Epilogue
The island of Ailsa Creag, February 1209
Standing on the cliff, Desmond watched the ocean waves roll and crash along the rocky shore. Inhaling the salty brine of the air, he glanced upward. Sea birds flew gracefully overhead, and he watched their flight. Closing his eyes, he let the sun’s light warm his face and enjoyed the blissful solitude of the sky, sea, and land.
Upon arriving, they as well as the entire island were thrown into an upheaval of preparations for another wedding ceremony. Bran had called together all the high council members the day they had returned. He presented Desmond to those gathered and recounted the story of their meeting in detail—from the rescue of Ailsa to defending his daughter’s honor by striking down the enemy, Muir. Even the story of Finn and his aid was accounted for inside the hall.
The Great Hall had erupted into a frenzy of shouts and banging of fists. All directed toward the Cameron. Shocked and outraged, they vowed to spread the news of the traitor. From there, Desmond and Finn were charged with greeting everyone on the island before the ceremony. For several days, they traveled with other warriors—sharing meals, and his and Finn’s lineage. When they found out they were kin to the Dragon Knights, they were instantly accepted.
Yet, Desmond’s fears of acceptance truly banished the moment Ailsa took his hand as they both stepped on the polished Stone of Claiming near a cluster of yew, rowan, and pine trees. The druid, Tam, reported to him that Cuchulainn brought the sacred stone to the island as a gift to the people for their loyalty to the Fianna.
Therefore, on a crisp early morn, the entire clan of Ailsa Creag surrounded Desmond and his beloved as they once again recited their vows to each other. Desmond swore the ground shook and the air warmed afterward. But Ailsa assured him it was only his love for her and the people.
Desmond’s heart and soul were now one with hers.
“So this is where ye are hiding, husband,” chided Ailsa, her voice carried high on the breeze.
Glancing to his right, he smiled. Her hair had come undone from its braid, and she fought to control the loose strands as the wind continued to snatch them away. She walked steadily toward him, jumping over a boulder, and kicking away stones from her path.
His heart swelled. Ailsa was his sunlight and moonlight—warrior and wife. By the Gods how he loved her.
Opening his arms wide, he waited for her to step into his embrace. She snuggled against his chest. “Ye are so warm. I missed ye upon awakening. Dinnae tell me ye have grown weary of seeing my face.”
Desmond lifted her chin up with his finger. “Never. I wished to greet the new dawn in solitude.”
She arched a brow. “No regrets?”
He chuckled and trailed his tongue over her bottom lip. “Was not four times enough for ye last evening?”
She drew in a shaky breath. “Ye ken that is not my meaning. I meant—”
This time, he nuzzled her neck. “Aye, I do. And to answer your question…nae. Ye are my light, mo ghrá. I love ye with all my heart and soul.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she searched his face. “I ken ye like to wander the hills. Do ye like the peace?”
“Aye, ye understand me well. This land is a beauty, and ye already ken my love for the sea. I will never tire of the view.”
Her hands came down and she played with the strings on his tunic and splayed her fingers through the hair on his chest. “Good. Though, I do ken how demanding Father and my people can be. Ye shall be sharing stories of your adventures with the Dragon Knights and tales from your home in Navan until your dying days.”
Desmond grimaced. “And now I have become a bard?”
Ailsa smacked playfully at him. “The stories are important to our people. Ye must give your account, so others will pass along the tales.”
“Agreed. But for now, I have nae wish to speak about others.”
“Are ye not overseeing the training for Finn? I thought to find ye in the lists.”
His hands cupped her bottom. “Your father is with him this morn. I shall attend to him later.”
Her tongue darted out, teasing Desmond and she pressed against him. “What is it ye wish to do then?”
Desmond’s cock swelled in invitation, and he watched her eyes darken with longing. “Ye see that tree over yonder?”
“Aye.” Her voice husky with desire. “Do ye have plans for doing more wicked things to my body?”
He nipped the soft skin below her ear. “What do ye crave, wife?”
Ailsa’s face turned a rosy shade. “I find I can never get enough of ye.”
Desmond rocked gently against her. “’Tis the same with me, mo ghrá. Let me love your body here. Feel the land, sun, and wind on our joined bodies.”
“Oh, how I love ye, my husband, my champion.”
Lifting her into his arms, Desmond captured her sigh with a passionate kiss, and the elements embraced the lovers.