Coveted

  Chapter 29

  I awoke with a start. It was dark in my room but I could still see Bran looking down at me. I could not move or speak. I could make nothing of why he was there. My traitorous heart was trying to run away to escape and leave the rest of me behind. The animal snared it in its talons and held it firm.

  "Dove," he said softly as he stroked my cheek. "What did Michael tell you?"

  "Having your minions follow me again?" I growled as I brushed his hand away.

  "Just tell me, please." He sounded as if everything would shatter around us if I didn't answer. His voice was too soft, too delicate.

  "He confirmed what you said." Maybe in not so many words, but the confirmation was there.

  Bran sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "We are surrounded by liars, dove. The only real people are the two of us."

  I snorted. "You lied to me. That isn't being real." I pulled the sheet more tightly around myself. It was a pitiful shield.

  He looked down at his fist and then at me. "I brought this back." He opened his palm to show a small bundle. I knew what was inside. He set it down on the nightstand. The poorly tied covering gave way, revealing the silver inlay. He sighed. "I kept it quiet because Michael asked and because he seemed convinced you not knowing would be a good thing for all of us."

  I didn't look at him. I kept my eyes on the runes. "This doesn't change that you lied to me. I can't trust you."

  "Dove," he whispered. "We need to go back to Scotland. It is the only way to keep you safe from anyone who would keep us apart. It's all happening again. They are winning again."

  I pushed myself into a sitting position. "No one is keeping us apart. Michael isn't stopping us. Alistair doesn't seem like much of a threat..."

  "He is," he insisted. "He is immortal like me. He can fight like me but in Scotland we will have the protection of Morrigan herself. You can live like an immortal queen amongst gods."

  I threw my hands up. "I don't want to be an immortal queen!" I shouted. "I don't want immortality."

  It was like all the happiness in the world had been pulled out of him through the navel. "You don't want to be with me."

  "I do," I confessed. "I want to be with you more than anything in the world and that's what scares me. I want to be with you so much that I'm even considering ignoring everything else, everything that a sane person would see as horrifying. That is how much I want to be with you. Every cell in my being pulls me to you."

  He nodded. "I feel it too."

  Tears stung my eyes. "I'm scared, Bran. I'm as scared of you as I am of existing without you."

  He stroked my cheek again. My body betrayed my mind. It sent shots of pleasure through me, eager to welcome back the familiar sensuality. My mind wanted to run away to a magical place where the world was simple and made sense.

  He crouched next to me and lowered his head to rest his forehead against mine. His eyes were closed. "I love you, dove. I have never wanted to hurt you, ever."

  His voice was so soft. I wanted to relax with him. I wanted to enjoy his heat like I had the night before. I wanted more nights of gazing at the stars while our bodies were pressed together. I wanted it as much as I wanted breathing. But there was too much that could not be explained away so easily. I wanted it, but still my muscles would not give in. I wanted him to go. I needed to be alone. I may not have Michael, but that did not mean I should have Bran.

  He kissed me. I did not pull away. His kiss deepened and my lips, despite my inner confusion, welcomed him. He leaned over my body, covering it with his.

  He had always controlled it all. I needed to know I was not drowning in him. I needed to survive him. I pushed him away. "No," I whispered.

  He kissed me again but I turned my face away. "I can't live without you," he breathed against me. He reached up and held the side of my neck still as he kissed the other. I tried to push him away again but he pushed back. I was pinned to the bed. "You're the only one who can silence it," he whispered.

  "Stop," I pleaded quietly. I was being consumed from the inside out. The demands of the gnawing had gone out of control. My refusal had turned it into a frenzy.

  Bran kissed my neck again.

  "Please, Bran. No. This isn't what I want." But he didn't stop. He continued the attack with his lips down the length of my throat as he held me in place.

  "Bran," I whimpered.

  He could destroy me if he wanted and it was that that scared me the most. I did not want to surrender to him. "Please, Bran. Stop."

  "I would never hurt you, dove," he whispered in my ear. "You are my soul. I love you more than anything." Despite his words, he did not let go.

