In the heat of wild abandon, she felt it, a tiny spark of life. They had created something wonderful on this glorious afternoon, an everyday magic that men and women had been making for centuries. A new life.
Alaunus lifted his head and propped his weight on his elbows. Still, his weight crushed her deeper into the soft pile of blossoms beneath them, but she cared little. She loved him even more in that moment as he cradled her head in one hand.
“We are one in body, Aveta. Why will you not agree to become one in spirit as well?”
“I cannot,” she whispered, lifting a hand to his cheek.
His beautiful amber and green eyes moved over her face, searching for answers to questions he did not voice. Except one. “Why?”
“You know why,” she replied.
“No,” he argued quietly. “I know why you think it cannot be, but I have told you many times that my family will accept you. They will have no other choice.”
“And the villagers?” she asked. “The same ones who shun me when I come into town only to sneak out here when they have need of healing and guidance? If you marry me, they will never allow you to lead them.”
“Then I will not lead,” he answered simply.
“Your family expects you to marry Rhiannon.”
“I will not do that either.”
“You know it is not that simple,” she argued.
“It is.”
“Your father will not allow you to marry me. He has already been in negotiation with Rhiannon’s father,” Aveta stated.
Alaunus rolled to the side, tucking her against his body with her head resting on his shoulder. “How can I be with Rhiannon when I will be married to you?”
“Fin,” she said, using the short name his mother called him since childhood. Only those closest to him were allowed to use it. “I do not want to put myself between you and your family.”
He sat up and looked down at her, a dark expression on his face. Aveta was reminded that his ancestors were once fierce warriors, ruling lands far larger than the small village where they lived.
“Do you lie when you say you love me?” he asked.
Feeling cool despite the sun, Aveta reached for her dress.
Alaunus grasped the material and refused to release it. “Do not hide from me, Aveta. I demand your honesty.”
“You are not in a position to demand anything from me,” she argued.
“Do you lie when you say you love me?” he repeated, ignoring her efforts to take the dress from his hand.
“No! I do not lie!”
Alaunus wrapped his fingers around her wrist, drawing her closer. “I love you as well, Aveta.”
It was the first time he had spoken those words to her and Aveta’s heart soared. Though she understood his devotion to her through their connection, she often wondered if he would ever be able to bring himself to state them aloud.
But love was not always enough.
“Your family—”
He shook his head sharply, cupping the back of her head and tilting it back so he could kiss her. “When we are bound, you will be my family. You and the children we create together, goddess willing.”
Aveta remembered the spark of life she felt mere moments before. When he discovered the babe, she would not be able to deny him. If he chose, he could drag her before his father, the current chieftain, and demand her hand.
“I am afraid to lose my freedom again,” she admitted, her voice small and ashamed. Though her husband had been dead for a long while now, Aveta remembered the trapped feeling. As much as she loved Alaunus, his family would expect her to change, to behave in certain ways. So would he. Then the slow suffocation of her spirit would begin.
