WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye (44 page)

“All this magical power is new to me.” Aine raked her fingers through her hair. “How about laying your hands on the amulet?”

Cerne gritted his teeth. He did this all on a hunch? How he wished Maeve and Bel were

here. With an exasperated huff, he placed his hands on the stone but it remained cool beneath his fingertips. He should’ve known better. “It’s not working.”

“Concentrate.” Aine knelt down next to him. She closed her eyes and placed her hands on top of his. “Imagine your body’s warmth filling your hands, pouring into the amulet. We need to purge Korrigan’s negative energy.”

Cerne nodded and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the stone, imagining the warmth of his hands filling it. Either he had some strong imagination, or the stone was actually heating up.

“It’s getting warmer.”

Taking her hands from his, Aine nodded. “Remove your hands from the stone. It should be warm enough.”

“How do you know all this, if magic is new to you?” Cerne glanced up at Aine while he continued to stroke Rhiannon’s hair.

“It isn’t just magic, it’s White Faerie magic.”

Cerne craned his head toward the sound of Rowan Windstorm’s booming voice. “White Faerie magic?” he asked.

“Maeve suspects Aine’s mother was an outcast White Faerie.” Rowan gazed down at Cerne whose arms were wrapped around Rhiannon and gasped. “Look. The amulet is glowing.” Cerne followed Rowan’s gaze to Rhiannon’s neck. The malachite of the amulet glowed bright green and light swirled in the rubies surrounding it. “What do we do now?” he urged.

Aine shuffled on her knees. “Let’s pray to the Mother Goddess.” Praying did sound good, but Rhiannon needed more than just a chant to the Goddess. She needed him. She needed to know.

“Feel free to pray,” Cerne said in a resonant voice. “I need to do something else. Something I’ve been putting off for far too long.”

Aine nodded and rose to her feet. A knowing smile crept across her face as she padded to Rowan’s side. “Do whatever you need to do. We’ll gladly pray—for both of you.”

“Thank you.” Cerne glanced down at the amulet that still glowed on Rhiannon’s bosom.

Thank the Gods he hadn’t imagined it. He lowered his mouth and brushed his lips against hers, remembering a tale she told him about a princess who was brought back from the afterlife with a kiss. He pressed his lips to hers and prayed.

Listening to the words, Rowan and Aine chanted as he sighed. Rhiannon remained still in

his arms. What was he to do? “Please, Rhiannon, don’t leave me. I need you.” He took a deep breath. He knew what he had to say. “I love you.”

Her eyelids fluttered, but did not open and she stirred in his arms.

Cerne pulled her face closer to his. “
Mo cridhe
, do you hear me? I love you!” He hadn’t meant to shout but he wanted everyone to hear. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—hide from his emotions anymore. He put his lips to hers and placed gentle kisses all over them. “I love you.
Trobhad,
mo cridhe
.”
Come back to me.
He prayed silently to the Gods, hoping she would.

~*~*~

The burst of energy consumed her like a raging inferno. Pain, albeit short-lived, stung her in every recess of her body. She’d picked a wonderful time to be impetuous. She’d let her parents and her people down—but most importantly she’d failed Cerne.
Korrigan defeated me with my
own amulet. I’m a failure.
Then again, she’d saved Cerne’s life, hadn’t she? Rhiannon would live—or in this case, she supposed—die with it.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she breathed, as a breeze lifted her toward the clouds.
Man, this
afterlife crap doesn’t waste any time, does it?
She shook her head, opening her eyes and glaring at the soft light dancing in the distance. “Can’t you give me just a few more minutes before sending me on my way to wherever it is you go when you die?” She sucked in a deep sigh, and fluffed the pillow of clouds until they seemed puffy enough for her. She laid her head down, expecting to find a warm cottony cloud beneath her. Instead of the cloud’s fluffy goodness, her head met with a thick, heavily mailed chest. Rhiannon blinked, willing her eyes open. He seemed like a ghost—distant, yet close enough to touch. His hands were protective and gentle as he held her close.

“I love you.” The whisper danced in her ears. Leave it to a man to whisper those words—

after you got zapped to the afterlife. It was the afterlife, she assumed. From the description of The Outer Realm, floating on fluffy clouds or resting on hard-muscled chests didn’t constitute eternal torture.

“Rhee, dear. Look up.”

Rhiannon blinked. “Mom?” Well, who she thought was her mom.

