Authors: Silver James
Neal and Rory
exchanged a long look.
“Kieran, we’ve all
known forever you’d be Uncle Finn’s heir.” Rory shrugged. “Face it, you’re
going to be the MacDermot whether you like it or not. Since Uncle Finn isn’t
gettin’ any younger, and especially now you’ve chosen Becca, you have to give
her the Knot.” Rory chuckled. “I swear there are times you’d think the clann
would cease to exist if that bloody brooch wasn’t handed out once a generation.
I’m just glad you’re the one who’s cursed with the true mate thing.” He leaned
back in his chair and let out a satisfied sigh. “Me? I like the cailíns way too
much to tie myself down to just one.”
Kieran stared at the
man who was not only his cousin but also his best friend. “Be careful what you
say, Rory,” he cautioned. “You never know when foolish words like those will
come back to haunt you.”
Rory snorted. “Aye,
and next you’ll be tellin’ me to spill a drop of ale to pay tribute to the
fae.” The younger man stood up and stretched. “An’ speakin’ of the cailíns,
I’ve got a hot date. Cousin, you know how to find me.”
Without a backward
look, Rory strode out of the bar. Kieran and Neal exchanged a long look, then
glanced around the room to make sure no one watched. They both spilled the last
drops of their beers on the bar.
“To the faerie,”
they toasted.
Epilogue
Becca floated in
that delicious state halfway between falling asleep and dreaming. She snuggled
into Kieran’s side and sighed, the sound happy and relaxed to her ears. On this
first night of her married life, she was completely and totally satisfied. Oh,
how this man had made love to her. And, oh, the things she had done to him. Her
cheeks grew hot just thinking about all they’d tried in bed. She felt complete,
like a huge hole in her heart had been filled and for the first time in her
life, she was truly at peace and content. She snuggled closer to her new
husband. How could she not feel whole when he filled her so completely?
She rubbed her cheek
against his shoulder, her thoughts returning to their wedding. It had been a
simple ceremony with family and a few close friends. He’d added some vows of
his own for them to repeat.
“By the life that
courses in my blood and the love that resides in my heart, I take thee to my hand,
my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one,” Kieran had pledged to her that
morning in front of their guests. “To desire thee and be desired by thee. To
possess thee and to be possessed by thee,
without sin or shame for
naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee
wholly in this life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again.
There is no beginning, there is no end, but in you. You are my chosen.”
They’d be married
again in a church ceremony in a few weeks’ time when they arrived at his home
in Ireland.
Kieran stirred
restlessly and tightened his arms around her. He made her feel cherished, as if
she were the only woman in the world.
“You
are
the
only woman in the world as far as I’m concerned,” he murmured in her ear.
She kissed the
hollow of his shoulder and laid her head on the spot. “Love of my heart,” he
told her looking deep into her cerulean eyes.
“Light of my life,”
she had replied as her eyes drifted shut and her breathing became deep and
regular.
Becca smiled in her
sleep and he kissed her forehead. His last waking thought was that her eyes
were the exact color of the fire opal mounted in the MacDermot Knot. As soon as
they got back to Ireland, he’d give it to her.
****
“He must still
bestow upon her the Covenant,” the male complained.
“’Twill be done. The
binding is made. ’Tis all that matters,” the female replied.
“Excuse me, but who
are you?” Becca broke in.
Silence.
“I know you can hear
me. Why won’t you answer me?”
Still silence, and
then a sharply indrawn breath.
“She still hears us.
How is that so?” The male was distraught.
“How could she not?”
the female replied smugly. “She
is
our
daughter.”
A word from the author...
At the age of four, I lined
up my stuffed animals and told them stories I made up. At thirteen, I committed
my first “novel” to paper—in a black-and-white-plaid spiral notebook. “The
Talisman” had a decent plot along the lines of “Connecticut Yankee in King
Arthur’s Court” though processed through the brain of an adolescent girl.
Needless to say, it was abysmal.
I’ve been married to my best
friend, who also happens to be an attorney, for twenty-five years. Our
wonderful daughter is in college, majoring in museum studies and history, a
love she came by honestly from her dad and me both.
Over the course of my
lifetime, I’ve been a military officer’s wife, state appellate court marshal,
airport rescue firefighter and forensic fire photographer, crime analyst, and
technical crime scene investigator. I’ve since retired from the “real world”
and live in Oklahoma. I spend my days at the computer with my two dogs, the
“lolcat” who owns us all, and myriad characters all clamoring for attention.
Eventually, I’ll get around to telling each of their stories.
For more information about Silver and her books, visit
www.silverjames.com
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