Heart of the Forest (Arwn's Gift Book 1) (39 page)

“I love you,” I offered unprompted, as my bloodied fingertips threaded through his dark hair.

“You better, Dy’ne.” He snickered as he peeled himself from me. Without warning, he picked me up by the waist and tossed me over his shoulder. I squealed and heard footsteps as I dangled haplessly over his shoulder. We woke up Caoilfionn.

“Morning, Caoilfionn,” I said, twisting my neck to look at him. He wasn’t glamoured for a change and stood shirtless, with his hair falling like a white waterfall over his shoulder. He beamed at me for a moment and then glared daggers at Yorwrath, who sucked his teeth before he turned and carried me back into the bedroom.

Yorwrath placed me on the bed and closed the door before kicking his trousers off. In the distance, a cock crowed, and I groaned with the throb and ache of my well-used sex as he lay in the bed beside me. He pulled that expensive fur-lined blanket over us before drawing me back against his body.

“Did you get them all?”

“Every last one, and then we set the camp ablaze. They’ll find nothing if they send anyone looking.”

“I got you a Yule gift.”

“Really? Is it here, Dy’ne?” He slid his hand to my stomach.

“You wish,” I snorted, and he grew deadly silent.
I guess he does.
I smirked slightly and turned around to place a gentle kiss on his chin. “I got you a dagger that has a handle of dragon bone and a blade forged in dragon’s fire… They call it fool’s folly, the spreader of bullshit.” I could barely keep a straight face.

“So very funny, Dy’ne.”

“I figured since I cast my first spell on you, I should go all-out witch. I made you a talisman for good luck.” I reached behind me blindly for the box on the small table beside the bed. Yorwrath’s hand guided me to it while he smiled at me.

“How thoughtful, is this so I don’t stray?” He quirked a brow.

“No. But if you bring me the pox from some whore I’ll make you impotent.” I beamed at him, earning a kiss on my nose and a chuckle. He opened the box and took out the small flat carved stone that dangled from a thin cord of leather.

“Yours is in the corner.” He tied the talisman around his neck and glanced at the corner. Leaning beside his sword and bow was another sword. It was shorter than his, and the scabbard was more ornate. “I figured if Arwn’s Gift is going to wield a blade it shouldn’t be something scavenged. I told the smith to make it for an elven woman or pixie instead of Dy’ne. Your muscles are finer than a human’s. I can tell just by the way you hold your posture. Fuck, I’m tired…” He collapsed back against the pillow hard with a sigh. “It’ll serve you well, it’s a good blade…something to keep you safe when I can’t.”

“Look at us concerned about each other’s safety.”

“We’ve reason to be concerned, Dy’ne. Both of us. War is coming, and old forgotten things are stirring.”

“Speaking of that…your connection with fire…”

“There’s nothing to speak of. It is what it is. A side effect of…what you did. Trust me, I’m not oblivious to the changes occurring, Dy’ne. I’m dealing with them—Caoilfionn helped me. Now let us sleep, Dy’ne.” He kissed my shoulder and I rolled over, smirking. His hand was on my waist in a flash, pulling me back against him hard, trapping me. We fell asleep like that, with him clutching me to him protectively. We slept like that for many nights after, until the blanket of winter snow melted into mud, and he left with the retreating frost and then I slept alone.

1357

Nos Galen Mai

May Day

The days seemed to last forever. As May Day approached, everyone’s husbands and wives had been trickling back into the town for the last week. I didn’t even hope. Oh at first I did, but then Grwn came back early. He had been with his family for two weeks before May Day came around. He brought me a drawing from Morwenna. It wasn’t anything creepy or prophetic; it was merely a drawing of me smiling. Apparently she drew it to thank me for saving her brother. She was in the elven capital now and hating her lessons and her new family. Hedda wasn’t happy, and in spite of being fat with child she still managed to throw Grwn out the first night he was back. He slept on one of the empty cots in my shop. She was quick to welcome him back after that night, though, but I couldn’t stand to be around her. She kept smiling at me, and with every smirk, I could hear the ‘I-told-you-so.’ So I let my hope die and decided to focus on more important things—like the garden at the back of the shop.

A horse’s quick canter half earned my attention as I focused on planting sage. The carrots and tomatoes were done, but the honeysuckle I planted in the corner looked sad. The bush looked half dead even though it had been in the ground a month and I was watering it like I knew I should. The horse stopped.

“We’re closed today,” I groused without turning around. Caoilfionn had gone off in search of that book a few days after Yorwrath left. It was easy enough to tend things without him. I slipped back into my old habits nicely—I was a solitary creature. My mind would wander from time to time. I spent many nights awake thinking about Yorwrath and Aneurin. The war was distant, but we did get news. The king of Ersland had proved himself to be inept, and the glorious Swynwr had been victorious at every turn. Even in victorious battles there were casualties—I wasn’t stupid enough to think only the vanquished were wounded on a battlefield.

I heard the visitor dismount, and I pulled my dagger from its sheath.

“Look here sheepfucker, I said we’re—” I paused when I turned around and found Yorwrath standing there looking like he did when he left in those worn dark green leathers. I dropped the dagger and jumped on him. He grunted with the impact.

“Don’t look so fucking shocked, Dy’ne. I said I’d come back. I even brought those plowing strawberries,” he grumbled as I covered his neck with kisses.

“Shut up and kiss me,” I growled back, coaxing a chuckle from his lips.

The ARWN’S GIFT Series

Heart of the Forest

An avid reader and lover of literature, Christina Quinn, has always wanted to be an author for as long as she can remember. She spends most of her days with a coffee cup or wine glass within arm’s reach as she labors at her laptop weaving incredible stories.

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