Prince of Passion (7 page)

Keiran caught Senga as she fell atop his chest, their ragged breaths filling the air around them. Though they had tried to be quiet, he was sure Molly hadn’t slept through their lovemaking.
 

He ran his hands over his mate’s back, learning the wonderful, silky feel of her skin. He couldn’t wait to return to Drahcir with her by his side. They would enter the gates to the cheers of their people. His family would be there to greet them with hugs, tears and laughter.
 

Much rejoicing would fill the kingdom as the curse would be fulfilled once more. Keiran knew his mother would waste little time in getting a ceremony together for their wedding. It was just a formality, but one he knew Senga would enjoy immensely.
 

He couldn’t wait to see the crown sitting atop her beautiful honey curls, the bright sun shining down upon her and highlighting her golden strands.
 

A gift. He wanted to give her a gift, something to celebrate their return to Drahcir and their future together. He had a magnificent teardrop shaped sapphire he could have set in a necklace.
 

Though he would gift her with it, it wasn’t exactly what he had envisioned. In his mind, he went through the jewels he had purchased over the years as well as the ones in the royal vault. And that’s when he recalled the amazing yellow diamond ring he’d stumbled across before he’d left Drahcir.
 

It was perfect. Just the gift for his wife. He couldn’t wait to see it on her hand. It would be a sign of their love.
 

Love? Do I love her? I lust after her, but love?
 

Keiran pushed a strand of hair from her face to find her sleeping. Her lips were parted slightly and her hand was curled on his chest.
 
She was beautiful, brave, loyal and courageous—everything a future queen of Drahcir needed to be. Being with her made him feel whole, and there was no question he cared for her. The emotion that made his heart beat faster every time he looked at her could be love.
 

He suspected it was love. But he couldn’t say for sure. Not yet, anyway.
 

Gently, he rolled to his side. Senga shifted and curled on her side away from him. He ran his hand over the swell of her hips to the indent of her waist. Even now, as exhausted as he was, he wanted her again.
 
He wondered how long before she swelled with child. And then he recalled the curse.
 

By the gods. I doona want my children to suffer through this.
 

But there wasn’t another way. Or was there? He had never thought to question Aimery on it. Could the Fae have held the answer all the years? Surely Keiran wasn’t the first Sinclair to wonder about ending the curse.
 

He leaned up and pulled the blanket over himself and Senga before he snuggled up against her. Whatever the price that needed to be paid, he would do it if it ended the curse forever.
 

A smile pulled at his lips as he drifted off to sleep and dreamt of his kingdom with Senga by his side and their children playing around them.
 

Chapter Seven

Senga wasn’t sure what woke her. She yawned and sighed against Keiran’s chest. His arm was draped over her with his hand cupping her breast. Even in sleep, her mate had a need to touch her.
 

“My mate,” she whispered, loving the sound of it.
 

It was still difficult to believe Keiran was actually hers and they were on their return to Drahcir. If only the Tnarg wasn’t trying to kill her.
 

Her mood now shattered, Senga sat up and clutched the second blanket to her chest as she moved to the edge of the ladder. She glanced over the side to find the fire roaring and Molly sitting at the table smiling at her. Senga returned her smile and started down the ladder.
 

“I trust you slept well?” Molly asked.
 

Senga nodded. “I did, thank you. You have our gratitude for offering us shelter.”
 

Molly waved away her words. “Nonsense, child. I’m happy to have the company. I’ve been alone for so long now.”
 

Senga grew uncomfortable in the silence that followed as Molly looked into her cup.
 
There had been something in Molly’s words and tone that set off warning bells in Senga’s mind.
 
She started towards their clothes. They were nearly dry, which meant they could leave soon.
 
Suddenly, she wanted out of the cottage as soon as she could, even if it meant stepping back into the snow.

“Come sit with me a moment,” Molly beckoned.
 

Senga had no choice but to do as Molly requested.
 
She glanced up at the loft, but Keiran slept on.
 
Senga walked to the table and accepted the cup of tea Molly offered. “Thank you. Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?”
 

“Ah, no need, lass,” the older woman said. “Where are you and your husband traveling to?”
 

Senga hesitated. No one was supposed to know of Drahcir.
 

Before she could respond, however, Molly continued. “You must be newly married.”
 

“Aye,” Senga admitted.
 

Molly ran her finger over the rim of the mug. “Where will you make your home? In the village at the base of the mountain?”
 

“Nay. We’ve other plans.”
 

“Good. Good.” Molly licked her thin lips and turned her blue eyes to Senga. “I’ve a confession to make.”
 

Senga shuddered, that odd tone back in Molly’s voice.
 
Why couldn’t Keiran wake?
 
“What would that be?”
 

“My name isn’t Molly. In fact, I’m not even human.”
 

Senga’s heart began to pound a slow, sickening tempo.
 
She’d known there was something odd about the woman, but it had come to her too late.
 
“Who…what are you?”
 

“I shall show you.” With a wave of her hand, a bright light infused the cottage.
 

Senga lifted her arm to shield her eyes as she watched the plain, older woman transform to a young, gorgeous Fae before her very eyes.
 
There was no denying the swirling blue eyes or the flaxen hair.
 

“This is the real me,” the Fae said. “My name is Saynarra.”
 

Instantly, Senga knew who she was. “You’re the Fae princess who cursed the Sinclairs.”
 

