Page 38 of A Celtic Vow
He understood what she wanted, pleaded for, but somehow despite the scent of her arousal hitting his inner dragon, his human half found the strength to hold her at bay, and he pulled back. Found the strength to wait until she was entirely herself again rather than under the influence of any lingering magic.
“We should eat and get some rest,” he managed. The storm had made landfall, and wind swirled down around them. “Then go from there.”
While he saw the flicker of confusion in her eyes at him denying her, it was for the best. He wanted to make sure she really wanted this.Him. Because if they were together, it would be impossible to let her go. How could he when she was bound to be as addictive in the flesh as she was within the mind?
To that end, because this would be her first time, she deserved it to be strictly between her and the man she finally allowed betwixt her thighs. Nothing else. Certainly not because of magic from another life or even this one influencing her.
“Thank you,” she said so softly he barely caught it. He did catch her gratefulness within lust, though. She appreciated his patience. That he had stopped it from going any further just yet.
He was about to lead them back in the direction they had come when he realized her magic revealed another route. One far easier to navigate back to the cave.
“I almost don’t want to sheath it,” Constance murmured as they sat back down, and she stared at her dagger. “That if I do, it’ll....” She trailed off when a golden sheath appeared over the blade. “Temper the magic....”
“Yet it does not,ta?” he guessed when her pupils flared.
“No.” She looked from the sheath to him. Saw something even he didn’t realize at first. “How could it when my magic is guarded by you...or should I say your dragon? Better yet, protected by him?”
How, though? As they went on to discuss everything that had happened, both before and after Cian and Madison came together, they still couldn’t figure out how it all tied into her blade being hidden in darkness at the root of this tree, nor the golden sheath. Or how his dragon had anything to do with it.
He mentioned having seen black roots, so mayhap it was all connected to Siobhán somehow, considering her black root chapel? If so, how? Because what they felt from the blade as day turned into evening and the storm raged was nothing but good.
No evil was connected to it.
They ate, drank, and talked, sometimes trying to figure everything out, other times simply chatting about normal things. What her life had been like in the twenty-first century. What his life had been like growing up. It turned out she wasn't just religious but superstitious, too. So said the little piece of driftwood she carried around for luck.
“What makes it a good luck charm?” he wondered, eyeing the unexceptional bit.
“Well, for starters, it saved my life the day I found it.” She shrugged. “Or at least that's how I looked at it.” When he frowned in confusion, she shared how she had cut her foot on it, so she was unable to go swimming. “Minutes later, someone nearly died in a riptide in that very location. Had it been me in that water at such a young age, I would never have survived it.” She smiled at her driftwood fondly. “Plus, it looks a little like a husky which was my favorite kind of dog at the time.” She winked. “Still is.”
“Then I could not be more grateful to a piece of wood despite it hurting you.” He cocked his head in curiosity. “So, has it continued to bring you luck?”
“Well, I’m here with you, aren't I?” she said softly, eyeing him in a way that made it difficult to concentrate. “I’d say that's pretty lucky, all things considered.”
He tended to agree.
As much as they wanted to, they didn’t kiss again, nor did he touch her. Not even when they eventually lay down, and he pulled a fur over them.
“Thank you again,” she murmured sleepily, rolling on her side to face him. “For everything today...and for this.”
He lay on his side facing her as well and perked his brows. “This?”
“Yes.” She wrapped her fingers with his. “For taking things slower than either of us wanted.”
He issued a small smile. “Slow when we’ve only known each other a few days that we know of?”
“That we know of,” she echoed. Her eyelids drifted. A small smile ghosted her mouth. “Despite us both knowing it’s been far longer.”
He made to respond but kept quiet when her eyes lingered on his for another drowsy moment, then slid shut. Within seconds, her breathing slowed, and sleep took her.
Just like that, he was lost yet again.
In the way her fingers clenched slightly around his as though making sure he was still there. By how her face became even more angelic. How she almost seemed to glow as tiny snowflakes floated around them but never seemed to touch them.
While tempted to run his fingers along her soft jawline, then far more, he held back and simply enjoyed watching her because it was a pleasure unto itself. From the sweet sound of her breathing to the way her eyelashes fluttered every so often. How the corners of her lips twitched as though she smiled in her dreams.
As if mayhap, to his fanciful mind, she smiled at him.
Eventually, he must have dozed off because everything shifted around him. Not in a jarring way but in a gentle way that intrigued both his human and dragon. He sat up and watched him and Constance as children.
