WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye (18 page)

Rhiannon ran toward Cerne, her heart thumping in her chest. What had she done? Maeve stood over Cerne’s body, while Ethelred hobbled toward them. Ethelred, despite the dire situation, seemed as calm as could be.

“Oh, my God!” Gasping for breath, Rhiannon knelt next to Cerne’s still body. His breathing was shallow and his face pale. “Is he all right?”

“I’m trying to check.” Maeve eased his head up. She reached across to his shoulder and prodded with her fingers. The loud crack reverberated throughout the entire room. “Dear me, that did not sound good.”

Rhiannon burst into action, pushing Maeve to the side. She took Cerne into her arms, ripped

off his tunic and pressed firmly against his shoulder. Perhaps she could visualize healing his injuries as she’d visualized throwing the book at him. How she regretted doing something so childish. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the lump on the back of his head. She had to do something, she cared about him so damn much. Yes, she could not deny it anymore. She had feelings for the stubborn faerie.

“I’m so sorry.” She hugged him close. “Please forgive me.” She closed her eyes and continued running her hands over his shoulder and neck. She centered her thoughts around his healing, and her hands begin to heat up. Rhiannon massaged and pushed her palms into his wounds, tracing her fingers against the lump on his head, and felt the swelling shrink beneath her touch.

Cerne groaned and stirred in her arms. She brushed a lock of his brown hair away from his face and lowered her lips to his.

“Mmm.” Cerne pulled her face closer to his. He ran his hands across her breasts, massaging her through the silky garments. Rhiannon bit her lip, feeling her nipples pebble against his expert touch. He rolled her over on her back, lowering his mouth to her neck. It was as if he hadn’t been injured just moments before.

“Cerne,” she breathed. “You can’t!” She struggled beneath him.

“Why not,
mo cridhe
? It’s not every day I awake in my princess’s arms.” He reached down to tickle her beneath her arms.

Rhiannon struggled to keep from giggling, but Cerne’s teasing assault was too much.

“Please,” she managed between snorts. “We’re in the wizard’s chamber.” Cerne pulled away and looked around. Rhiannon chuckled, watching Cerne’s horrified expression as he noticed Ethelred and Maeve staring at them with amused grins.

Cerne turned to Rhiannon and gritted his teeth. “For Gods’ sakes, woman, what did you do to me?”

“What both Ethelred and I warned you about,” Maeve replied matter-of-factly.

His mouth fell open. “You tried to decapitate me?” Rhiannon blinked. As if she’d be that cruel. “Not intentionally. I just threw the book at you—a little harder than I’d planned.” Rhiannon took his hands in hers. “I’m so sorry.” Cerne nodded and pulled himself from her. Dusting himself, he stood. To Maeve and Ethelred he said, “I appreciate being made an object of your amusement.” He wrenched himself

around and stalked to the door, flung it open and exited.

Rhiannon dried her face of the tears she shed earlier and turned to Maeve. “What was that all about?”

Maeve shrugged. “I fear we’ve overstepped our bounds. He’s had a trying day. Despite his refusal to believe his brother is dead, he’s grieving on the inside.” How could they forget his brother?

Gods, I’m a total bitch.
“I need to go talk to him.” Maeve grabbed her arm. “It’s best to let him be for now. I have one last thing to show you, and your magic lessons will be complete.”

With a reluctant sigh, Rhiannon nodded. “Okay.”

Ethelred turned to Maeve and threw a curious gaze. “Are you certain, Councilwoman?”

“You know it as well as me, Your Wizardry.” Maeve offered Rhiannon her arm. “Come with me, Your Highness.”

Rhiannon nodded and allowed Maeve her arm. Ethelred shambled against his staff, heading toward the doorway where Rhiannon had stood earlier.

“What lies behind these doors is reserved for only those most worthy faeries.” Ethelred turned to the ancient doors and flung them open with his fingers. “Please follow me, Your Highness.”

He clapped his hands and warm light bathed the room. Sitting in the middle of the room, in a gold-trimmed glass box upon a pedestal, was an intricately carved pendant. A circle of twelve rubies surrounded what looked like an emerald, although it sparkled more than any emerald she’d ever seen.

Maeve stepped forward and lifted the glass from the pedestal. She set the glass cover to the side and picked up the glittering, jeweled necklace.

“This amulet has been in your family since the dawn of time.” Maeve slowly ran her fingers across the jewels and continued on. “It was given to your mother when she finished her lessons.