Paula Kinsley stood in the distance with a smile sweeping across her face. Her grayish-

blonde hair framed her angelic face. “We’re sorry, Rhee.” James Kinsley appeared next to her, his grayish-brown hair receding as it had for most human men of his age. “Please forgive us and go back to your people.” Rhiannon shrugged and shook her head. “It’s not your fault. You had no idea.”

“The old lady who left you on our doorstep made us promise to never tell anyone. She said they would kill us if anyone found out.”

“She could’ve given me to the most horrible parents around, but she gave me to you. And you loved me like your own. There’s nothing to forgive.”

“We love you no matter what, please remember.” James grabbed Paula’s hand.

“I’ll always love you for being there for me.”

James and Paula leaned over her and placed kisses on her cheek. “Thank you, princess,” James whispered in her ear.”
Princess?
She remembered her childhood nickname and shivered.

Had they known?

“Did you know?” she asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

“We’ve always loved you,” Paula replied, as the images of her and James began to waver.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but a loud shout rent through the air.

“
Mo cridhe
, do you hear me? I love you!”

The Kinsleys faded into the mists surrounding them and Rhiannon reached up to grab for them, realizing she was falling backwards, down a dark tunnel away from the light.

Damn. She’s a real bitch to torture me so.

Hitting what she thought was ground, she was jarred awake. Her eyes seemed to be glued shut as she struggled to open them. The stench of death, fire and destruction assailed her nose.

Wonderful. The Outer Realm smelled just like a bloody battle—and something else. Forest and spices, male—Cerne.

Then she felt the brush of his lips against hers, not harsh but tender and gentle. “I love you.

Trobhad, mo cridhe
.” His murmur against her lips sent a buzzing of energy washing through her.

Rhiannon murmured back, wrapping her arms around his neck. She could stay like this forever if that was what the Gods wanted. She moved her lips against his, gentle at first, but she needed more.

Cerne pulled his lips from hers. “Open your eyes,
mo cridhe
. Please come back to me.” Strong hands gripped her shoulders and shook her, forceful but gentle. “Please, I love you.”

Rhiannon’s eyes flickered open and she found herself gazing up into Cerne’s beautiful jade eyes. She lifted a finger to his cheek and traced down the firm lines of his jaw and chin.

“Took you long enough,” she said breathily.

Cerne’s eyebrow arched questioningly. “Pardon?”

“It took you long enough to say what was in your heart.” Rhiannon stretched her legs and gave Cerne a playful thwap on his mailed chest. “Thank you for breaking my fall, by the way.”

“Any time, my love.” Cerne wrapped his arms around her waist and helped her sit up. He turned her to face him, his gaze firm. “Why in the deities did you do that?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to see what ten thousand watts of energy felt like?” Rhiannon pushed a lock of Cerne’s hair from his brow, deciding it was time to become serious again.

“How did you bring me back?”

“With a little magical intervention. Look up.”

Rhiannon craned her neck up. Aine stood next to General Windsong peering over them. A smile curved Aine lips, yet sadness still swirled within her eyes.

Rhiannon rubbed her eyes, taking in the sight of General Windstorm wrapping his arm around Aine’s shoulders. Aine took in a deep breath and laid her head on his broad chest.

Windstorm, with his dark blond hair and warrior’s physique and Aine, with her raven curls and petite figure. Complete opposites, yet similar in many ways. They complemented each other.

“They make a charming couple, don’t they?” Cerne said, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her closer and lifted her chin, lowering his mouth to her neck.

Rhiannon nodded. It was more than that, though. The connection between the two was purer and more innocent. Cerne’s warm breath against her neck shoved all thoughts to the back of her mind. She wrapped her arms around him and brushed her armored chest against his. Gods, how she loved the way he made her feel. Hearing him say he loved her filled her with joy. She hoped she hadn’t imagined it.

“Cerne?” she asked, tracing her finger across his cheek. She wanted to hear him say it again.

Maybe she should just get it over and ask him. She gazed up at him, giving him the best puppy-dog eyes she could.

Cerne took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his jade eyes blazing with passion and desire. “Yes, my love?”

“I love you.”

Cerne lowered his lips to her ear, tracing light breaths along her earlobe. “I love you too,
mo
cridhe
. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it earlier. I was a fool.” Rhiannon’s heart soared. Was she back floating on that cloud in limbo? Smiling, she pulled his mouth to hers. “Better late than never, my love.”

