Page 163 of A Courage of the Chosen

I summon breakfast, and we sit close together as we share our first meal as a married couple. Fruit, eggs, bacon, a delicious coffee that makes us both groan, and fresh apple juice that hits the spot.

“So, wife, what would you like to do today?” Callahan asks, wiping away the bit of milk foam on my upper lip.

I pause, taking another sip of the coffee that I’d like a permanent stream of, and consider what I genuinely want to do with the few hours we have to ourselves.

“Nothing,” I tell him. “I want to keep those doors shut, and spend the day reading and bathing, and learning things about each other that we haven’t had the chance to.”

A soft smile breaks across his face.

“I want to spend today being a proper husband and wife, before everything else comes back for us.”

“Sounds perfect, mo sholas.”

“Still not telling me what that means?”

“I’ll think about it,” he winks, and that’s the end of that.

◆◆◆

If I could design the perfect day, these hours together would be pretty close to what that looks like. Callahan admitted that he didn’t know when he last took time just to do nothing. He’s spent the last century looking over his shoulder, waiting for the Dorche to catch up with them, and I imagine self-care days were few and far between.

After breakfast, we did get fully dressed, and went down to the library so I could choose a book. Finneus greeted us warmly as we entered, standing to give me a hug and offering Callahan a handshake in congratulations. We thanked him for being the one to marry us, and then headed into the stacks of my favorite section—romance.

It took me far longer than usual to select a title, since Callahan insisted on pinning me against the shelves to make out every few minutes. By the time we exited, my hair was mussed, my cheeks were more than a little heated, and my underwear was drenched. I couldn’t look Finneus in the eyes as we strode past him hand in hand.

My mouth was permanently etched upward like an infatuated teenager, and honestly that’s how I feel. The key difference being I’m nearly twenty-six years old, madly in love, and newly married to a man I’m not quite sure I deserve.

Back in our rooms, Callahan summoned a sketch pad and pencils from who-knows-where, and we settled into one of the deep sofas with my feet in his lap. For the next couple of hours we both got lost, me in the story of a fire-breathing princess forced to marry her worst enemy, and Callahan in the drawing that makes his brows pucker, and the tip of his tongue poke out the side of his mouth.

The flickering of the fire, the scratch of Callahan’s pencils, and the crinkle of pages were the perfect backdrop for an afternoon that filled my cup in a way I’d been lacking.

Yes, I’ve gotten physical rest, but there hasn’t been much opportunity to pause emotionally.

Restlessness eventually found Callahan, and he put his sketches aside to tug me into his lap, where he made love to me on the sofa. Slow and tender and filled with his words of adoration.

We came quickly, and then snuggled together beneath a blanket as we told each other about our childhoods. Callahan had lots of questions about the human world, and he told me what his earliest years were like.

Up until he was twenty-five and his light manifested, he was somewhat shielded from the realities of war. He trained to fight, but he was being primed to take over from his uncle as Lord of Morven, not lead a rebellion.

He told me how Brodie found them, and how he and Rachel were gone for each other as soon as they met. I belly-laughed when Cal said he punched Brodie in the face after he discovered that his best friend had been sleeping with his twin sister, and ate up every little insight into the Seelie beside me.

They say still waters run deep, and Callahan is a man of great depth. I was greedy to learn everything about him. Each new layer I peeled back only made the hunger more insatiable. He was exactly the same for me, and by the time evening drew around, my heart was full and my cheeks hurt.

Callahan drew us a bath after a delicious dinner of roasted lamb in a mint sauce, with mashed potatoes and root vegetables, and we took turns to wash and worship the other.

He hoisted me onto the lip of the tub where he buried his head between my thighs until I came all over his tongue, and I repaid the favor, bringing him to a shuddering release down the back of my throat.

Now, tucked in bed and tracing the tips of my fingers over his spectacular abs as I lay on his chest, I long for more days like this, where nothing else exists but me and him.

The soaring feeling in my chest is grounded by the thought that, even if we survive the impending battles, I might not be able to withstand the magic that lives within me.

“Where have you gone?” Callahan asks quietly.

I shake my head, desperate not to ruin today by dragging him down with those fears too.

He tips my chin up, giving me the full force of his stormy glare. “No more hiding.”

I swallow before replying. “I was thinking that I want more days like this, but I don’t know what being part Dorche will mean for my future. If I’ll turn into a Brollachan or not.”