Destroyed by Onyx (A Dance with Destiny Book 4) (9 page)

Chapter 10

Finnean

(FIN-yan)

The floor was cold against her bare feet.

The smells within their now crowded home had changed. Mingled with the familiar scent of burning wood, old furniture, and wet sod, were the new aromas of worn leather, dirty horse, and man sweat.

She crinkled her nose as she wrapped a small blanket around her chilling arms. Picking up the empty basket, she slipped quietly into the lifting darkness.

Jenevier feared angering Brodder again this morning, but she could no longer ignore her deep need for some rose tea. It pulled at her on a cellular level. She craved it almost to the point of delirium.

The delicate blooms were quite a walk from their solitary domicile, but well worth the trouble. Her mouth watered at the thought of the delicious hot nectar hitting the back of her throat, warming her all the way down to her belly.

The night mists were lifting, morning dew clung to the velvety petals. The pink and white roses were here, the deep red ones bloomed on the other side of the twisting mound of thorny vines. She wanted a specific mixture, heady with pink, laced with white, and lightly touched with the much stronger red petals.

Thankful to happen upon such a bounty, she paid her deepest respects by taking time to smell each bloom before robbing the tiny stem of its glory.

A small twig snapped from the booted weight placed upon it an instant before a large warm hand clamped over her pale mouth, pulling her back against a broad chest.

Fear did not seize her. She simply waited for the coming voice to match the rare scent she had already identified.

“Not even a little fight?” he whispered, close to her ear. “I wasn’t expecting a battle to the death, but I had imagined at least a small struggle, or perhaps a muffled scream.” Gráda gently kissed the side of her head. “Bore da, wee moon.”

She waited patiently for his hand to slide away before she spoke. “Bore da, Brother.” She smiled without turning. “I didn’t know you had followed me, no. But I
have
tasted you. Sneak up on me you may, scare me you cannot.”

Gráda turned her around to face him. The innocence in those sparkling snowflakes drifting upon calm black pools, was a balm for his burdened soul. Marveling at her milky white features, how dainty and fragile she looked—large doll eyes in a porcelain face—coming tears threatened to choke out his words. He tenderly ran the backs of his bent fingers down her colorless cheeks.

“I never wish to scare you, Milady.” He lightly touched the tip of her nose. “The King wouldn’t want the Princess wandering about on her own. Not these days. Not in these parts. I believe he promised you a good tanning if you did thus again. Did he not?” He wrapped both arms around her waist. “Perhaps I should exact your punishment myself. What do you think, wee lass? Should I spank your lily white bottom by command of the King?”

“Do you believe you can, Lord Gráda?”

He pulled her closer. “I would very much like to try.”

“Remember you not our last little encounter?” She smiled. “Don’t make me regret sparing your life, Milord.”

He released her, chuckling. “How can I ever forget, gray lady?” He playfully flipped one of her curls. “You damned me and redeemed me with nearly the same breath.”

“As it should be.” She spoke absently as she went back to gathering the soft little petals she couldn’t wait to start boiling. “I do not wish to make unnecessary ripples, Lord Gráda. I fear things haven’t always gone so well for me on that front.”

“Unnecessary ripples?” He plucked off some blood red petals and sprinkled them in her basket. “What does that mean?”

“Hmm?”

Gráda heard her questioning response, yet the lovely woman’s focus was only upon the dainty blooms she obviously coveted. He knew she wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Do you even realize what you just said?” he whispered. “Or that you even spoke at all?”

She didn’t acknowledge him. She seemed in another world.

Perhaps
, Gráda thought.
Perhaps she isn’t real. Perhaps her body is in this realm while her soul dances upon another. Mayhap she stands whole, yet balanced upon a precipice, teetering upon the edge of our world and hers. If she falls, I pray it’s in my arms she lands. I could make her happy. Every day I would worship her smile, determined it should never leave her lovely face.

He stared at her ghostly profile, glowing in the muted rays of the breaking dawn. She was a breathtaking vision—terrifying and glorious. Gráda couldn’t help himself, he had to touch her, it felt unnatural not to. He slowly reached for her delicate chin, quickly dropping his hand when he heard the approaching footsteps.

“You had both better be glad
I
was the one sent to fetch you. Luag would have scolded you severely, Princess. And I don’t even want to
think
about what would’ve happened to you, were it Brian or Finnean coming out here to collect you.”

She smiled at the warm voice and turned to give a slight bow to the now blushing Eògan.

“Your father and
your
King…” He cut his eyes toward Gráda. “…woke in anger at your repeated absence, Milady. He ordered Luag fetch him a proper switch. I promised to return you, unharmed, if he would stay your punishment.”

“A switch?” She started to giggle. “My punishment? The old giant seems to be taking this whole
only daughter
thing a bit too far. I am not a babe, Lord Eògan. And I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Gratitude for all your concern, but I’ll be just fine.”

Gráda took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “I can personally vouch for that.” He lightly placed her captured hand over the now healed scars upon his chest. “But you err on one part, enchanting Liadan.”

“And which part would that be, good Gráda?”

“There’s no denying it, Gealach. You are most definitely a
babe
.” He winked at her, playfully.

Eògan cleared his throat. “Don’t use such language with King Brodder’s daughter. Mind your manners, Lord Gráda. She is your royal Princess. Save your filthy talk for the red houses.”

“As you say, Lord Eògan.” He gave the other warrior a sideways glance and smiled wryly. “Deepest apologies, Princess,” Gráda said as he bowed low and kissed her hand before turning, heading back alone.

What are the red houses?
she thought.

“Have you acquired all you need, Milady?” Eògan asked shyly.