  My fear soaked my cheeks. "Bran, please," I begged. "Let me go."

  "You are mine. You are safe," he repeated. "And it will stop."

  "Bran!" I shouted in his ear. "You're hurting me!"

  It was like he was in a trance. He could not hear me. He did not heed my struggles and I was still pinned.

  I cried out but it made no difference. This was Morrigan's warrior on top of me. Riley scratched and whined at my bedroom door. I sobbed as I begged and pleaded with Bran to let me go but his grip only strengthened. The gnawing in my chest had finally been silenced by pure terror. With my eyes squeezed shut, I sobbed. Who knew if I would live through the attack or the violation but there was no one who could help me. I was alone. Only I could fight.

  I stopped sobbing. I stopped wishing. I struggled. I tried to buck him off and move my legs. I was too well pinned. I pushed against his chest with no luck. I had nothing to defend myself. He was too strong, too heavy. I tried to pull my arms free to hit him but he was too fast. He grabbed my wrists and tried to force my arms above my head so violently that our joined hands banged the wood surface of the nightstand. My eyes flew open just as both our hands touched the stone and in both a blessing and a curse, the horror before me disappeared.

  Bran was not on top of me. We were not struggling, but I was no less terrified. Smoke was beginning to fill the small hut. My eyes darted around the room. My hundredth assessment of the situation had yielded no way to safety.

  There was a warm trembling against my arms. I looked down to see my hands wrapped around the shoulders of a small blond girl.

  "Shhh, Gulla, they'll hear us," I whispered.

  There was another loud bang as someone was thrown against the wall of the hut. Gulla jumped and buried her face deeper into my shoulder.

  I stroked her arm but the gesture was weak. I had no comfort to give. My sister and I were going to be raped and murdered and I had just been married! This wasn't supposed to happen. I was finally supposed to be safe. Where was our protector? Where was Firinn?

  Another bang, this time against the door. The pile of stools, food, and tables shook and threatened to give way. I shut my eyes tight. "Please, please, go away," I whispered to myself over and over.

  Another bang, another jump from Gulla.

  "Please, great goddess, Please, save us. Please great goddess, please save us." I repeated the prayer with as much need as I had to breathe."

  "... please, save us... please protect us... " Gulla began to whisper in unison.

  I tightened my hold around her. "... great goddess. Please save... "

  There was another bang and the sound of several food filled baskets falling from the pile.

  A soft hand on my head made me scream, which evoked a scream from Gulla as well. I looked up into the porcelain face of a woman with gold hair. It was not simply blond. It was actual gold. Even in the faint light from the cracks in the door, it sparkled.

  The faint smile on her lips and the sadness in her eyes said friendship. She turned her eyes from me and pointed to the floor by the fire pit. There was an axe. She then looked back at me. I shook my head so hard I thought my eyeballs might shake loose and roll across the floor.

  "You can do it," she said. "There is only one. The rest are fighting the men."

  I shook my head again. "I c-c-can't."


  She nodded. "You can."

  "I'm not strong like that man," I cried. "I'm no warrior, just a woman."

  She furrowed her brow and looked down at her own body. Only then did I realize it was clad in ornate steel armour. "A warrior must be a man?" she asked.

  I just stared. She couldn't really expect me to do anything?

  When I remained silent, she shrugged and said, "If you insist."

  She gripped my head in her large palm. I felt all the force of a bolt of lightning scorch through me, splitting me right down the middle. I screamed in agony as I felt half my body torn away. Her hand was gone. I fell to the ground. My face rammed into the earthen floor.

  "Smudan!" Gulla cried. "Smudan!"

  I couldn't open my eyes. I wanted to. I knew I needed to. The last bang had forced something heavy off the pile. It thumped on the earth. The next hit and our murderer would be through.

  "Smudan! Please," begged Gulla.

  I heard a sword unsheathe. It was over. It was too late.

  "I'm sorry, Gulla," I whispered.

  She did not respond. Had she already been cut down? I hadn't heard the last blow to the door. I hadn't heard our feeble defenses crumble. I must have been too close to death to hear such things. At least she hadn't been raped. I could not have borne that. It had been quick. If there were any mercy in the world, it would be quick for me too.

