Chapter Twenty-Three
“Candlelight of hope dwells even in a minuscule speck of sand.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
Gazing at the old map of Glennamore, Conn let out an exasperated breath. For five, long, agonizing days, he battled his next move. Returning to the village and Ivy was not an option. She no longer wanted him. He was a monster in her eyes. But he had no regrets. It was time she knew the truth.
Then, there was the alternative to return to his own world and make his report. Yes, his quest was now complete. Ivy had stepped out of the shadows—grown, blossomed, and embraced her new life.
What direction could he seek? The loom of fate had not been corrected for her ancestor and this bothered him. There was no way to undo her fate unless he regained his status as a Fenian Warrior, traveled back in time, and rescued the lass. An idea he pondered, but knew the council would forbid him from reweaving the loom. In addition, if he tampered with the string, another would be lost to him.
He took a sip of whiskey from the bottle, contemplating all avenues—possibilities to right one path without damaging another. To argue his case before them. If they refused, he could always do what he deemed was right for the humans. Had he not stated before how foolish the Fae council was in their ways? Always sitting in their chambers dictating laws.
You’re not forming any coherent thoughts. They’re a jumbled mess.
His mind was numb from too much thought and clouded with far too much whiskey. All in an effort to deaden what he had been avoiding since he left Glennamore—one aqua-eyed lass with a body that made his blood burn. She opened his heart to love, and he fought every waking moment to seal it shut. Nevertheless, he was helpless to the constant invasion of her image, so he tried to focus on the other situation. Her ancestor.
He failed miserably.
“Ivy, Ivy, Ivy,” he muttered her name repeatedly trying to banish everything about her from his body and mind. To cleanse her essence that had seeped into his skin.
And again, Conn failed.
Her words shattered his heart that night, sending him into a spiraling, bleak existence. This world meant nothing to him anymore. Gone were the joys he felt in this human world. There was nothing left for him here.
“I gave you everything, Ivy Kathleen O’Callaghan. Did you not hear the whispers of my heart to yours?” Raking a hand through his hair, he growled. “Enough!”
Rising slowly, Conn glared at the map. “I shall never love another. If I have to burn my heart from my body, so be it. I’ll request missions to the remotest part of the centuries. Give me a sword and place me inside the deadliest battles.” Flinging the bottle outward, the glass shattered the framed map of Glennamore.
“I dismiss you from my life.”
However, try as he might, Conn was unable to harden his heart, but he gave no care. He would journey for the rest of his life with bitterness and regret. A lesson to be carried until they tossed his ashes upward to the stars.
Storming into his bedroom, he tossed a few items into a backpack. He would return to his own world, give his account, and seek out the Brotherhood. Time to face his own destiny.
Grabbing the keys to his motorcycle off the table, he strode to the door. Glancing once more behind him, he made a vow never to return to Dublin. The place was his beginning and now his ending.
“Let another clean up the messes,” he snapped.
Swiftly opening the door, Conn froze.
A lovely vision in a short-kilted skirt and boots turned around and smiled at him. “Hello, Conn.”
He blinked, fearing the image would fade. “Ivy?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. Can you forgive me for the other night?”
“It’s been five, long nights,” he snapped.
Ivy lifted her chin in defiance. “Yes, but I had a lot to consider. Your announcement was shocking. I had to let everything settle that night. I went to see Sean the next day. He told me where I could find you. Of course arrangements had to be made for the Celtic Knot, and I couldn’t get Nan or Roger to cover until—”
Conn dropped his backpack. He needed to feel her—make sure she was real. He grabbed her around the waist with one hand, crushing her to his chest. “Five agonizing nights and you couldn’t call me?”
She placed a hand on his cheek. “I was afraid—”
“Of me? Was I a monster in your eyes to be feared?”
Shaking her head, Ivy’s voice trembled when she spoke. “You are the most beautiful man on this planet, Conn MacRoich. How could you think—”
He silenced her words with a passionate kiss. A rush of emotions overtook all rational thought. Bitterness, loneliness, emptiness—all replaced with euphoria. His kiss was urgent, demanding, and when his tongue invaded her softness, Ivy’s moan entered and filled his body.
In one swift move, Conn lifted Ivy into his arms and kicked the door closed. Entering his bedroom, he slowly slid her down his body. Pinning her against the wall, he feasted on her lips, neck, and throat. Stripping her free of her blouse, he gazed at the flimsy black material encasing her beautiful breasts. “So beautiful, so real.” Taking his finger, he gently pulled it down, freeing first one and then the other silken globe. His hands roamed over her body, exploring places he feared to never to touch again.
