She took his large hands and placed them on the tiny foal, over the widest portion of its chest, right behind its forelegs. “Gentle but firm. Remember, this is a fragile baby. What you’re doing is compressing her heart to achieve blood flow.”
He nodded, looking at her through the tendrils of black hair that had fallen into his face when he’d dropped to his knees. Never could she ever remember seeing a man so handsome. She pushed on his hands, showing him the exact amount of pressure she wanted. “Like this.”
“Aye. I have it.”
As he compressed, she blew hard into the little one’s nose.
After what felt like forever, the baby moved, feebly kicking its legs.
Lexi caught hold of Jeros’s wrist to stop him, and they both sat there, tensed beyond belief, watching the much smaller twin take in a few breaths on its own.
“She lives,” Jeros said in an awe-filled whisper.
“Yes, but she is weak, and so is Mama. Too weak to care for twins.” Desperation hit Lexi like a brick wall. “We can’t leave them, but I don’t know what else I can do to help them out here in the middle of nowhere. I need my barn. I need my stuff.”
“They need their stallion.” Jeros gently lifted the resuscitated foal and placed it closer to the mother so she might accept it as well. “Here is yer other wee one, blessed Lunaria. Call to yer mate. He can heal all of ye now. Call to him, great one.”
“What are you telling her?” A chill swept across Lexi, leaving her covered in gooseflesh. The only unicorn lore she knew was from an Irish song that said the mythical beasts had missed their chance to get on Noah’s ark, and that’s why there weren’t unicorns anymore.
“Her mate can heal her,” Jeros said. “Call yer mate,” he urged the unicorn mare once again. “Afore it be too late to save yerself and yer precious bairns.”
The unicorn lifted her head, and the tip of her horn took on an eerie glow so blindingly bright that Lexi had to turn away to shield her eyes.
“He comes.” Jeros took hold of Lexi’s hand, pulled her closer, and locked eyes with her. “Dinna be surprised if it is the mighty Pegasus himself. Alpha of all the unicorns. He is the only one known to sire twins, even though the last pair were born many an age ago. That is why I called her Lunaria. She is his eternal mate.”
“Pegasus, the winged horse from Greek mythology?” Lexi struggled to understand and believe. What or where had this strange rabbit hole come from that she had fallen into?
Jeros shook his head. “Mortals made up that tale. Pegasus has no wings, but his mighty leaps make it seem as if he has taken flight.”
The pale blue light illuminating the clearing brightened even more. The air seemed to glisten, as if filled with the dust of precious metals and jewels. Then a mighty unicorn, even larger and more magnificent than the mare, his long silver horn aglow, stepped into the clearing.
“He’s twice the size of a Clydesdale,” Lexi whispered. She felt as though she had been granted an audience with either royalty or an angel—or both.
The mare knickered softly and stretched her neck, angling her head toward her mate.
As silently as nightfall, Pegasus stepped forward and touched his horn to hers. A golden aura surrounded the two of them and the twin foals, brightening then dimming with a heartbeat all its own. Their horns still touching, the mare rose from the ground, fully rejuvenated. The weakest foal, the tiny mare, pranced forward and nuzzled her father’s muscular foreleg. The baby stallion did the same, then stomped and kicked as if determined to make his father proud.
Hot tears streamed down Lexi’s cheeks. She couldn’t help it. Her heart overflowed with the beauty of the unicorn family. With a rumbling grumble, Pegasus approached her with his head bowed, then ever so gently, he touched the tip of his horn to her forehead. The purest joy and gratitude she had ever known surged through her and made her tears flow harder. The mighty unicorn stepped back, bowed his head again, then gathered his family and disappeared with them as though they had been a lovely illusion in the clearing.
Even though she was overjoyed that the family was reunited and healthy, unrealistic disappointment at their leaving crashed through her. “Oh, no. They’re gone,” she whispered. “I’m going to miss them.”
“Ye will see them again,” Jeros said just as softly.
Oh, how she prayed he was right. “I hope so. They are so beautiful.”
“Pegasus gave his oath to protect ye since ye saved his family.” Jeros gently touched her forehead in the same spot the unicorn had touched with his horn. “Ye bear his star now. An honor bestowed upon verra few.”
“His star?” She pulled out her phone, tapped on the camera, and hit the arrows as if about to take a selfie. Jeros had not exaggerated. A faint, elongated star, like the blaze on a horse’s forehead, gleamed in the center of her brow as if she had drawn it with the favorite iridescent markers of her childhood. While the last thing she needed was something that would draw attention to her face, a warm surge of gratitude and pride filled her. “I am honored and glad I was able to help. They are absolutely magnificent. It would be such a sorrow to lose them.”
“Aye, lass, they are magnificent, but not as magnificent as yerself. Even though ye thought unicorns a myth, ye nay hesitated to do whatever it took to help them.”
She lowered the phone that would soon become a useless paperweight as soon as its battery died. “I couldn’t let them die. The mare was so afraid and wanted to see her babies so badly.”
He stared at her for a long moment, but this time, he wasn’t ogling her scars. “Ye feel what they feel. The animals?”
She shrugged. “I guess so. I never really thought about it because that’s the way I’ve always been. I understand animals a lot better than humans.” An unexplainable sense of loss and the very real chill from the damp, mossy ground seeped up into her bones and made her shiver. She hurried to don her shirt and roll down her sleeves while looking around for the jacket she had tossed aside. She needed to get home. Now. This man…or elf…no…not an elf but a fairy made her feel—what? Uneasy? Lonely? Like maybe he was the piece of the puzzle she’d been missing all this time? She shook her head and yanked on her jacket. “It’s getting later. How far and in which direction is the road now?” She’d lost track in her dash to find the animal in distress, and the trees’ canopy of leaves was too thick to see the moon or stars. When he didn’t answer, she turned to find him standing there, still staring at her. “Did you hear me?”
He blinked as if waking from a daydream he was loath to leave behind. “Aye, lass,” he said, sounding almost sad. “I heard ye.” He lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes, slowly turning in a circle, then he pointed to the right. “The road is that way, but much farther than before. I canna imagine ye wandering that far off course to end up at Sevenrest.”
