Page 59 of Celtic Love and Legends (Lords of Eire)

CHAPTER NINE

B y the time Conor and Padraigan entered the cottage, the fire was burning low in the hearth and everything was quiet. Poking his head into the smaller room that contained the small bed, he found Destry and the boys asleep.

“Eat something, great lord,” Padraigan whispered, indicating for him to sit at the table.

Conor was exhausted, but he realized that he was also very hungry. With everything that had happened, it hadn’t even occurred to him until now. He pulled up one of the little stools and sat heavily, watching Padraigan bring bread, cheese, and a big, steaming bowl of something to the table. She had dished it out from a big iron pot that sat tucked back in the hearth, and he smelled it suspiciously, trying to figure out what it was.

Padraigan watched him anxiously. “Is it not to your satisfaction, great lord?”

He half shrugged, half nodded. “What is it?”

“Fowl,” she told him. “It is cooked with grains and greens.”

Conor figured he had nothing to lose by trying it. He tore off a big hunk of the rustic, very brown bread and dipped it into the stew. He didn’t count on it being delicious. It was basically a thick chicken and barley stew with peas and something white, which he thought might be turnips. He couldn’t really tell. But it was hearty and tasty, and very salty, and he ended up eating about a half-gallon of the stuff.

Padraigan also produced boiled eggs, smaller and denser than modern eggs, and he ate a dozen of those as well. Along with the loaf of dark bread and half-pound of cheese, Conor polished off a significant meal. He washed it all down with a very tart wine that gave him a pretty decent buzz.

Exhausted, and full, he sat at the table and burped as Padraigan cleared away the remainders of his meal.

“Go and sleep tonight, great lord,” she told him, pointing to the room where Destry and the boys were. “We will speak again in the morning.”

Conor didn’t argue. His mind was muddled and he couldn’t think any longer. He just wanted to sleep for a while and forget all of this madness. Maybe it would all be gone when he woke up in the morning.

But as he rose from the stool and stood in the doorway of the smaller bedchamber, he sincerely wished that he wasn’t dreaming. He didn’t want to wake up and find Destry a figment of his imagination.

It was dark in the room, but he could see the layout of the group—Destry was on the bed with the mattress of leaves and branches, sleeping on her left side and turned away from him. Mattock was curled up at her feet, while Slane and Devlin were sleeping on her left. She was lying so that her right arm was protectively around both boys.

Conor stood there a moment, watching the tender scene, feeling warmth and contentment in his veins. What was it Destry had said to him? I know my children. Apparently, she did. It was obvious in everything about her. He knew his children, too.

He also knew his wife.

He was dressed in jeans and the heavy shirt and jacket. He quietly pulled the jacket off and laid it on the ground near the bed, then pulled off the shirt as well. It landed on top of the jacket. Lowering himself to the floor, he removed his shoes, his socks, and finally his belt. They all ended up with the jacket and shirt. Quietly, he lay down beside Destry in a moment he would remember for the rest of his life.

She had taken off the jacket and sweater she had been wearing earlier, and was now clad only in her jeans and a lightweight long-sleeved shirt. The moment he lay down next to her, she took her arm off the boys and turned around to face him. Conor wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against his naked chest. He could feel her face against his skin, her breath hot on his chest, and his physical reaction was almost instantaneous. He wanted to bury himself in her softness and never let go.

He pulled her closer.

“Are you sure you’re okay after all of that?” Destry whispered.

“I’m fine,” he murmured.

She pulled her face out of his chest and gazed up at him in the muted light. “I saw that scratch on your back,” she whispered. “I should probably take a look at it.”

He looked into her sleepy face, wanting very much to kiss her. He was buzzed from the wine, that was true, but his feelings for her had nothing to do with alcohol. He was in love with her. He’d always been in love with her. It was something that grew stronger by the minute.

“It’s nothing,” he assured her. “I can’t even feel it. You can look at it in the morning if it’ll make you happy.”

“You don’t know for sure that it’s nothing,” she countered. “What the hell was that thing, anyway?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea,” he said. “Padraigan called it a snake with teeth. It looked like something prehistoric to me.”

Destry’s eyes were fixed on him. “Is that even possible?” she asked. “A dinosaur?”

He shrugged. “Legends abound from this time in history,” he murmured, caressing her back, feeling the texture of her hair. “There were all sorts of legends of creatures. It’s possible that there was some basis for that, creatures that somehow survived millions of years only to be made extinct by Dark Age Man.”

She pursed her lips. “You saw the proof with your own eyes,” she hissed. “You killed the damn thing. What if there are more of them?”

He sighed faintly. “Then I’ll be killing a lot of lizards, I suppose.” He winked at her when she frowned. “Right now, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to sleep.”

She let him pull her back against him, cuddled up against his enormous chest. But her eyes were open, staring into the darkness as she felt his warmth wrap all around her.

“Do we even know what time period this is?” she said. “Did you ask the sorceress?”

She felt him sigh. “I asked her a few questions and was able to determine that Gofraid is the king of Dublin right now.”

“When did he reign?”

“He ruled from 934 AD to 941 AD, so we’re somewhere in that time span, I would guess.”

She lifted her head again, looking at him with shock. “The Dark Ages?”