Saynarra shook her head. The wealth of flaxen hair that fell past her waist shimmered in the firelight. Her swirling blue gaze stared daggers at Senga. “I’m not a princess, though I am Fae. It was a Sinclair who labeled me a princess, the stupid fool.
 
The Sinclairs weren’t meant to fulfill the curse.
 
They were supposed to fail.”
 

“But they didn’t.
 
So you sent the Tnargs.”

“Of course,” Saynarra said, her smile malicious.
 
“I succeeded in killing a few Sinclairs.”

“Only because of their wounds, yet they managed to make it through the gates.”

Saynarra’s lips flattened.
 
“Don’t remind me.
 
It will all end with Keiran.
 
I’ve made sure of it.”

Senga looked to the loft, wishing Keiran would wake and join her. She was uncomfortable speaking to the Fae alone.
 
Not to mention the Fae frightened her.
 
She knew just how powerful a Fae could be, and one that was angry was the most dangerous of them all.

“He won’t wake.”
 

Her head jerked to Saynarra. Her heart thundered in her chest and constricted, as if a steel band had wrapped around it. “Did you kill him?”
 

“Nay. Not yet anyway.”
 

Senga closed her eyes in relief. She took in a steadying breath and looked at Saynarra. “What do you want?”
 

Her flaxen head tilted to the side. “Maybe it should be I who asks you that question, Senga of Drahcir.”
 

Senga’s stomach fell to her feet in dread. “I don’t understand.”
 

“Aye, you do. What do you want most for your mate and all of Drahcir?”
 

“I want the curse lifted,” she said. If this was her one chance to remove the curse, she would take it. “Is there anything I can do to lift the curse?”
 

A slow, sly smile pulled at Saynarra’s pink lips. “As a matter of fact, there is. I will lift the curse.”
 

Senga wasn’t fooled.
 
The Fae had just said she wanted to kill Keiran.
 
She had to have an ulterior motive to offer to lift the curse.
 
Since Senga knew how much Keiran suffered, and she didn’t want any other prince or princess of Drahcir to have to leave the kingdom, she was willing to see what the Fae would say.
 
“What would you ask of me?”
 

“You must give up Keiran.”
 

Senga jerked, unable to breath.
 
This she hadn’t expected.
 
The mere thought of being without Keiran made her heart feel as though it had been ripped from her chest.
 
To live without him after knowing his body, his touch, his kisses?
 
She wouldn’t be able to do it.
 
“You ask the impossible.”
 

“Not so,” Saynarra said as she rose to her feet.
 
She was tall and lithe. Her blue and silver gown was made of the sheerest material that hung straight to the floor and floated around her feet. The Fae turned to Senga. “I ask you to give up Keiran in return for lifting the curse. No more Sinclairs would need to leave Drahcir to find their mates. No more would the Tnarg hunt you or any Sinclair.”
 

With the blood pounding in her ears, Senga looked at Keiran sleeping soundly in the loft. She had worried so of their children having to leave Drahcir, but if she agreed, Keiran’s children would be safe. She didn’t think beyond that, for to think of Keiran with anyone else made her stomach roll.
 

She swallowed and faced the Fae. “And the mark upon his arm that brands him as mine?”
 

Saynarra shrugged. “It will be gone, as will any memory he has of you and your time together. He will return to Drahcir safely to live out his life.
 
The idea of him finding a mate will have never been.”
 

Senga gripped the arms of the chair and rose on shaky legs. Her every instinct
 
screamed to tell Saynarra nay, but how could she be so selfish? She was being offered a way to end the curse, to give the Sinclairs, as well as all of Drahcir, a fresh start.
 

Keiran wouldn’t remember her, he wouldn’t know he had already found his mate.
 
There wouldn’t be that connection that prevented him from finding a new queen.
 
She would be the only one to feel it, the only one to suffer.
 

Because she loved him so, she would endure a thousand deaths for him.

She moved to the fire and turned to look up at Keiran again. He was on his side facing her. A lock of his hair had fallen over his forehead, and she longed to smooth it back and feel his strong arms wrap around her one more time.
 
They’d had just a few short hours.
 
It seemed so unfair, but in those hours, she’d found contentment and love.
 

“Will he be happy?” she asked.
 

“Aye. He’ll marry in a few years and have children, children I should mention who would never have to worry about fulfilling my curse.”
 

With a sigh, she turned to Saynarra. “If you vow that he’ll never remember me or the thought that his mate is waiting for him, then I’ll do it. But he must never remember anything about me or our time together, because to separate mates is to kill us both.”
 

Saynarra stepped towards her. “My magic is strong. As long as he lives, he’ll never recall you.”
 

“What will I do? Will I return to the village and live out my life?”
 

“Nay. You can’t be anywhere near him. I’ll take you somewhere far, far away. Somewhere where you can rest peacefully.”
 

“All right,” Senga agreed before she changed her mind. “I agree to your conditions.”
 

Saynarra smiled, triumph in her swirling blue eyes. “A wise choice, Senga. You wouldn’t have liked dying by the Tnarg’s hand.”
 

A shiver raced down Senga’s spine at the mention of the beast.
 

“Now,” Saynarra said as she held out her hand palm up and a shiny cup of silver appeared. “All you have to do is to take a drink. It’ll seal our deal.”