Bronwyn held her stomach. She was bleeding profusely. Cian knew it was only a matter of time. They were trapped. There was fire at their back and an army behind the only doorway out. He held his sister close to his heart. Beck was still fighting, but he was shielding it from his brother. Cian would have known if his twin was dead. He wondered if Beck would die when he did. Would Beck feel it when the soldiers outside burst in and shoved cold iron through his gut?
Cian’s hands shook, but he didn’t let his sister see how scared he was. He needed to be strong for her. There was a knife at his side. He wasn’t a warrior, but he would use it to defend her. He had killed a man with it already. The soldier who had stabbed Bronwyn hadn’t been content with taking her life. He had to try to rape her as well. Now his corpse was cooling not ten feet away. Cian tried not to think of him. He focused his being on the sister he was losing.
“Love you, brother.” Her smile reminded him of the five-year-old girl who had followed him around like a puppy.
“I love you, too,” he choked the words out. Meg felt wetness on her face and realized Cian was crying.
Bronwyn’s eyes went dull just as the door exploded inward. Cian looked up, clutching his sister. He was ready to join her.
Beck stood in the doorway, covered in blood. He held a bloody sword in his hand.
“We have to go,” he said with dark eyes.
Then the images came rapidly. The gun that was Cian’s brain suddenly went into machine gun mode. She couldn’t keep up. She was in a forest running from soldiers who had been sworn to hunt the twins down and execute them. She ran from plane to plane. Then she was building this cottage with Cian’s hands. Refugees were everywhere. There was not enough food to feed them, and they looked to Cian and Beck.
A smoke-filled image invaded Meg’s brain. Liadan stood by the bed, whispering to Cian. He tried to get up, but the smoke was too much. It was time to fade.
It was too much. It was too fast. Meg felt the moment her brain shorted out. She barely made a sound as she slipped into a blissful darkness.
Cian Finn came to on the bed of the cottage he had built. He was disoriented. It seemed to be morning, or maybe afternoon. He shook his head. It was afternoon, he decided as he studied the shadows on the walls.
He felt magnificent. His head was clear. How long had he been like that? It had been a nightmare of chaos. The clarity in his brain was bliss after the long pandemonium he had been living in.
Cian sat straight up in bed. Meg. She had bonded with him. It was very difficult for him to sort through everything that had happened in the last few years. He was certain now it had been years since he began the long slide into chaos. He might never get those years back, but he remembered Meg. Meg was the one clear thought in his head.
She was his wife.
Cian felt a moment of pure panic when he saw her lying so still on the bed. Her legs were underneath her at an odd angle. For a moment, he was sure he had killed her, and he knew his life would be over, just as he had gotten it back. Then her chest rose slightly. She was alive. She had survived the onslaught that bonding with him would have caused.
Gently, Cian opened the bond between them. It was new, but Cian was impressed with the strength of it. Her mind was tired, but functioning. She was in a deep, dreamless sleep. Her brain needed respite.
He leaned down and pulled her legs into a more comfortable position. She sighed and rolled toward his warmth as though she knew he would protect her. Cian grinned as she cuddled closer to him.
If he hadn’t just put her through hell, he would consummate his marriage in the physical sense. He would roll her onto her back and get between those pretty thighs of hers. He would ride her until they both passed out from the exertion. She was his. He had seen down to her soul. He knew she was perfect for them.
As she had gone through many of the important events of his life, he had gone through hers. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled her sweet smell. So many people had disappointed her. How could they not have seen how wonderful she was? Sure she was quiet, but her mind was quick, and she had the most delicious sense of humor. She was sassy and independent. Her sensuality had been completely untapped and unappreciated by the men in her life. Cian wouldn’t make the same mistake. He was considered to be the smartest man of his generation. He had no intention of proving dumb when it came to his wife. She was an amazing gift.
Cian’s hands clenched as he thought about the last little scene that had played out in his head. He was going to kick his brother’s ass when he returned. He was an idiot, that other half of him. Beck had made Meg feel worse than that worthless ex-husband of hers.
She was exhausted. Her entire body was relaxed as she slept so trustingly in his arms. Cian would make her see how beautiful she was. He would have to be careful, though. His brother had dug them a deep hole. Beck had taken her body, but had refused to share his soul with her. It was selfish, and Cian intended to have a long talk with him about it. She was their responsibility. They had to fulfill all of her needs, and Beck would have to see that her needs were different than the women they had grown up with. Meg wouldn’t want to be a perfect little princess on a shiny throne. She needed to work. She needed to contribute. She needed to be valued for all the things that made her unique.
“T à mo chroì istigh ionat,” he whispered. My heart is within you…
He was just about to kiss his sleeping princess when he heard a knock at the door. Curious, Cian gently rolled away from his wife. He reached for a shirt and walked to the front of the house.
A small brown woman was gingerly opening the door. She was dressed simply in a dark, threadbare skirt and linen shirt, with a colorful shawl around her thin shoulders. Her big feet were bare. Her head was a mass of scraggly, wiry hair and her own thick skin. Her eyes were huge in her small face and black as a moonless night. She was beautiful to him. Flanna was a brownie. The brownies had been domestic help on his home plane.
“Beckett.” She squinted, turning her elderly eyes up at him. He immediately got to one knee so she could inspect him. She had been his nanny throughout his childhood. It hadn’t taken him long to get taller than the brownie who took care of him, but he always showed her proper respect. His throat closed up at the thought that he hadn’t really seen her for years. She walked up to him with a smile that showed her gaping teeth. “I am glad you changed your mind, son. It’s a mistake to leave your wife alone right now.”
“She isn’t alone, Flanna,” Cian said, emotion welling in his heart. “She has me.”
Flanna’s jaw dropped, and she looked at him with wonder. “Cian?”
“Yes, little mother,” Cian said. “I assure you, it’s me. How long was I gone?”
Huge tears welled in her black eyes. “Years, Cian,” she confirmed as she drew him into her motherly embrace. “I thought you would die soon.”
“I did, too.” He hugged her gently, taking great care with her fragile body. “I am so sorry, little mother. I got lost.”
Tears coursed over her cheeks. “Where is she? Where is the Queen?”
Cian smiled broadly and wondered if anyone had even mentioned that part to Meg yet. He doubted she knew she had become the true Queen of the Seelie Fae. “She’s asleep. The bonding was hard on her. From what I can tell, everything’s been hard on my Meg, including Beck. You should know, little mother, I intend to thrash him soundly when he returns.”
Her foot started tapping. “That will be the day, Cian. I think you’ve forgotten which twin you are if you think to fight your brother.”