~*~*~

Cerne smiled. one less weight lifted from his chest. He was free. Free from his fears, free from his emotions—free to love. “Yes, I’m just sorry I had to be so stubborn and wait so long to tell you.”

“I wasn’t so compliant either, if you remember.” Rhiannon playfully pinched his nose, and pushed herself up. She turned to him and offered her hand. “Rise, my consort-to-be—my love.” Cerne clasped his hand in hers and allowed her to help him to his feet. He turned to Rowan and Aine and bowed. “Thank you for believing in me and my love.”

“Your actions showed your love. Sometimes it needs to be heard,” Aine said with a slight smile that belied the sorrow in her eyes.

It took a brave person to defy your sister, and an even braver one to destroy her.” Cerne strode to her and took her in a warm embrace. “I haven’t any doubt my brother would be proud of you were he here.”

“Or so I’ve been told. I can only hope. I wasn’t always this good.” She turned to Rhiannon.

“Look what I did to your friend.”

Rhiannon took her side next to Cerne. “You told me she was fine.” Cerne leaned in and brushed his lips against Rhiannon’s neck, sucking in the scent of her, reveling in the glory, knowing he would continue to enjoy the heady aroma of lavender and vanilla he’d come to love. “What friend?”

“Lara, my best friend. She was the only one who really clicked with me.” Aine sucked in a breath. “She’s an enchanted human with magical abilities. That’s why she wasn’t harmed.”

“So are you saying she’s a witch or something?” Rhiannon’s eyebrow rose quizzically.

Aine shrugged. “A witch is only one type of those enchanted. They are self-taught. Your friend is stronger than that. She has many gifts.”

This Lara sounded fascinating. Relief knowing Rhiannon had such a good friend on Earth flooded Cerne. An idea crossed his mind. “I’d love to meet her.” Rhiannon’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Of course.” Cerne pulled her firmly against him. “Anyone who’s taken care of the woman I love deserves to hear my thanks.” And he wanted to make Rhiannon happy. He would gladly go to all the ends of her Earth to give her that joy. “After all, you did mention you wanted to return.”

“Can we do that?” Rhiannon asked. “I mean, after Beltane, won’t we have wings?” Aine nodded. “But with a simple glamour spell, you can mask your wings. And I’m sure your friend is beside herself with worry. I would be if one of my friends was missing.” Cerne opened his mouth to speak, but two balls of bright light, one a light azure blue and the other a vibrant green floated the mists. The right flank must be secure, Cerne decided, watching Maeve and Belenus materialize before them.

Maeve brushed off her skirts and allowed Belenus her arm. They strode toward Cerne and Rhiannon. Holding a glowing orb in her hand, Maeve’s eyes remained grim.

“Your Highness.” She curtseyed before Rhiannon and held out the orb.

Rhiannon rolled her eyes. “All this protocol stuff kills me.” With a shake of her head, she continued, “My name is Rhiannon, remember? I’m assuming this is a reply from the elder council?”

“That it is, Rhiannon.” Maeve folded Rhiannon’s fingers around the orb. “I wish it were better news.”

Cerne looked over Rhiannon’s shoulder while she opened the messenger orb. Radan hadn’t found Onora in time. He found her basket, upturned on the vacant plains. The charred earth near the basket was consistent with Korrigan’s work. With a soft sigh, Rhiannon deactivated the orb and rested her head on Cerne’s shoulder. He pulled her closer, tracing his finger along her cheek.

“Things happen for a reason, my love,” he whispered soothingly in her ear. He knew how much she’d cared for Onora and wished things could be different. “She’s done some horrible things, regardless of being misguided. Those deeds cannot go without punishment.” Rhiannon shuddered against him. “I know. I wanted my instincts to be wrong for once.” Brushing a tear from her cheek, she gazed up at Maeve. “How are my parents?”

“The Queen and king are doing well. Your mother has made an almost complete recovery.

She should be as good as new by Beltane.” Maeve flashed a reassuring smile.

Cerne exhaled a deep sigh of relief. “Most excellent news, indeed.” He pressed a gentle kiss on Rhiannon’s cheek and caught another tear before it could fall. “Beltane is near. There will be no tears, my love.”

“Hearing you call me your love makes all my tears worth it.” Cerne took her lips with his.