soul for Hea to rip to shreds. His whole life he had kept that part of him hidden from others—even those he trusted like Heolstor never saw his insecurities, his fears. A warrior did show his weaknesses, but he had been willing to let Hea see what was in his heart, to convince her his feelings were real.
She had thrown them back in his face.
The cool mist from the falls rose up around him in an enveloping shroud. Usually this place brought him solace, but tonight under the frosted light of the moon, he just felt lonely.
Why did you send her away?
The words had been out before he had realized what he was saying. The need to lash out at her, hurt her, had been too strong. He knew Hea loved living in Dundurn; he saw it on her face every day. Here she had a sense of belonging she had never found at Bebbanburg.
She did not want him, and that was bitter gall to swallow, but he did not want to punish her for that. Tomorrow, he would tell her so. Tomorrow he would try not to make a fool of himself once more.
Lost in thought, his knees drawn up under his chin, he stared at the glowing column of water a few yards away.
Hea really was his one weakness—but he would need to find a way to master it.
He did not hear the horse’s approach at first; the roar of the falls obliterated most of the night’s noises. It was only when he caught the sound of hooves upon gravel that he stiffened, his right hand going to the hilt of his sword.
Even out here, in this remote spot, it was unwise to let your guard down.
Bridei rose to his feet, and—hand still upon the hilt of his sword—stalked across the large flat rock to where a silhouette loomed out of the darkness.
A stocky pony with a small figure perched on its back appeared.
Bridei halted, his gaze narrowing. Even at this distance, he recognized her.
Hea.
He watched her dismount from her pony and walk up the slope toward him. She stepped up onto the flat rock on which he stood. The moonlight bathed her, making her look like a fairy maid as she approached. Her long, unbound hair spilled over her shoulders, and her hips swayed as she walked.
Bridei’s mouth went dry. Even angry and humiliated, he still wanted her. Wanted her with a force that scared him. How would he ever get over this woman?
She halted a few feet away from him. Her face was solemn, although those expressive green eyes were cast into shadow. “I went looking for you,” she greeted him softly. “I thought you might be here.”
Bridei’s mouth twisted. “And you were right … congratulations.” Her could hear the sarcasm in his voice, knew how bitter he sounded, but right now he did not care. “What do you want?”
A heartbeat of silence stretched between them, before she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. “You.”
Bridei watched her, his gut clenching. “What’s this? A new game now?”
She shook her head, taking a hesitant step toward him. “It’s no game … I want to apologize … to explain.”
He folded his arms across his chest, his frown deepening. “Go on.”
He watched her nervously wet her lips. His chill welcome was unnerving her, yet he did not relent. He was not letting his shield down again—not without a good reason.
“I’ve loved you since I was a girl,” she began softly. “I was devastated the day Ecgfrith banished you. Mōder told me to forget you, to find myself a local man and start a family, but instead I clung to your memory. When you returned to Bebbanburg I imagined it was a dream—but I soon realized we could never be together … that one night was all we’d ever have.”
She broke off there, her chest rising and falling as if she struggled to get the words out. “I told myself it was for the best … but I couldn’t forget you. And then when Ecgfrith told me that I was his daughter, I was furious—at him for treating my mother so callously, and at her for throwing her life away on such a selfish man.”
Hea paused, watching him steadily. “I promised myself I’d never do that, and then when I saw you again, I convinced myself that I’d set out on the same path of self-destruction as my mother.” She let out a shaky breath and raked a hand through her hair. “I’ve ruined things, Bridei, and I’m sorry.”
Bridei watched her, not sure what to make of the tale she had just told him. “Your mind was playing tricks on you,” he said after a pause. “You are not your mother, and I am not Ecgfrith. Had you removed that veil of prejudice from your eyes you would have seen that.”
“I do now.” The words were spoken softly, with much sadness. “I love you … and not as I did as a girl. I love the man you’ve become: your strength, your sense of justice, your brave heart. I want you, body and soul. I’d do anything to undo the things I sai
d … but I understand if it’s too late.” Her voice faltered. “Is it?”
Bridei did not reply. He merely stared at her, his gaze shadowed.
What was he thinking? Was he still angry with her?