Breaking free, he placed his hands on either side of her on the wall. “Why?” he demanded.
Ivy’s breathing was labored as she placed her hands under his shirt. “Why what?”
Conn withdrew her hands and held them firmly by her sides. “Why did you return? Do you accept me knowing who and what I am?”
She squirmed, nudging against him, and his cock swelled more. “Every detail, Fenian Warrior. I’m looking forward to hearing about your life in the Fae realm, and the history you’ve witnessed. Did you want to hear more?”
He ravished her pout with his lips. “You are mine forever. Do not leave me again,” he ordered, trailing a path of kisses over her face. “I will find you, mo ghrá, always.”
“How I love you, Conn MacRoich.”
His body stilled. Her words slammed into him, strong and loving. “You have given me a treasure.”
Her smile beguiled him. “Stop talking and take me to bed.”
Conn needed no more encouragement. Removing his shirt, boots, and jeans, he tore the bra from her skin and teased his tongue over her pert nipples. Ivy dug her fingers into his scalp, her pleas for more sweeping them both to another realm. He couldn’t get enough of her scent—sweet, heady, and filling him once again.
Grasping her hand, Conn pulled her toward his bed. Cupping her face, he breathed his request against her lips. “Indulge me in a fantasy?”
Ivy arched a seductive brow. “Now I’m intrigued. Will you grant me one?”
“Done.” Conn kept his gaze on hers as his fingers slid under her skirt and finding lace panties blocking his entrance. “Do they match the bra?”
Her eyes mirrored his own lust. “Yes,” she whispered.
He stroked lazy circles over the material, causing her to gasp. “This…this is your fantasy?”
Pinching her most sensitive area, he leaned near her ear. “No, mo ghrá.” Tearing them free from her body, he spun her around to face the bed.
Ivy angled her head to look at him. “Love the skirt and boots?” she coaxed, wiggling free from the lacy material.
“You have no idea.” Bending her over the bed, he lifted her skirt to expose her round, lush bottom. Caressing her soft, ivory skin, Conn fought the urge to take her too swiftly. Unfastening the skirt, he let it slip to the ground. Spreading her legs slightly apart, he gazed over the sight. “Ahh…you present a vision with only your boots on.”
“I do?”
“A feast,” he replied, with each touch, stroke, and kiss. “I have yet to taste every inch of your body.” His finger traced over her tattoo, and he bent down and placed his lips over the area.
Ivy moaned.
“Sensitive spot?”
“Don’t torture me. I need you,” she begged.
Her words undid Conn and taking his cock, he thrust deeply into Ivy’s hot flesh. Exquisite pleasure filled him each time he withdrew and slid back inside her. He watched her hands clutch the furs on his bed, her own desire building. There was no gentleness, only one of reclaiming what he thought lost to him. His love. His heart. His life. All Ivy.
Climbing higher, Conn let the release rip through him, sending him on a wave of pleasure so intense he barely heard his love’s own cry when she screamed his name.
He quickly withdrew and brought them both onto the bed and entered her once again. Covering her mouth with his, he drew in her breath and gave it back mingled with his own. This time he took his leisurely time in kindling the desire in them both, kissing the tender side of her breast, behind her ear, and on her shoulder. But she surprised him by digging her fingernails down his back and wrapping her legs around him. When he withdrew slowly, Ivy pushed him harder inside her sending his senses reeling.
“Are you my vixen?” he rasped against her cheek, rubbing his face over hers.
She nibbled on his ear. “Vixen, wench, lover. Your heart’s desire is mine.”
Her raw sensuousness carried him to greater heights than he’d ever known. The fire continued to spread as the tremors of release began. He flicked his tongue over her taut nipple, eliciting a growl from her sweet lips. “Fly with me, mo ghrá.”
Conn kept his gaze on his beloved, and when the bright flare of passion exploded within her, he emptied everything he had into the woman he loved.
****
Warm, sated, and happy, Ivy trailed her hand over Conn’s smooth muscular chest. She thought him to be asleep, with one hand over his forehead and the other flung out to the side. He was the most gorgeous man ever, and she was deeply in love with the Fae. He had no idea how agonizing those five nights were to her, too. It was torture not to leave after her conversation with Sean and head directly to Dublin. Yet, she needed to think and not feel.
