Page 85 of Bride of Mist
Afterward, in the soft glow of blithe discovery, Feiyan clung to him. She had no regrets. This felt right. And she sensed it was meant to be.
Aye, they’d had questionable beginnings. He’d meant to massacre her clansmen. She’d meant to assassinate him.
But she could see now that had only been fate’s way of throwing them together.
Like her cousins before her, Feiyan had found The One.
This was the man with whom she would tie her fortunes. Build a life. Make the next generation of Rivenloch warriors.
It all made sense now.
That was why she’d been curiously unwilling to kill him. Why she’d persisted in following him. Why she was driven to help him resolve the tragedy that had caused him so much pain.
She was in love with him.
They belonged together.
It was such a relief just to be able to admit that. To surrender to the truth of what her heart had been saying all along.
All she needed to do now was prove it to him.
Joining him in this glorious paradise of fulfillment was a good beginning.
Spent and sated, she drifted off to sleep in that beautiful place. Locked in his embrace. Dreaming of a destiny that included Dougal mac Darragh.
As Dougal gazed down at the wee, fey-faced goddess still slumbering in the first faint light of dawn, he felt a twinge in his chest, as if someone had taken a keen blade and scrawled “Feiyan” across his heart.
Her name would be engraved there forever, he knew. She was the most unique and fascinating lass he’d ever met. In another time, in another place, he would have clung to her forever. Held fast to the magic between them. Never let her go.
How she could ever imagine she was invisible was a mystery. She was beautiful. Bright. Soft. Strong. And aye, as she boasted, stealthy.
He would have to be even stealthier when he left.
Hehadto leave her. He knew that now. Now that he was sober, standing in the clear light of day. He had to go before he did any more damage.
He should not have succumbed to lust. He should have protected her against her own unwise desires. And by all that was holy, he should never have stolen her maidenhood.
Feiyan would deem him a coward for leaving. And perhaps she would be right. A better man would stay to face the consequences. Acknowledge his failing and suffer the punishment for ravishing a daughter of Rivenloch.
But more than just his life was at stake. He wasn’t just Dougal. He was mac Darragh. He might not possess the title of laird, but he was responsible for his clan.
With the king so close, with blame directed at mac Giric, with Rivenloch bearing down on his home, he couldn’t afford the luxury of surrendering himself when he was the only one who could save Darragh from harm.
It was best for Feiyan as well.
If he remained, if he admitted his crime, her honor would suffer.
She didn’t deserve that.
By his leaving, none would ever learn of their indiscretion. She could keep it a secret. Eventually she would marry—a noble and courteous knight who’d never question her virtue. A decent man who’d give her a happy life and lots of children. And she’d forget all about the Westland knave who had stolen her innocence on a warm spring night.
He let out a shuddering breath. In his bones, he knew leaving her was the right thing. But in his soul…
He would never forget her.
He would never forget the wee outlaw dangling from his snare.
The sultry Siren removing his boots.