  Where was Firinn? Was he dead? Was he still fighting? Would he find our bodies when it was all over, his wife and her orphan sister?

  Someone started shaking me. The hands were too small to be those of an invader. It must have been Gulla. My eyes opened. She was shaking me but not looking at me. Her eyes were transfixed upon the door.

  I tried to push myself onto one elbow. I appeared whole though I did not feel it.

  The last bang came and the remainder of our bracing pile was scattered from the door. I looked up to identify our attacker but there was someone in the way: a large, naked man, who had not been in the room a moment ago. The only things covering his hard flesh were a scabbard strapped to his back and a knotwork dove marking the ripples of his ribs. He must have been a god. I wanted him to be my god.

  A shriek in my chest called me to him but I stayed frozen. His sword came down hard, truncating the gasped curse of the invader, whose head was sent rolling out the door. This god turned slowly to look down at me and Gulla. I pulled my sister into my side and held her close. I tried to look defiant but I could find no defiance inside me. Every pore wanted to embrace him.

  He knelt down and cupped my chin in his hand. "You are safe, my dove," he whispered as he looked into my eyes. His swirled both blue and green. Could eyes do that? He was not human. There was no way. He was the help the goddess had sent to us.

  I wanted to throw my arms around him in gratitude but I was still lying on the ground and had to settle for delirious laughter instead.

  A hand was thrust in front of my face. Gulla had picked something up. It was some kind of stone.

  "What is that?" I asked as I stared at the silver runes.

  "I don't know," she said quickly. "It fell out of you when the Goddess touched you."

  I wrapped my fingers around it and held it against my gut. I had no idea what it was but a gift from the goddess was too valuable to be treated carelessly.

  There was scuffing outside and our warrior whirled around, raising his sword in one seamless movement. Firinn stumbled through the doorway, panic etched into his face. We locked eyes and I felt total love and relief at seeing him. We were surely safe now. There was nothing to fear now that I had two protectors.

  My elation faltered as Firinn's eyes flashed to our divine warrior. He lifted his sword just in time to block the warrior's blow.

  "No!" I screamed. "That is Firinn! He is my husband!"

  The warrior glared at me over his shoulder. All the hatred and heartbreak of millions of years filled his eyes. "You are mine!" He yelled.

  Firinn took the momentary distraction to swing his sword towards the dove on the warrior's ribs. The warrior was too fast, he jumped back with a growl.

  Firinn was looking equally murderous now. "She is my wife," he warned. "You stay away from her. She is the mate to my soul."

  The warrior lifted his sword and bellowed, "She is my soul!" He lunged at Firinn.

  The two spiralled in a dance of blocks and blows and a song of grunts and bellows.

  "Stop!" I begged. "Please!"

  But they were heedless to my pleas. I tried to get up. My muscles were strong enough now but Gulla held me back. "You'll get hit!" She cried.

  "But Firinn!" I never took my eyes from the duelling pair. I couldn't lose Firinn. He was my life.

  "Please!" I screamed again. Again they did not listen.

  I looked to the fire for the axe. I couldn't. I just couldn't. Even if it would save Firinn. I was too weak. I could not bear to do it.

  The slicing of flesh heralded my failure. Even if I could have, I was too late.

  Firinn looked down at the sword in the middle of his body. The heat of my body drained from me as quickly as the blood drained from his. He let out a small chuckle and grimaced. The warrior held the sword firm.

  "She is mine," the warrior growled.

  Firinn smiled. "Not yet."

  The warrior had underestimated Firinn in every way. Despite his injury, Firinn slashed his sword into the warrior's neck. It was not enough to make a clean severing as the warrior had done to the invader but it was enough to cut the jugular. As the blood poured from their bodies, they fell to the ground in a twisted heap.

  I blinked. Firinn was dead. Firinn... dead. The shrieking inside my chest protested the warrior's fall as deeply as I mourned Firinn's. I buried my face into Gulla's side and screamed.