Chapter Twenty-Nine
“My journey was uncertain, until I encountered my last thread on the loom of life.”
~Diary of Princess Abela
Stretching fully, Abela wrapped a leg over Liam’s naked hips, reveling in the hard planes of his body and inhaling his scent. Contentment filled her soul, and she pressed a kiss on his shoulder. Loving Liam MacGregor was the greatest adventure of her life.
“I love you, my warrior.” Lifting her head, she gazed into his silver-blue eyes. Love reflected back within his own.
He caressed her backside in a leisurely manner, sending shivers of desire once again through her. “And I love you, mo ghrá.”
Her fingers trailed down his arm. “Where is your armband?”
“On my father’s desk.”
She bolted upright. “If you removed the relic, then you fully intended to enter into the water? It is sacred to your family and denotes your lineage within the Royal house of Avieon on our homeland on Taralyn.”
Liam winced. “Yes.”
She smacked his arm and turned away from him.
He tugged on one of her curls. “I was fading from this existence. Eventually, I would have gone mad. I could not fathom you gone. I lost all self-control. It was the first time in my existence that I allowed the darkness of grief to invade my soul. I refused to harness the anguish.”
“Life is precious,” argued Abela. Glancing over her shoulder, she added, “However, I might have done the same. At least I reached you in time.”
Liam placed one arm under his head. “Yes, you did. I will retrieve the armband in the morning. Amidst collecting the family relic, I must make apologies to my mother.”
“Have you caused her distress?”
He closed his eyes on a sigh. “Horrifically so.”
Poking him on his leg, she added, “Go this evening. Do not wait.”
“As you wish, beloved.”
Curling her knees to her chest, Abela gazed around his chamber. An oak tree was fashioned from all the pieces of wood in their realm—from a blend of rowan, yew, maple, birch, elm, pine, and oak. The creative carving expanded across the entire wall in a multi-layer of colors. Directly opposite was a tapestry of their ancient homeland of Taralyn during the full moons. Moonlight spilled over the entire kingdom in an illuminating effect. In awe of the work, she found something new as her gaze traveled over the embroidery. Candles graced an amber table at the end of his massive four-poster bed. The room spoke of the man, and Abela grew curious about the rest of his chambers here in the Crystal Palace.
“You have exquisite taste,” she observed.
Liam pulled her back against him. “Wait until you see the rest of my chambers.”
“Hmm…let me guess. Is there a library?”
“Massive. It contains all the tomes from the collection of Panilla.”
“The great poet from our homeland? I thought the works were lost.”
“I found them one day searching for a scroll on elixirs in the lower level of the Library of the Ancients.”
“I would enjoy reading them.” Abela nuzzled his neck. “I’ve heard that reading some of his poems can ignite arousal in a Fae.”
In one swift move, Liam rolled her onto her back. His fingers trailed a path over her breasts and down her stomach. “Not as much as my words and touch.”
When his fingers reached the most intimate part of Abela, she gasped in pleasure. “I’m not so sure. I…I…um…will have to read those poems for myself.”
In slow circles, Liam continued to fondle and tease her. “No. I will read them to you.”
“Yes, yes,” she agreed, trying to grasp the elusive flame building within her body.
“For now, let me give you pleasure,” he murmured against her neck, nipping at the soft spot below her ear. “I find I cannot get enough of you. I never want to part from you.”
Abela closed her eyes on the sensations and surrendered herself to his ministrations. He stopped, and her eyes flew open. “No. Never.” And in one fluid movement, he entered her body and she let out a groan.
The sensual dance continued, especially when she wrapped her legs around Liam’s back, bringing him even deeper within her body. His thrusts were driving her wild. Raking her nails down his back, she arched madly against him. The tide of passion lifted and swept them into the stars, and she screamed his name.
Liam roared as his release poured into her body. Her skin tingled from her head to her toes, and the starlight shimmered all around them. Floating on a wave of ecstasy, they drifted back onto his bed. He held her quaking body, crooning words of love and endearments in her ear.
Sated and content, Abela closed her eyes.
Their quiet reunion was interrupted when Rory came charging through the outer chamber shouting. “What did you do to our mother?”
Abela scooted under the covers as Liam bolted out of the bed and met his brother at the entrance of his inner chamber. “I am going to make amends. For now, you must leave.”
“You bastard!” Rory shoved him aside. “Is this how you honor the woman—your wife—who you loved and lost? By bringing another to your bed?”
“Wait!”
