“Fine,” she breathed as her eyes lowered to her hands. “I suppose you will know eventually. What is the use in trying to delay your reaction?” she murmured to herself. And then with four words, she upended my whole world. “There is a cabin.”
I was not sure what I was expecting, but I could see it clearly now. The quaint cottage in the autumn woodland against a backdrop of mountains. I could smell the herb garden where a female knelt in a wide brim straw hat and a mulberry dress that had fallen down one pale shoulder. Waves of long dark hair cascaded almost all the way to the ground beneath her and hid her face as she collected her harvest in a handwoven basket.
Yes, there was a cabin. The one I had been dreaming about and using to meditate through the worst moments of my life forhundreds of yearsbefore Nualawas born.
“That is not…” I tried to speak, but I could not force out the words as I suddenly recalled the peels of laughter. The laughter ofchildren…
“No,” I blurted, nearly bolting up off the mattress in my distress. “That isnotpossible.”
Nuala merely raised her sorrowful eyes to me as if she had known this would be my reaction. I sat in a stupor as she rose from the bed and left the room with Éadrom.
It took hours before I was able to focus on my work after what Nuala revealed, but I was finally making headway on the paperwork. I had asked Darragh to take the witch to the bathhouse, which was not something I would have assigned toanyoneelse. But in the many centuries I had known Darragh, the demidragon had never shown even a modicum of interest in sex. And even more importantly, Nuala had assured me that she trusted him to take her.
She had since returned to the yurt, and it was quiet in the front room until I heard Carrick asking Nuala for my whereabouts. Expecting him, I tossed my feathered pen in the ink vial and leaned back to stretch my shoulders and neck as he parted the curtain to my chamber.
“May I come in?” he asked, and I waved him forward wordlessly.
Carrick let the curtain fall back into place behind him, his eyes roving over the messy room as he walked over to where I was sitting. Then his eyes fell upon the plate of untouched food he’d brought me earlier, and he frowned. But before berating me, my uncle jerked his head toward the curtain. Knowing what he wanted, I heaved a sigh and erected a silencing ward using Darragh’s air magic.
“I am afraid to go near Sage’s tent. I hoped you could tell meif he is feeling better?” he explained sheepishly.
“Giving them privacy is wise. He was well enough to ask the rest of us to keep Ornella shielded,” I advised him significantly.
“Ah! That is… good,” he said with a discomfited nod that made me smirk. “And how areyoufeeling?”
“Me?” I blurted in surprise.
“It was clear to me and your aunt that you were upset at the meeting with the Sua. I have been meaning to come and speak to you about it but… Well, things have been rather difficult at home,” he admitted sheepishly.
He had been mourning the loss of his son and had little energy to spare, which was understandable. But I had not forgotten his admission that I took a significant toll on him whenever we had these kinds of discussions.
“I am alright,” I tried to reassure him, but as usual, Carrick saw right through me.
I sighed when my uncle instantly moved to sit on the edge of my desk. He was close enough that I had to scoot my stool away from him just to be able to meet his eyes, but he did not speak. He merely crossed his arms over his chest and waited for me to continue talking.
“Carrick, I know this is exhausting—”
“I never said that!” he interrupted sharply, but then his face softened. “I am sorry that I made you feel that way. But I do believe I also told you that I am usually willing to help you work through your feelings,” he pointed out.
His sincerity was unquestionable, but his willingness to support me was never the issue.
“Stubborn!” he sighed in exasperation when I turned my face away from him. “I could assure you a thousand times that I want to help you, and you still will not trust it. And yet it takes only once for you to believe—”
“She is my mate,” I blurted, taking him off guard.
“What?” he gaped at me and then cocked his head as if he thought he might have misheard.
“Nuala is my mate. She isdreíocha.”
Carrick was silent for an uncomfortably long moment as he stared at me. He’d always had excellent composure whenever I needed to confide in him, but this seemed to have genuinely stunned him.
“Dreíocha,” he repeated cautiously. “Do you mean the female descendants of Inanna? Ciaran told Sage a story about such creatures several years ago,” he recalled.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“Can she use… How do you feel about her as a mate?” he asked me tentatively.
It had not escaped my notice that his first concern was whether or not Nuala could use my magic, but I could hardly take offense. My power terrified even me at times, and in the wrong hands, it would be catastrophic.
