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“And you wanted me in a relaxed state.”
“Forgive me if what I did was duplicitous.” His fist closed over the stone. “I was uncertain it would even work.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Oh, it worked. I’m one blink away from ending up in an unconscious stupor.” To be honest, I wasn’t certain he needed it. Dagda’s rich voice might have calmed me on its own. I patted the space on the bed next to me. “Come. Sit and sing the rest of the song. Without the stone.”
His head dipped in a nod. Then he turned and opened my bedroom door. “Place this in my quarters,” he said, handing the small rock over to the faerie standing guard, before returning, shutting the door gently behind him.
He approached, pausing at the bedpost without moving. Something on edge lurked beneath his gaze and his body stiffened, a darkness entering his expression.
The struggle within him spiraled into me.
“I thought you weren’t afraid of me,” I said.
He stood there even longer. Hesitation roiled through him. “May I search you for weapons?” he asked.
An understanding passed between us. Badb had scarred us both.
“Yes, Dagda,” I said.
He came around the bed, and it gave under his weight. He watched me like I was a viper ready to strike as he lifted his hands and placed them on my ankles, moving them from out to in. Then he slid them up a little farther on the outside of my lower legs and made the movement again, out to in. He stopped at my knees.
“This is how it will be up your body,” he murmured. “With your permission.”
I raised my arms above my head like I’d seen on some criminal show. “Go ahead.”
His hands continued upward, on my thighs, out to in. On my hips, on my stomach. As his fingers moved over my nightgown, he’d pause to straighten out the cloth as if he were ever aware of the propriety of what he was doing.
I found my breaths deepening, my heart rate picking up as his strong, warm palms slid higher, shifting upwards, drifting across the underside of my breasts and then brushing around them and up to my collarbone and out to my shoulders and over my arms.
“All clear?” My skin felt hot and flushed. I tried not to think about how he leaned over me, how close his face lingered, how my eyes drifted to his lips, a tugging in my stomach waking me from my drowsiness, daring me to lift my face to meet his.
He stood and walked around the bed before sitting again, lifting his legs onto the covers and took in a slow deep breath.
“Are you ready?”
I fought to keep my voice steady. “Please. Sing.”
I’d gone to the Pacific Ocean once. I remember it being cold and windy, but even that didn’t drown out the crashing waves as they swelled relentlessly over the wet sand. Slamming down, and then ever so gently pulling back in a soft caress. That is how Dagda’s voice rolled out, washing over me as his deep somber tone filled the room.
The young maiden fair she breathed eternal,
And the land gave endlessly,
While her lover, his days were numbered,
A human mortal life lived he.
When the fair maiden proclaimed her love,
Friends and family wept her name,
And declared death should be his lot,
Should she dare him as her oncemate claim.
And so the young maiden made her choice,
Into the night she did go,