“Who is she?” demanded Rory, standing by the side of the bed. “Are you bringing other women back from the Pleasure Gardens?”
Abela let out a hiss of disapproval from under the fur coverings. She snapped her fingers to magically view the spectacle.
Liam folded his arms across his chest, giving no regard to his lack of clothing. “Contrary to what you’ve assumed, I can assure you that I have remained honorable to my beloved.”
Rory regarded him like a specimen. “Have you gone mad? How many times must I tell you? She is—”
“Do not say that word,” ordered Abela, tossing the covers off her head and clutching them to her chest.
Rory’s mouth opened and closed, resembling a gaping fish. He pointed a finger at her. “Im…impossible.”
Abela pinched her arm in a mock display of being alive. “Yes, it is possible. I felt the pain.”
Rory stumbled back, blinking several times. “Does Conn know? The king and queen?”
Plucking a rare piece of lint from the velvet covering, she replied, “Yes. Conn was made aware of my awakening early this morning by the king.”
Rory charged out of the room.
“What is he doing now?” complained Abela.
Liam shrugged and went to a trunk by the side of the bed, retrieving a pair of trews. Hastily putting them on, he asked, “Would you like me to do the honors?”
Rolling her eyes, Abela snapped her fingers and a pale blue silken gown graced her body. Giving a light touch to her mussed hair, she magically transformed the mass into perfection. “I am fully in control of all my powers,” she replied dryly.
“Good to hear.”
After slipping out of the bed, she went and wrapped her arms around him. “I think we’d better go see what he’s doing.”
Liam groaned. “By all the noise, I believe he’s searching for one of my rare bottles of single malt.”
“What? No ambrosia from the Pleasure Gardens?” She winked and darted away from him.
“I find no humor in your question.”
“Then I shall think of something else.”
Abela strolled into the main chamber with Liam following closely behind her. True to what Liam had stated, his brother had flung open the doors to a massive cabinet. Three glasses were displayed next to a decanter, but Rory continued to explore and pull out other bottles.
“Is there something I can help you find,” asked Liam, opening the doors that led out to the garden.
“I know you have a bottle from Alastair MacKay.”
“I do, but it’s mead, not whisky. You know he favors the sweet wine.”
Rory arched a brow in question. “Are you sure? I can always resort to using magic to find it.”
“You are forbidden to use any type of magic in my chambers, or have you forgotten our vows when we entered the Brotherhood?”
“Never. You made me swear in blood,” acknowledged Rory, waving his hand about. “Why do you think I’m pulling out everything in this ancient cabinet? Your collection of glassware, iron and bronze vessels, and rare bottles of drink are more extensive than Conn’s.”
Abela continued to observe Rory in his quest to hunt for the elusive bottle. Liam’s mouth twitched in humor while he stood to the side, offering no assistance.
Fresh, floral air streamed inside distracting her from the comical scene. “And here I thought Conn had a stunning vista. You’ve outdone yourself, Liam.” She moved to the entrance and gazed outward. “Sweet Goddess, you have the golden swans in your lake. They’ve been missing from the royal gardens for years.”
“Found it!” shouted Rory, triumphantly.
Liam approached from behind and swept back a lock of hair from her neck. Leaning near, he whispered. “It will be our secret.”
She shivered from his touch, aching to strip free and frolic out in his lush garden.
“This is a cause to celebrate,” interrupted Rory carrying three glasses of whisky. Handing one to her and Liam, he lifted his high. “To life, love, renewal. A triad of happiness to you both always.” He quickly tossed back the dram.
Taking a sip, Abela sputtered. “This is what you were searching for?” She held the glass outward. “It burns.”
“It’s an acquired taste, mo ghrá.”
Handing Liam the rest of her drink, she countered, “I believe I’d like some of Alastair’s mead, if there is any.”
“Your wish is my command.”
After setting his glass down, Rory stepped near her. Taking her hand, he placed a kiss along the knuckles. “I am greatly relieved to see you are once again in my brother’s life. I feared he was descending to a place where no one would be able to reach him.”
If only Rory knew how close his brother came to ending his life. “Thank you. It has been an adventure. Never could I have fathomed the path I took.”
Dropping her hand, he smiled. “You are the first, besides the Fenian Warriors, to venture into the mortal world since we were escorted underground. I admire your strength. Many would have succumbed to death within hours.” In a more somber tone, he added, “And I will be forever grateful to you in freeing my brother from his prison. Regardless of the circumstances, your adventurous journey led us to a plot which could have led to the downfall of the kingdom.”