Now it will be given to you, and your eldest daughter after.” Oh, joy. She had to procreate as well? Too bad she was horrible with kids. Rhiannon bit her tongue to keep quiet.

Maeve handed Ethelred the amulet and motioned Rhiannon to join them. Oh well, she couldn’t turn back now. She would have to remain here until Beltane. Not that she had any

worries. She was probably already unemployed anyway.

With an oddly cheerful step, Rhiannon approached the two faeries. She lifted her chin as regally as possible and smiled. “What do I do now?” Ethelred unclasped the back of the silver chain and placed it around Rhiannon’s neck. He spoke in a clear resonant voice. “Oh, Mother Goddess and Father God, I present to you Rhiannon Nightwind. Look upon her with favor and guide her through her journeys. So mote it be.” As if by magic, the chain formed to her neck and clasped shut. She gazed down and gasped.

The emerald glowed.

Rhiannon closed her eyes, taking in the warmth enveloping her. She was alert, ready, and extremely confident. It was as if she’d taken some sort of weird herbal enhancer to strengthen her perception. “Holy cow. What a rush,” she said, as the warmth receded.

“Wonderful!” Maeve clapped “The confirmation we need.”

“Wonderful, indeed,” Ethelred replied in a soft tone.

Rhiannon narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What confirmation?”

“You’re the untainted Princess of the White Faeries, of course,” Ethelred replied. “Gods bless us all!” He lifted his staff high in the air. He then slammed it to the ground. A bright ray of light burst from his staff and rainbow flecks of glitter and butterflies floated about them.

“I’m diggin’ the faerie confetti.” She lifted her hand and caught a butterfly on her finger.

“You’ll make an excellent queen.” Ethelred beamed.

Queen?
“But I thought I’m the princess. What about my mother?”

“Your Wizardry,” Maeve chided. “Princess Rhiannon has enough on her mind already. You need not confuse her more.”

She turned back to Rhiannon. “Eventually Titania will turn the kingdom over to you, but not for many years, so fear not.”

Rhiannon nodded. Being princess was one thing, but queen was another. What did she get herself into?

Cerne sat in his chaise, sipping a glass—his third—of elderberry wine. He’d acted like a total troll this afternoon, taking his anger out on them, especially Rhiannon. Did he imagine her tears as she laid her hands on his injuries? He probably did. She was a strong woman, full of fire and spunk. There was nothing she couldn’t do. Too bad he was the unfortunate pawn in the lesson plan. Yet, he’d felt as good as new, as if she’d instilled in him more energy than his injury had taken. He could only hope those three glasses of the finest faerie wine would put him back into a hazy state of mind.

But it wasn’t only Rhiannon who haunted him tonight. It was Sionnach. He’d let down his younger brother. He’d sent him to the lion’s den and sentenced him to death. How had Korrigan found out? The plan was foolproof, or so Radan had assured Cerne and the elder council. If he’d known differently, he would’ve gone in Sionnach’s place.

“But I was too busy searching for the princess.” Of course, he had begged Sionnach to trade places. Retrieving Rhiannon would’ve been a much easier task for his brother. Sionnach was renowned for his skills of seduction, even more than himself. Leave it to Sionnach to find a way to seduce a princess. Cerne shook his head, still feeling the lifeline to his brother. But the connection he’d made with Radan and the elders was gone. If Sionnach wasn’t dead, he was in serious trouble.

“Don’t go drinking yourself into a stupor, my friend.” Belenus emerged from the shadows, his wings flitting back and forth. He reached down for the decanter and grabbed a glass off the table next to the chaise.

Cerne took another swig. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Your princess is to meet the Queen. We can’t have her presented with a drunken consort, can we?”

“I’m not drunk—yet.” Cerne lifted the glass of wine and sloshed it around.

“I'm going to suggest to Maeve that we replace all our wine with Rhiannon’s Earthly libations.” Belenus placed the stopper in the decanter. He smiled and snapped his finger. The delicious elderberry wine transformed into the swill she’d forced him to drink on Earth. “That

should sober you up.”

Cerne wrinkled his nose. “Indeed, it will.” Having no more desire to drink, he stood. “I need to speak with Rhiannon beforehand. I’ve acted like a petulant child.” Belenus chuckled. “No need to, my lord. Rhiannon feels just as horrible as you. She understands your stress.”

“It still doesn’t make my behavior right.” He scratched his chin. “What was Ethelred trying to prove, anyway? He’s a seer.”

Belenus chuckled. “He knew the princess would heal you, so you weren’t in grave danger.