“No, my gentle flaming warrior. I have not.”

His cheeks took on a fierce crimson glow at her enduring reference. It made her smile.

“Tell Father I will be along shortly. I’ll be needing many more petals if I wish to sate my desire.”

Jenevier returned to her aromatic task, leaving the fumbling man at a loss for words.

“But… Princess…”

“Fear not, good Eògan. The sun has risen now. And I have already been seen to by no less than
two
of his trusted generals.” She spoke without turning. “I know the way back home, Brother. I’ll be there shortly.”

Knowing not what else to do after her gentle dismissal, Eògan dug one booted toe into the moist ground before he turned, walking slowly back the way he had come.

“Overly protective brothers can be so tiresome,” she absently grumbled. Her hands stilled mid-pluck, she froze.
But… how would I know that? What in the world would even give me such a thought? I was first blessed with brothers only yesterday, and have claimed a father for but a fortnight.

Her mind teased her with snippets of a past it refused to release, held it safely locked away, maddeningly so.

She was still lost in troublesome thought when warm lips lightly touched her cool cheek. She smiled.

“Shall I be forced to entertain my entire new family while I labor amongst these thorns?”

“Only the rarest, most beautiful blossoms are protected by thorns.” Finnean gave her another quick peck before he started helping with her glory-stealing task. “I closed my eyes last night with the hopes of getting to gaze upon your sleeping face this morning, Princess. Are you always so late to bed and early to rise?”

“I know not, Lord Finnean. These past few days with Brod are my only reference.” A gentle smile spread across her face, reaching all the way up to her eyes. “Prior to his healing lullaby, I cannot recall if ever I slept, or when I woke, or even if I dreamt. Only my new life with my giant friend is what fills my warming heart. Perhaps I was newly born when first he found me.” She chuckled softly at the idea.

“You mean… perhaps you were created and tossed from the heavens but a few days ago?”

She turned then, staring into his hauntingly pale blue eyes. “Perhaps you’re right, fairest amongst my brothers. Yours is the most likely scenario.” She brushed a wisp of snowy hair back that had fallen free of his long braid. “Wonder why I was discarded?” she mused. “Did my creator find me so impossible to love, that he tossed me aside before even blessing me with a spark of color?”

A single tear slipped from the corner of her still smiling eyes. The white-haired warrior caught it with a bent finger and placed it on his tongue. His lids fluttered closed, relishing in this tiniest taste of her.

“That’s not what I said, nor was it the intent of my words.” He looked deep into her questioning eyes. “It is not possible you were discarded, Milady. More appropriately, you were your creator’s rarest treasure. He was taking extra care with you, ensuring the perfection you now claim. He was basking in your rare beauty, minus color, relishing the elegance you exude.” The mesmerized look on her angelic face caused him to tremble inside. “A jealous rival came from the shadows as you slumbered,” he whispered. “A pirate of beauty, he stole you away in the night, only to lose his grip upon you during his hurried escape.”

When Finnean’s strong arms slid around her waist, pulling her to him, she absently dropped her basket of treasured petals. Jenevier’s eyes slowly closed, relishing the sensation as the tip of his nose traced along her brow line before it came down dangerously close to her waiting lips. There was something about this rare man above all the others that threw her off balance. He
undid
her… inside.

“White warrior, I unbound you from my vile heart,” she whispered. “No longer are you shackled to me. My contemptuous curse no longer claims a hold over you.”

“Your heart is not vile, wee Princess. And it’s not your curse that claims me. Yet, I am claimed all the same.”

She slowly opened her eyes, meeting his adoring blue gaze. Those eyes, coupled with that glistening hair, vainly pulled at her buried memories. She was lulled by the look of him. Something about this warrior brought her a sense of trust, of peace. She felt safe, treasured.

“Is this how you play with women, Lord Finnean? Is this why my father warned me not to be alone with you?”

“I cannot be the same man our good King spoke of. Not when I come near you, Milady.” He lightly traced the edge of her lips with his fingertip. “The man he described is a contemptible fool in your presence—that devilish stealer of hearts.”

His sweet breath, coupled with his soft touch… melted her,
completely
. She nearly swooned in his strong arms, the thought of honeysuckles filling her mind.

“Yes, I have known many women,” he whispered. “And perhaps, many of them loved me. Yes, I know how to be
that
man. I know him well. Alas, you never will, tiniest moon.”

Jenevier caught her breath, steadying herself. “Did you come here to brag about your former conquests, snow warrior? Did you think such things would impress me, would woo me, have me melting in your arms?”

“Nay, just the opposite, Milady,” he said softly, almost cooing. “I wish to make confession to you. Two very different confessions, actually.”

“And they are?”

“To own my past sins against many hearts and swear an oath upon my honor not to repeat them.”

“I am not a holy man, nor am I a ruler,” she said. “Why would you wish to confess or swear anything to me?”

“Because of my second confession,” he whispered.

“Which is?”

“That you have smitten me wholly, laid claim upon my wistful heart.” He paused, a look of worship gleaming in his ice blue eyes. He smiled softly, gently. “Never have I looked upon a woman and wished her
never
to leave my sight, to always remain near me.” He twisted one of her curls around his finger. “Gealach, when you lifted that strangely tattooed hand and removed what you called
your curse
, when you unbound my heart, you caused a great change within me. One you’re not yet aware of.” He tightened his arm around her. “With your
unbinding
, my desire for you did not leave. Only the uncontrollable hunger driving said desire was washed away with your words.” His charming smile lit up his handsome face. “And then, an even more amazing thing replaced it.”

“And what was this amazing replacement, Lord Finnean?”