“I almost forgot!” She stole a glance at Liam. “I know who the traitor is!”
Liam crossed to her side and handed her a glass of mead. “Council member, Tulare.”
Abela felt the blood leaving her face. Taking a sip of the honeyed mead, she tried to steady her racing heart. It was a memory she had tucked away. Tulare never glimpsed her that day, but she would always remember his vile nature standing next to several Milesians and Peter O’Malley.
“Let us move outside,” suggested Liam. “There we can give you an account of everything.”
When she stepped into the warmth of the sunlight, Abela exhaled slowly. Some of her memories remained clouded of her time in the mortal world when she became ill. Yet, this one image soared within her mind. She walked with intent toward the grassy area, needing to feel the touch of the ground on her skin. Finding a place near the water, she settled down on the ground and patted for the men to join her.
“How much do you remember?” asked Liam, softly.
Abela took another sip of the mead. “Fragments. Though with each new hour, I am finding my memories are binding, enabling me to recall more vividly my time above. I saw Tulare with the Milesians and Peter. I was stunned to witness him there and more so to see the Milesians.”
“Thankfully, a war has been averted. Your father has met with the King of the Milesians. Another treaty has been drawn up. Both kings have witnessed, signed, and rescinded the previous one.”
After finishing her drink, she placed it on the ground. “Do tell how they did this without including the others,” she encouraged.
“Two treaties,” interrupted Rory, leaning back on his forearms. “One between the kings, stating that if conflict arose between the realms, both races, Tuatha de Danann and the Milesians would combine forces to unite. This will keep the worlds safe. The other treaty is for all races, specifically in regards to the Fenian Warriors. If required, the Veil of Ages could be used by the warriors for use in special circumstances. And only with approval from the king himself.” He paused. Wariness reflected within Rory’s eyes.
She nudged his leg with her foot. “What do the others—Dragon Knights and Irish Travelers—say to this new treaty?”
Silence hovered around them, except for the hum of bees. Abela directed her gaze to Liam, who kept his attention on the swans. Her shoulders slumped. “They don’t know.”
“No, they do not,” affirmed Liam, quietly.
“Have we truly become a divided realm? Did I do this?” She abruptly stood and hugged her arms around herself.
“It was inevitable,” stated Liam, standing and placing his arms around her waist. “The path had begun when your brother, Conn fell in love with a human—Ivy. In truth, this new direction may have started years ago.”
She sighed and leaned back against him. “This news is unsettling. I happen to like the Dragon Knights. At least the MacKays of Urquhart.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I concur.”
“So now what? The original treaties will be returned without their knowledge of the new ones?”
“Yes,” offered Rory, coming to stand alongside them.
“But it will be a lie,” she argued. “The shift of power has begun.”
Both men remained silent, and Abela’s heart grew heavy. Was this the path of the worlds? What was her part in all of this? Her lessons learned from the temple were for all people, regardless if they were human or Fae. Perhaps she could bring the teachings outside the sacred place for those to witness their healing purposes and knowledge. A thought to dwell on for another day.
Turning around in Liam’s arms, she gave him a beaming smile. “For now let us celebrate peace in all the realms. There will always be conflict and strife, but good does triumph in the end.”
“How right you are, beloved.”
Rory leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “With both your permissions, I will go forth and spread the good news that you are alive.”
Abela laughed with content. “I anoint you with the task.”
“Tell mother I shall visit her later,” stated Liam, bringing Abela closer to him.
Rory gave him a mock salute. “She was second on my list. Erina will be overjoyed with the news.”
“Unless Ivy has spoken with her already,” admitted Abela. “Truth be told, I am puzzled why you did not hear the news directly from Conn.”
Rory gave her a wink as he strolled away. “Erina and I were spending some alone time in the waters of Delfina.”
“Isn’t there a nickname for that place?” she shouted.
Rory’s laughter resonated long after he vanished from their sight.
“Would you like to visit the Lover’s waters, Abela?”
Abela’s face heated as she turned slowly to meet Liam’s sensual gaze. “Is it as pleasurable as many have whispered?”
He lowered his head and nipped on her lower lip. “I have never been, but the tales have been alluring.”
His voice sent tremors of delight across her skin. “Why did you not go?”
Kissing her lips softly, he whispered, “I made a vow long ago that if I ever claimed you, the waters of Delfina would be a special place for us. I had no desire to share the unique experience with anyone else.”
“Oh,” she breathed out, falling in love with Liam all over again.