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“Believe me, I have no desire to draw Guin’s attention,” he offered coolly. She gave him a tight smile and waved. “I’m so glad you’re away from that awful place. Please be safe while we’re gone. One of us will be back soon.” His deep brown eyes caught mine, narrowing a fraction. What could he have been thinking? Did he want me to stay away? Or was he merely curious about whether I’d come in her place? His ability to guard his thoughts was impressive. The Irish weren’t exactly known for being levelheaded. I was used to everyone wearing their emotions on their sleeves. If we felt angry or happy or the littlest bit miffed, you’d better believe we’d let everyone know. But Fenodree? He existed behind a thick wall of one-way mirror, allowing him to see out and block the world’s view. The only way to get a glimpse behind the curtain would be to spend time with him. To observe him and get to know the little pieces he allowed to be seen. I wanted to collect them all, and maybe then, the puzzle would take shape. I couldn’t wait to come back to Strabane. OceanofPDF.com Chapter Three OceanofPDF.com FENODREE Considering the recent unexpected turn of events my life had taken, I wondered if the gods were toying with me when I opened the door, and my eyes landed on a ginger-haired woman. Rebecca introduced her companion as Cat, but all I could see was Hilde. Red coiling curls piled on top of each other in a battle for dominance framed her delicate features. Her creamy skin was dotted with freckles, and her eyes were the vibrant green of freshly sprouted spring leaves. Much greener than Hilde’s had been. Cat was petite and familiar in so many physical respects, but it quickly became evident that the similarities between the two women were purely superficial. Cat's eyes had a haunting innocence that my Viking warrior had never possessed. Cat was demure where Hilde was brash and bold, but the visual reminder of my prior life was still unsettling. When she set off my wards, my first thought was that she had been sent by the queen to torment me. What were the chances someone bearing such a striking resemblance to my past would wander to my doorstep? Someone touched by magic, no less. My reaction had been involuntary. I sensed a threat and had to subdue it. What I did not expect was the undisguised vulnerability shining in her eyes despite my attack. I was not in the habit of seeing emotion or any sign of weakness in those around me, but hers was on full display. No anger or revulsion. Every vibrant expression on her face was painted in shades of purity and innocence. I could not recall ever meeting anyone like the young woman, even before my exile. The first time I laid eyes on Hilde, she was clad in leathers, alone on a rocky shoreline on the Nordic coast. She would have preferred death over being forced to wear a frilly dress, nor would she have kept to feminine chores like cooking or stitching. In the crisp morning hours, I found my Hilde masterfully wielding an axe to chop a mountain of piled wood. Her red curls, as disobedient as she, sprang free from the simple braid she had plaited to contain the unruly locks. I approached from behind, and though I could not see her face, that first sight of her was a vision I would never forget. She reminded me of the Valkyrie soldiers Queen Guin had amassed as her personal guard. The all-female Fae warriors were impressively fierce, and this human woman would have easily been their equal as she chopped at a stack of wood with single-minded ferocity. She never turned in my direction nor hinted at her awareness of my presence. Captivated, I watched for some time before her sultry voice called out to me. “You watch me with the eyes of a hawk. Am I to be your prey?” Her steady voice was calm but firm, and only after she finished did she slowly swivel her head to where I stood in the tree line some distance behind her. She kept the axe clasped in her deceptively strong hands and stared at me with challenge in her eyes. As if she wasn’t already beguiling enough, the sight of her face solidified my fate. High cheekbones and full lips were the perfect feminine complement to her rugged apparel and fearless demeanor. I was hopelessly ensnared in her thrall. “The hawk does not eat the fox. It is his worthy adversary, as they are both hunters after the same prey.” I had spent some time in the Nordic lands and quickly picked up the language. I might even have passed for a local had my dark coloring not marked me undoubtedly as a foreigner. “Equals?” she asked with cautious curiosity, turning the rest of her body to face me. She was not particularly curvy, but something about seeing her in men’s leather trousers made my own pants suddenly too tight for comfort. I simply nodded, not trusting my voice to keep from going guttural with want. Her chin lifted a fraction, and the corners of her mouth curved up. “If they are equals, they should work together, and they could catch twice the prey in half the time.” I could not help responding with a grin as I retrieved my own axe from where it hung off my pack. She did not flinch as I approached, placed a log on the stump she was using, and sliced my axe down with resounding force. We worked together in companionable silence, just our grunts and the thwack of our axes filling the crisp air. Once each log in her pile had been reduced to the appropriate size, she tossed her axe to the ground and walked to the rocky shoreline where she sat facing the sea. I followed her lead, sitting at an appropriate distance so as not to alarm her.
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