“Liadan.” Still half dazed, he sought words.
“Um?” She kissed the side of his face and his ear, through his hair.
“I am meant to protect ye. To guard and defend ye. In your brother’s place. Not—not—”
“And do ye no’ defend me? Wi’ your very body.”
“Not what Aodh intended.”
“Aodh is dead. So many are dead—we are no’.”
Indeed, they were not. They had risen together on one set of wings, strong wings that had bound them together.
Yet it could not be.
“I am commanded to serve ye.”
“Then serve me.” She stirred beneath him, moved with a wisdom beyond her experience, a woman’s wisdom. He settled once more between her thighs.
“Liadan, I must arise.”
“Arise.” She breathed it in his ear, and he did.
“If we are discovered, ’twill mean terrible disgrace. Ruination.”
“How might we be discovered? No one is here save, perhaps, a few ghosts.”
Ghosts.
“Should my mam return—”
“She will not yet. And if she did, can ye imagine she would betray us?”
She would be shocked. She would not betray him, though.
“Ardahl, I do no’ care what the druids say. What anyone else says. We have been given this—this wondrous thing. Given it out o’ a world of darkness. Can we deny it?”
He could not.
“Please,” she breathed in his ear, and guided his mouth to her breast.
*
The rain endedlate the next morning. Ardahl had drowsed for a time in Liadan’s arms before gathering his wits and enough of his intentions to leave her. He’d washed outside, the taste of her still on his tongue, before heading off with his weapons for the training field.
He would go through his day, perform his duties, and meet his obligations while pretending—pretending nothing had changed.
Yet everything had. He was not the man he’d been when he lay down with Liadan last evening. Indeed, he might appear the same, seek to behave the same.
He was a different man, indeed. He now carried a part of Liadan—a large and significant part—inside him. She filled him, clung to him, whispered to him. No longer alone, he must harbor her like a precious secret.
No one could know.
Physically, last night had been like nothing he’d ever experienced. From the moment she’d stripped away his wet clothing and touched him, he’d been claimed entirely. And the moment he’d entered her, he’d claimed her also—flesh no longer just flesh, but something that made one of them part of the other.
Who would imagine coupling could be like that? A thing of spirit as much as flesh and blood.
Not to say the physical part had not mattered. It had. Her breasts were a soft haven, her thighs a place of sweet welcome.She was perfection. But his desire for her reached beyond that, so strong it terrified him.
