Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) (21 page)

Much was expected of her in the months to come. Requirements which had been set for her had to be carried out very soon; most involved Jacob and Micah. Strangers by circumstance who knew nothing about whom they were, where they came from. Nothing whatsoever about her. Everything had been left up to her. She alone must reveal many secrets to the lads before anything could be done. Vows would have to be made, blood spilled. She knew what she wanted, had left it all in the land of her heart; she knew, as well, that she would follow the path of her birthright, give in to the love she had begun to feel mere days ago; even if it killed her in the end, as before. As always. Her own people were a loving society; she, by nature and an excess of genetics, the most loving of all. Marriage, in a Christian sense, was not required, nor was it looked upon as desirable. It was all but banned. And yet, her father had used such a union as a threat against her, knowing how she felt about her forced relations. The beliefs of her own kin had long been that a person should not be tied down to a single other person. Even her own parents, though averred to each other in an ancient vow of blood, were, and always had been, free to love whomever they wished whenever they wished, though neither ever had, that she had any knowledge of. However the Elders worded it, whether they wished to bleed her dry or not,  Ailill had no wish to avow herself to anyone ever again; that desire had been left behind in the hidden Highlands as well. And yet, unlike any of those she was meant to one day lead, it was required of her.  

Her family encouraged her freedom, in most every aspect, and in the end had been rewarded with an unbelievably gifted, perfectly disciplined and unusually beautiful young woman who knew enough to have never before so unwittingly placed herself into a position which could compromise her virginity, which had always been strictly guarded. Her innocence had its own purpose within the life she was expected to lead. But, her guardians were nowhere now, the saving of herself was a task which she did not mind; she had stopped caring about it; had become careless since leaving her home, since leaving her first true love behind. She, honestly, hadn’t thought about it at all in many long months, there had been no need. And then she met Micah and Jacob. She did not know how to stop herself from giving them both all they would ever desire.

The experience with Micah and Jacob, seemingly innocent in any regard, had been one hell of a slap in the face, given the minuscule amount of her own experience in that particular area. She had had to practically drown herself in order to keep away from their nakedness, their long, lithe bodies, so strong. Even drunk, she had been fully aware of the masculinity of them, the musky scent of their sweat. It had carried over into her dreams. As had the twin kiss. The heat of them within the cool water, the taste of them both...

One hell of a physical awakening.

She had never felt so absolutely unsure of herself.

And she had never, not once in this entire short life, felt so completely, so continually, aware of her own body as in the past weeks. The feeling she had nearly given into, pure unadulterated desire for the dark twins, was one which, though she had experienced something similar before, had never been so strong. Her need, her wish, for Micah, who
was
to be her first, to take her tonight, to do all manner of things to her, to pass her on to his own twin for still more, was an adrenaline rush unlike any she had ever felt before. A purely primal instinct. As natural to her and her own kindred spirits as survival was to mankind. It had surprised her to still be innocent when she awoke, the dream had been so real, yet Micah was nowhere to be found; it had surely been just a dream. Her body ached for him, a hungry, desperate need, grown more insistent with each passing year since her small body had completed the change. It was a veritable call to arms that she could not ignore and yet, she was just not ready for all that opening herself to any man would entail... not ready to be shared.

Despite her promise, she had no choice but to leave, as soon as possible; just as she had no choice but to return again; her fate was predestined, simply out of her hands.

Ailill stopped where she was, at a crossroads both literally and figuratively. Her toes touched the edge of the newer trail, the foliage flattened into the dirt, packed down by constant foot traffic. Her heels rested on the cushion of ferns. Her old life, her childhood, lay back the way she had come; the softness of that path was deceptively misleading; it was the same place she had first seen her future, in the velvet-black eyes of a six year old boy, a small Prince of darkness. Her new life, the sudden shift into adulthood, lay before her. Turning her head, her eyes sought the tiny, nearly invisible tracks of her light tread behind with the keenness of a hunter in the dark, of a being used to walking through the shadows. If she chose, she knew, she could turn about where she was and go back the way she had come, back to the innocence  of childhood. Back to her life before she met the twins. Back to Tiernan? Perhaps. With an inaudible sigh she turned her gaze forward, her body leaning slightly to see up the trail.

She had come back to the forest to choose, her last dream, pointing out the correct path to take, only led her up to this point. It was up to her now. She found that she was unsure of herself once again. An all too common occurrence since returning to her parent's home. Rocking slightly from heel to toe she called up an image of the two tall, long-haired men, as beautiful as any she had ever seen. The brothers were like two halves of one man. So alive...so perfect. They had no idea that even together neither would ever be complete.

Her feet moved of their own accord, stepped over the brink and up the path. Stopping, Ailill replayed the scenes in vivid detail in her mind, every chance she had carefully avoided while with the brothers; her young, ripe body responded, committed to memory the feelings within as she moved on.

The roses, just beginning to blossom, held the same pungency as she remembered from childhood, almost overpowering her as she stepped up to the small pond, Rosewater. Quickly stripping down to bare skin, she dove in, her heated body contracting in the cool water, stiffening luxuriously as her temperature slipped back towards normalcy. Climbing out, her gaze settled upon a forgotten blanket spread out beneath a tree; she did not remember seeing it there tonight. Stepping over to it, she lay down, noting, as she stretched out on her bare back, the sweet/musky smell of the two men within the damp folds of the cloth that instantly wafted up to mingle with the scent of ozone that lay thick in the still air. Had they swam in the pond this morning, before James had made her angry enough to seek escape? Possibly watched, unseen, while she had worked her father's herd shortly after dawn? Had they lain on the blanket to dry? Alone, she noted with relief. Theirs was the only scent her well-tuned nose detected.