The first couple of nights sleep was elusive. Oftentimes, she wandered downstairs in despair. Her heart, body, and mind ached for Conn. Regardless that he was a Fae warrior Ivy knew she loved him. There was one fear she held close to her heart. He was an ancient, so why did he choose to be with her? He called her my love, said she was his, but did he truly love her? Or was she a possession?
Her hand stilled over the center of his chest. I don’t know what to believe?
“You have found my heart,” uttered Conn softly.
Startled, she lifted her hand. “Sorry, I thought you were asleep.”
“I am merely resting.” He placed her hand back on his chest. “A Fae’s heart is centered to his body, unlike a human’s.”
All other doubts vanished, intrigued by this new knowledge. “Fascinating. And your blood?”
He opened one eye. “Red is universal in the cosmos.”
Ivy shrugged. “I had to ask.”
“I’m not an alien.”
“Umm…in a way.”
Conn moved to his side and propped his head on his hand. “Would you be upset to know that humans were not created on this planet?”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you discounting evolution and man? God?”
His face grew serious. “Absolutely not. I’m stating a fact, which I’ll explain in further detail later.”
“Why me?” she blurted out.
Conn drew her to him. “Honestly?”
Ivy shook her head, though she held her breath fearing the worst.
“I cannot say, Ivy. From the moment I saw you, everything else shifted within me.” He sighed, bringing them both back down against the pillows.
Placing her hand back in the center of his chest, she gazed up at him. “Surely there have been others. You’re—”
“Ancient, not old,” he interjected.
“Is there a difference?” she teased. “Then tell me more.”
For the next several hours, Ivy listened with rapt attention to her Celt explain the world of the Fae and what a Fenian Warrior and the Brotherhood meant to him. Shocking as some of the information seemed, she absorbed it all, urging him to divulge more when he would hesitate or become unsure. The man had traveled through time—stood, counseled, and battled with many kings and queens. Her mind staggered, especially when she wanted to know how it felt being whisked from one century to the other. As he discussed his magical qualities, she probed him for examples, and he promptly reminded her about her garden.
“And Bradon Finnegan? You’re the one in the painting?”
“Yes,” he answered softly, stroking a hand down her back. “Bradon witnessed a skirmish between another of my Fenian brothers and a human. He grew concerned, deeming the warrior was in grave danger and dashed forward. Bradon put himself in front of the blade not realizing the Fae would have swiftly deflected the blow. Stunned by the brave actions of Finnegan, the warrior summoned a Fae healer to mend the man’s wounds, though they were not life threatening. From that very day, your ancestor was revered. He kept his secret—a vow he pledged before all three warriors, myself included.”
Ivy yawned. “What were their names?”
“Liam MacGregor and my mentor, Aidan Kerrigan. We allowed him to paint the landscapes of our world by sharing stories with him. He had a magnificent talent—one I see in you.”
She snuggled closer. “Tell me more of your home. Your world beneath ours.”
Ivy closed her eyes when he spoke of the beauty of his home. When he spoke about being away for so long, his voice took on a tone of sorrow. Therefore, Ivy held off with any questions. In time, she believed he would share everything, including painful memories.
This was a time of beginnings.
Rubbing her eyes with one hand, she draped the other over Conn’s chest—content and relaxed.
“Sleep,” he encouraged.
“Not tired. Hungry.”
“No food in the apartment. We can go out.”
Ivy bolted up straight. “Let me cook for you.”
Conn laughed. “What are you suggesting?”
She scooted onto her knees. “I spotted a market across the street. It had all these different kinds of squashes. I make a fantastic Spaghetti Alfredo Squash with Peas. And I have a special dessert that I know you will like, too.”
Conn leaped off the bed and grabbed his jeans. “Tell me what you need.”
“No.” Ivy scrambled off the bed and rushed to his side. “Let me go get everything. I want it to be a surprise.”
He eyed her skeptically. “Afraid I’ll get the wrong item?”
She laughed out loud. “Yep.” Picking up her discarded clothes, she dashed into the bathroom. Hastily getting dressed, she stole a glance at herself in the mirror before leaving.
Conn stood there holding out her coat. Helping her put it on, he then wrapped her purse over her shoulder and walked her to the door. “Do not tarry too long.”
Ivy stood on her tiptoes and kissed him thoroughly. “Missing you already.”