He has a strange way of proving points. The question I should ask you is, ‘What were
you
thinking?’”

Cerne shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought challenging her would increase her confidence.

Instead, I ended up plastered to the side of the wall by a book of spells.” Then he’d woken in her arms, her soft hands brushing the hair from his face, and her lips against his. Salty lips, as if she’d been crying. Maeve and Ethelred had stood above him with amusement. It was as if all the events from the day had finally taken their toll on him. He did not like it.

“I still feel Sionnach’s life-bond.” Cerne slammed his wineglass to the table. “Something is wrong.”

Belenus nodded. “I understand, my friend.” He sat next to Cerne and patted him on the back.

He brushed a strand of blond hair behind his ear. “It’s too dangerous to do anything, with Korrigan’s army so close.”

Cerne nodded. Eventually he would make sense out of all this, but now he needed to focus on Rhiannon. “When are we to be presented to the Queen?”

“At the feast Maeve has planned.”

Dear Gods, a feast? “Has Maeve gone mad?”

Belenus chuckled. “Far from it. It’s only proper to celebrate the arrival of the princess.”

“I suppose it would be, but I’ve taken one too many sips of elderberry wine.” Cerne’s legs wobbled.

Belenus shook his head with mirth. “A problem easily remedied, my friend.” He touched Cerne’s shoulder.

In a matter of a few seconds the effects of the wine dissipated, leaving him with hunger

instead.

Belenus beamed, apparently happy with his handiwork. “I figured I’d help empty your stomach too.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” Cerne turned and stalked to his wardrobe. Grabbing the first thing his hand connected to, he pulled out a sapphire-blue overcoat bedecked with glitter and crystals, along with a pair of silver breeches.

He threw on the overcoat and turned to Belenus. “Don’t you need to get dressed?” Belenus gasped in shock. “You’re right! How could I forget?” He snapped his fingers and a bright flash filled the room. When the mist dissipated, Belenus threw back his head and laughed.

He now stood in a gold-trimmed crimson cloak and a pair of black breeches that matched the black tunic underneath. “It’s good to have your wings.”

“Braggart,” Cerne teased, thumping his friend on the arm. “Shall we go collect our women?”

“Don’t let Maeve hear you.”

“I can say anything I want in front of Maeve,” Cerne threw back. “It’s you who cannot.”

“Your time will come, my friend. I guarantee it.”

~*~*~

Pacing across the furry rug in her chambers, Rhiannon gnawed her fingernails. Nervous was an understatement for what she was feeling right now. A week ago, had someone came up to her and said she was a faerie, she would’ve laughed her ass off. But now that she was here, in Fey, she knew how real it was. All of a sudden, realization hit her. She had a mother and father! Her head swam and her heart raced.

Maeve lounged on the chaise, chuckling. “I’m not sure what you’ll do the most damage to.

Your fingernails or the bearskin rug beneath your feet.”
A bearskin rug?
She’d expected something more magical, like a yeti or some other mythological beast.

“I’m worried, is all.” Rhiannon plopped down into the seat next to Maeve. “I want to make a good impression on my Mother and Father.”

Maeve smiled. “You needn’t worry, Your Highness. Queen Titania and King Oberon will love you. And you’re wearing the Mother Amulet. Nothing can go wrong.”

Rhiannon traced the amulet resting strategically between her breasts and laughed. “I guess faeries haven’t heard of Murphy’s Law.”

Maeve pushed a blonde piece of hair from her cheek. “I’m afraid we don’t take up active interest in human law, but if you’d like to explain, I’d be more than happy to listen.” Rhiannon burst into laughter. “It’s not an actual law. It just says whatever can go wrong, will.”

With a bemused arch of her brow, Maeve shrugged. “Sounds like quite a depressing place, Earth.”

“I won’t disagree, but it does have its benefits.” Rhiannon hadn’t felt more invigorated in—

well—forever. If she didn’t have obligations back in Phoenix, she’d move here in a heartbeat.

“And yet you still are conflicted.” Maeve sighed. “How can we convince you?” Rhiannon smiled. “I don’t know, but you all are doing a good job as it is.”

“Wonderful. The men should be here soon. We need to get you dressed. You can’t meet your mother in your magic gown.”

Maeve fluffed the sleeve of Rhiannon’s gown and flounced from the chair toward the wardrobe. She flung the doors open wide. “What do we have here?” Maeve twirled around and held out a beautiful sapphire gossamer gown. “This will look marvelous on you.”