Her eyes searched the treetops, looking for the next flash, seeing it almost instantly. The moon was nearly covered now and she jumped slightly, startled by a sudden clap of thunder that rolled overhead, vibrating through the ground beneath her. As she watched, sheet lighting arced across the sky in a spiderweb pattern that burned into her retinas, leaving blood red streaks behind her closed lids, and she called up the image of the brothers once again. Thunder moved closer, the storm nearly over the mountain now, and her pulse quickened in excitement, in fear; once more, her mind added faces to the feelings beginning to pulse deep within. Three faces, nearly the same, though one was turned from her, in silhouette. Another deafening clap of thunder, the vibration of the earth below rolled through her body, making her breath come quick, pulse racing. Her small hands roamed over her full, ripe body; exploring; truly discovering herself for the first time, and she was shocked at her response, appalled that she had used it as a tool, a weapon, when it was capable of so much more. The throbbing deep within kept time with her panting breaths and on the next rolling, vibrating, deafening roar a small scream escaped her as her hips jerked with involuntary paroxysms of ecstasy, making her understand what it must be like for the raven twins, the desire so wrought in their eyes each time either looked upon her. Making her selfishly want them both after all.

The rain washed over her in sheets, chilling her overheated body in a steaming deluge, and Ailill  forced herself to lie still as the large stinging drops beat out a rhythm on the surface of her flesh that echoed the pulsebeat deep within. She had never felt so incredibly erotic; so completely fulfilled. The events of two summers ago had opened her eyes, her mind, despite the overall experience of nearly losing her first love. Her time with Tiernan, before that fateful day, had planted the seed in the primitive recesses of her brain, made it impossible to ignore these two men though she tried, valiantly, to fight it. The storm had awakened her untouched body to its most basic animal instincts, the knowledge of sexual awareness, of desire, and it had, quite literally, rocked her to the core. She could not move for a long while, did not want to, as the pounding of her heart settled back into a normal rhythm and her muscles, drawn taut below the surface of her skin in succor, relaxed into lucidity with the drumming massage of the downpour.

When she felt like herself once again, she stood on shaky legs and slipped back into the pond to bathe, frowning slightly in distaste as she washed away slickness from between her legs. Smiling at the knowledge that the two tall, powerful, beautiful young men could, and would, if she allowed them to, bring her to the same dizzying heights of awareness as the storm had, she slowly slipped beneath the surface.

Two pair of dark blue eyes, thickly fringed with black lashes, watched from the shadows under the overhanging roof of the veranda as Ailill silently stepped out from the dense black of the forest. They had seen her, not believing that she was real when she had vanished into the warm, humid night like a smoky spirit, leaving nothing behind but an eerie feeling of emptiness in the hearts of the two young men. The rain poured over her head in a continuous wave, flattened her long hair so that the delicate shape of her skull became visible beneath; soaking the thin fabric of the thigh length nightgown she wore into transparency, moulding it to the voluptuous curves of her body. A blinding flash of white hot lightning streaked across the sky overhead, burning the image of her nakedness beneath the gown forever into the memories of the two men as she stood fearless below the blaze of the atmosphere, her small, muscular arms stretched out at her sides, face tipped toward the heavens in expectation; a stubborn set to her head and shoulders, as if she were daring the mighty Thor to smite her where she stood. She turned slowly, ignoring the pelting rain, paying homage with a nod to the four airts. Eyes closed, her lips moved in a rhythmic chant, soundless below the continuous rumble of thunder. Her feet, bare and dainty, began to move over the thirsty earth, slowly at first, speeding up as they stepped and kicked in a dance more primal than any either man had ever witnessed before. Lightning arced continually back and forth across the charcoal sky, sparking off the bands of interlaced silver and gold around her ankles and wrists, her neck; her bonds, symbols of quasi-slavery, in a sense, though to whom she was enslaved, neither knew; as if in answer to her call, the otherworldly fires above lit the graceful movements of the true fairy-woman from within.

Drawn by the unusual performance of the beautiful Ailill, dark eyes widened in wonder, unable, unwilling to look away, even to blink, Micah and Jacob both knelt by the railing of the porch, watching. There had been a change in her over the past days; very subtle, but evident. A loosening in her joints, a bold sensuality in the sinuous movements of her lithe, firm body. They watched in fascinated awe and all at once both men knew, on some basic level, that somehow her time in the forest had awakened her and that what they were witnessing was her thanksgiving; her answer to the primitive call of her body.

The frenzied movements of her dance slowed with the storm. The soft patter of drizzle shooed her away, back toward the tree line and she stood still, breathless and dripping, as the moon peeked out once again from behind the clouds, staring across the yard into the wide, gleaming eyes of Micah and Jacob Mac Morna; a slow smile spread across her face, lighting up her elfin features at the unexpected sight of them. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

The Little Death

The ripe, rich scent of dung was almost overpowering after yesterday's heat; it wafted between the outbuildings, through open windows, trailed about the ground like a smelly vine. Micah was pretty sure he smelled better, even after three days wearing the same clothes, but Jacob would soon change that, as long as he could slip into the tiny cabin, retrieve a stack of clean clothes, and slip out again unnoticed.
Ahot shower would be nice
, he mused as he followed the pungent odor, seeking the source, and Ailill.