Silence stretched out, and despair settled over Hea. He did not need to say a word—she could see it was too late. She had wounded his pride too deeply.
Hea stepped back from him and attempted a brittle smile, although inside she was crumbling. “I shouldn’t have come … I’ll leave you alone.”
She turned and hurried toward the edge of the stone.
Bridei was on her before she had taken two paces. He moved so fast that she let out a cry of shock. One moment she had been struggling not to cry, the next he hauled her into his arms.
His mouth slanted across hers, hard and hungry. When he pulled back from the kiss, leaving Hea gasping for breath in his arms, the look on his face made her body dissolve against him. It was an expression of such desperate want that needed no further explanation.
“You’re not leaving,” he growled. “You are mine.”
And with that, he kissed her again. Hea responded, giving herself up to the wild heat that pulsed up from the pit of her belly. Despair sloughed off her, replaced with a hunger that only he could sate.
Their clothes came off. Bridei, still only clad in leather breeches and boots, stripped naked in moments, whereas Hea’s fingers fumbled with the laces of her vest, the buckle holding up her plaid skirt. He helped her, pushing down her skirt so that it billowed at her feet, and freeing her breasts from the leather bodice, so that he could feast on them.
Hea groaned, her legs going weak beneath her as she watched him cup her breasts, drawing each swollen nipple into his mouth. How she had missed this—how her body ached for more.
They sank down onto the rock. Despite that night had fallen, the stone was still warm against Hea’s skin after a hot day. Bridei pinned her down upon the stone, spreading her limbs as he moved over her, his hot mouth leaving a trail of fire down her body.
Hea let out another moan and arched herself up toward him. She reached up, her fingers clutching for him, but he ducked just out of reach. “Soon,” he murmured, “but let me touch you first.”
Hea’s eyes fluttered shut, and she gave herself up to sensation; the pleasure his fingers, lips and tongue brought her as he moved down her body. Finally, when she was a trembling wreck, he moved back over her, lowering his body against hers.
Their mouths fused once more, and Hea’s fingers tangled in the softness of his hair, before trailing down the strong column of his back to his buttocks. When her hands journeyed to his shaft, Bridei inhaled sharply.
Hea smiled, enjoying the thrill of power while she stroked the long, hard length of him, her fingers circling the swollen, slick head.
He groaned, his body trembling from restraint as she continued to touch him in slow, deliberate strokes. Hea gave a soft laugh at his reaction, but it abruptly choked off when he took hold of her right leg, lifted it high and entered her in one deep, long thrust.
The sensation of him stretching her, filling her to the core made Hea gasp. But she had barely a moment to recover before he began to move inside her, taking her in slow, deliberate strokes.
Her cries echoed across the falls, mingling with the roar of the water. Exquisite ripples of pleasure pulsed out from her lower belly, steadily growing in intensity. This was even better than she remembered. Back in Bebbanburg, she had been a maid the first time Bridei had taken her. Lovemaking had been a delight but also a discovery. Months later, her body had now fully awakened.
The pleasure crested, so intense now that Hea could hardly bear it. She tried to push at the wall of his chest, tried to get him to stop a moment so she could regain her equilibrium, but Bridei was too far gone.
He plunged into her—and pushed Hea over the brink. She lost all sense of time and place, her body nothing more than a wet, pulsing core of pleasure. The world spun, and she was vaguely aware of Bridei’s hoarse cry echoing through the night. Then, his body went rigid and he spent himself inside her.
The ragged sound of their breathing mingled with the hiss and rumble of the cascade behind them. The falls threw out a soft mist that caressed their heated, tangled limbs.
Still struggling to regain his breath, Bridei propped himself onto one elbow and gazed down at Hea. Never had she looked as lovely as at this moment: her soft pale limbs bathed in moonlight, her tangled hair fanned out across the stone. She stared up at him, her full lips slightly parted.
Bridei reached out—stroking her from the neck, down the valley between her lush breasts, to the pale curve of her belly. His gaze shifted to the nest of damp, auburn curls beneath, and he felt himself harden. He was not done sating himself with this woman … he had only just begun.
Hea let out a sigh. He glanced back up and stilled, realizing that her cheeks were wet.
Bridei’s chest constricted. “Why are you weeping?”
