Curse And Craving

61

“This outlier stone is believed to be related to sunrise and sunset. It’s marked with what appears to be replicated constellations, and at sunrise on Beltane, the stone aligns perfectly with the tallest pillar on the westsouthwest portion of the circle. While there may have been an alignment for the winter solstice, the deterioration of the stones makes it impossible to say for sure. There’s much we don’t know about the stones, such as the cup marks on the stones, and the biggest mystery is who created the circle and how they got them here.” We all followed his lead back inside the large circle as he continued. “It’s the common belief of the locals that the stones were put here by the Aos sí—the people of the mounds. They have many names—the fair folk, the Tuatha De Danann, and as they are more commonly called, Faeries. Legend says that they warred with the Milesians, another mythical race, and eventually agreed to retreat and dwell underground in the mounds.” He lifted his arm to indicate the rolling hills around us. So that was why Cat’s mom stayed away from the circles. If the Fae created them, she’d want nothing to do with them. How silly of me to think I could take a break, no matter how short, from my new Fae reality. Hopes of a distraction were lost as my eyes raked over the countryside, and I wondered just how much truth there was to these particular legends. I couldn’t see Lochlan and the others living underground. Movement in a distant cluster of trees caught my eye. A large white wolf-like dog sat back on his haunches and watched our group. There didn’t appear to be any homes nearby, but there also weren’t fences. If he belonged to someone, he’d strayed some distance. We were likely the most exciting thing to happen out here in the quiet countryside all week. He watched us as if we were as fascinating an attraction to him as the stones were to us. With a quiet chuckle to myself, I turned back to join Cat. After Riley finished his explanatory tour, he answered questions, and we spent time examining the stones up close. On our way back to the car, I was amused to note that the dog was still watching us from afar. He was a beautiful beast. I’d always wanted a dog, but my dad had been allergic. Having a housemate might not be a bad idea at this point—a guard dog sounded especially appealing—but nothing as large as the white wolf. I couldn’t imagine he’d even fit in my tiny place. I chuckled at the thought and folded myself back into the car. We drove to the nearby town of Strabane, where we entertained ourselves sightseeing before checking into a hotel. I’d picked the place for its authentic atmosphere and quaint little pub on the lower level. It had been an excellent choice, and after a delicious Irish dinner and a day of travel, we were both exhausted. We waddled back to our room, watched a few minutes of television, then called it a night. My body might have been exhausted from the busy day, but my mind had other ideas as it bounced from one odd dream to the next. Somewhere along the line, I passed through a doorway to find Lochlan standing in a small room. His deep blue eyes assessed me questioningly, and his short blond hair was tousled in a way that made me want to run my fingers through it. I was aware that I was in a dream, which wasn’t usual for me. I’d heard of people who could manipulate their dreams, knowing on some level that it was just a dream, but I’d never experienced that sort of freedom. Not until now. Peering at the bedroom around us, I recognized that it belonged to a cabin I had stayed in years before with my boyfriend at the time. Wood paneling gave the room a rustic feel, while a fluffy white duvet softened the look. The place was warm and inviting and a world away from all my current troubles. When my eyes turned back to Lochlan, he was no longer wearing a shirt. He looked down at his toned bare chest, almost in surprise. A nervous giggle slipped past my lips. The sound drew his deep-blue eyes back to mine, pinning me in place with their intensity. All levity disappeared, and the air emptied from my lungs. This was my opportunity to overwrite the memory of Ronan’s fake Lochlan. To create a scene in my mind that wasn’t tarnished with betrayal and pain. This was my mind’s way of healing. “What is this, Rebecca?” dream Lochlan asked. I shook my head. “No questions. No arguments. This is how it should have been.” I stepped closer, my gaze slowly devouring the solid planes of his chest before dropping farther to the delicious V peeking from the waist of his faded jeans. It was too tempting. I had to reach out and trail my fingers along the ridges of his rippling muscles. “Fuck.” The curse was a feral growl—my only warning before he tugged me close, and his lips slammed down on mine. Lochlan didn’t just kiss; he possessed. The sensual roll of his tongue. The gentle nip of his teeth. The branding touch of his hands holding me tight. His perfect siege overwhelmed my senses and commanded compliance. He lifted me in his arms and moved us to the bed, lowering us down to lay his large body over mine. I took a shallow breath and reveled in the woodsy scent that was all Lochlan. Nothing artificial would suit him. He was unabashedly himself in every way without desire to conceal or modify himself for anyone’s benefit. He embodied the truest sense of confidence without slipping into arrogance or conceit. I slid my pajama shirt over my head, wanting to be just as bare and honest as he was for me. His gaze raked over me, unabashedly taking in every curve and valley of my exposed body. One of his hands trailed over my ribs before cupping my breast. His deft fingers gently twisted one of my pebbled n*****s, drawing an electric bolt of pleasure that zinged from my chest down to my core. I arched off the bed on a breathless gasp, not given time to recover when his mouth closed over the angry peak.