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years, not mere seconds.
“You know what it means,” Cian replied, looking more serious
than Meg remembered him ever being. “Look at the fields, brother.
Look at the fields, and tell me the legends were wrong.”
Meg turned with Beck and gasped as she took in the lush fields
that had replaced the struggling ones. Crops that shouldn’t be
harvested for a month were ripe and ready to be picked.
“Someone needs to explain this to me,” Meg said, since her
husbands seemed to be speaking their own language.
“It’s an old legend, Meg.” Beck bent over as he inspected a
particularly luscious strawberry plant. “Back in Tir na nÒg, the
legend had it that when royal symbiotic twins were born, if they found
the right bondmate, she would bring them into their true power.”
“So now Ci is some sort of agricultural deity?” Meg asked.
It was hard to believe the question came out of her mouth, but she
was starting to accept that things worked very differently in her new
home. She’d negotiated a trade deal with goblins just a few days ago.
Why couldn’t her new hubby become a god?
260
Sophie Oak
“I’m a Green Man.” Cian spoke slowly, seeming to savor the
words. “All things green and vital answer to me.”
A wind suddenly whipped around Meg’s skirts. It was an odd
wind. It was strong and seemed happy to stay where it was. Meg
turned around and had to catch the hem of her skirts as the wind blew
from underneath and exposed her legs.
“What the hell?” Meg moved to Cian, who was laughing at the
wind’s antics.
“And I’m a Storm Lord,” Beck said. Wonder filled his voice as he
lifted a finger and the little wind calmed. It brushed gently against her