She favored him with a watery smile. “Because I’m a woman … and because I’m happy.”
His breathing stilled. “Is this real?” he asked, reaching up to brush away her tears. “Are you really mine?”
She nodded. “Yes … I always have been.”
He smiled. “Then we have some lost years to make up for, lovely Hea.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Lovers and Dreams
Dawn peeked over the eastern edge of the cliffs surrounding The Falls of Culloch. The first rays of sun crept across the rock, filtering over the man and woman who lay sleeping upon one of the large flat stones near the waterfall.
Hea felt the sunlight kiss her naked skin, and her eyes flickered open.
A moment later, a sense of wellbeing, unlike any she had ever known, flowed over her. A smile spread across her face, and she sat up, gazing down at the man who still lay sleeping beside her.
Bridei mac Beli was a joy to gaze upon. In repose, his handsome face was beautiful, the sensual lines of his mouth relaxed. His long dark lashes rested like butterfly wings against his cheeks. Her gaze traveled down the long, muscular length of his body, taking in the blue-inked swirls and circles that decorated the left side of his body and arm. She would never tire of looking upon him.
Perhaps feeling the weight of her stare, Bridei’s eyes opened. Their gazes met and held for a few moments, before that beautiful mouth of his spread into a smile.
“Sleep well?”
She smiled back. “Hardly at all—and you?”
He sat up, running a hand over his face. “We’ll have all the time in the world to sleep when we return to Dundurn.”
Hea snorted. “You do maybe. Modwen will have a list of jobs for me to help her with when we get back.”
Bridei laughed, rising to his feet with fluid grace. “You can say no to her occasionally, you know. Modwen managed just fine for years without your help. Don’t let her boss you around.”
He reached down, took Hea’s hand, and pulled her gently to her feet. Standing together, bathed in the soft dawn light, Bridei gazed down at her a moment. Then he reached out and brushed a curl that had fallen in her eyes. “If I could, I would stop time at this moment,” he murmured. “Here at the falls—just you and me.”
Hea smiled up at him. “What … and give up Dundurn, your kingship?”
His expression was serious as he looked down at her. “Aye—without you it means nothing. I want you at my side, Hea. Will you be my queen?”
Hea’s breath caught. She did not think it was possible to be any happier than this—any more so and her chest would explode. All her old fears dissolved like wood smoke on a windy day. She had misjudged Bridei all those months ago, or perhaps he had changed. Whatever the reason, he now wanted her to be his consort, his life’s companion.
Hea reached up, her finger tracing the line of his stubbled jaw. “Aye, I will.”
They rode back into the glen to find men fighting.
Hea’s gaze swept the gently-
sloping green expanse. She took in the still smoking remains of the great fire, and the crowds of people—many of whom were still breaking their fast with the remains of last night’s feast—before her gaze came to rest upon a cluster of warriors on the southern side of the glen.
Rough, angry voices shattered the morning’s peace. From a distance it looked as if two men were fighting off four others. Hea’s breathing hitched when she caught sight of the two men who had been backed into a corner: one red-headed, the other blond.
Heolstor and Rinan.
Heolstor, face flushed, wore a murderous expression. Meanwhile, Rinan had a black-eye and was bleeding from the nose as he stared his aggressors down.
Ahead of Hea, Bridei urged Croí Cróga into a canter and rode toward the men. “What’s happening here?” he shouted.
The men ignored their leader. Instead, they closed in on Heolstor and Rinan, fists raised.
“Lower your fists,” Heolstor growled, “or I’ll make you regret it.”
One of them spat on the ground. “Angle dog!”
“The first moment you get the chance to side with your kind, you do … even the likes of him,” another added.
“You’re drunk, Longus,” Heolstor snarled back. “You’re always an aggressive little shit when you’ve had too much mead.”
The man he had just insulted, bellowed and lunged forward. Heolstor, who was bigger, stronger—and more sober—met him with a punch to the eye that sent him sprawling. However, the other men set upon Rinan, fists flying. The slave was ready for them, felling the first with a kick to the groin, and the second with a punch to the nose. Yet the third, a wiry, dark-haired man covered head-to-foot in blue tattoos, leaped upon Rinan’s back and tried to gouge his eyes out.