“More like the Middle Ages.”

The shock didn’t leave her expression. “Then we’re really here. We actually went back in time somehow.”

“After what I’ve seen today, I would agree with that statement.”

“Are you scared?”

He shrugged. “I think I’m curious more than anything. But that big snake with teeth… that thing scared me.”

“Me too.”

Hearing that somehow brought it all home for Destry. Whatever had happened to them was as real as it got. Somehow, someway, a door in time had opened up, and they stepped through it. It was fantastic to the point of being insane, but there was no other explanation.

Frightened and exhausted herself, Destry closed her eyes and fell back against him.

Conor knew she was upset. He pulled her close, his lips against her forehead, kissing her gently to bring her some comfort. To his surprise, she lifted her mouth to his, and he latched on to her hungrily. As her arms went around his neck, he rolled her onto her back and kissed her deeply.

Destry responded to him passionately. With every second that passed, his kiss became more heated, and he licked at her lips before tasting her sweetness when she opened her mouth and invited him in. Her fingers were in his hair, which was still spiked stiff, matching him suckle for suckle as he moved his right hand down her torso and found a full breast. She had such a delicious little body that he just couldn’t help himself.

Rather than flinch from his touch, she lifted up her shirt and unhooked her bra at the front. Conor’s hand came into contact with the heated flesh of her naked breast, and he groaned softly in excitement, feeling the nipple harden in his palm. He was trying to stay quiet; God help him, he was desperately trying. There was a four-year-old and an eight-year-old just a few feet away, and he didn’t want to wake them. But he couldn’t stop himself from exploring Destry, something that was becoming less like exploration and more like reacquainting. Even as he fondled her soft breasts, it was as if he already knew their texture and softness. He already knew her body.

He had to taste her.

He moved his hot mouth to a nipple, and Destry had to slap her hand over her mouth to keep from making noise. As Conor furiously suckled, Slane suddenly moved in his sleep, rolling into his brother and sending them both sliding off the bedding. The boys ended up in a little heap on the floor, still halfway on the blanket, and Conor and Destry froze, watching to see if they’d wake up. But both boys were sleeping so heavily that they weren’t even aware of the fact that they had rolled right off the bed.

Conor grinned at Destry, who waggled her eyebrows. Then she latched on to Conor’s mouth and kissed him hotly.

Their passion took flight, and clothes began coming off in the darkness. Conor left her breasts and yanked off her jeans, planting himself between her legs as he worked his mouth across her flat belly. The smell of her, the taste of her, was feeding his frenzy, and he moved his right hand from her breasts to the junction between her legs. So far, she wasn’t flinching from his touch—in fact, she seemed to be encouraging him. He could feel her squirming beneath him, and it excited him like nothing he had ever known. When he reached her inner thigh and he realized that her pubic area was completely waxed, he groaned with excitement.

“Shh,” Destry whispered, her hand over his mouth.

Conor kissed her fingers, one by one, before descending on the pink folds between her legs. Destry’s knees came up at the delicious sensation, and a moan escaped her lips.

“Shh.” Conor grinned as he put a hand over her mouth.

She rewarded him by sucking on his fingers, stroking his index finger with her tongue as he performed oral sex on her. Driven beyond endurance by her heated tongue and sexy body, Conor sat back on his heels and lifted Destry onto his waiting erection. He didn’t want to grind her tender back into the rough mattress, so he sat on his heels while she straddled his lap. As the boys around them slept like the dead, Destry wrapped her arms around his neck, straddled his thighs, and gave herself over to him completely.

The scent of their lovemaking stirred strong, buried memories. She began to recall innumerable nights like this, wrapped around the man she loved, feeling his power deep within her. She began to recall the depth of her feelings for the man, the love and adoration she felt that was more powerful than anything that had ever existed. She found his mouth, feeling his goatee scratch her tender lips but loving the sensation. She kissed him deeply as he thrust into her, knowing that, at last, she was finally where she belonged.

“Oh, Conor,” she breathed into his mouth. “I love you so much.”

His arms tightened around her. “I’ve never loved anyone else but you, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips. “You are my heart and soul. I will always love you, in this life or the next.”

They made love deep into the night.

*

The next day, Conor awoke at daybreak because he heard Padraigan moving around in the great room.

He blinked, struggling to orient himself because he didn’t recognize where he was at first. He didn’t recognize the mud walls or sloping roof. But he quickly realized that Destry was in his arms, sleeping the sleep of the dead pressed up against his warm body, and the events from the previous day and night flooded his mind. He remembered Dowth, the flight to Padraigan’s cottage, the snake with teeth… everything.

Most of all, he remembered the feel of Destry, and his limbs grew warm at the thought. He’d never known anything so passionate, satisfying, or erotic. It was as if he was finally and completely whole. As long as she was with him, as long as he had her love, he could move mountains.

Another thing he quickly realized was that they were both quite naked. He felt rather bold and caddish having made love to her in the presence of sleeping children, but there wasn’t much he could do about that in hindsight, so he carefully disengaged himself from her with the intention of looking for his pants. But she groaned when he moved, and he put a hand over her mouth, silencing her when she opened her eyes.

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing her nose. “The boys are still asleep.”

She was still half-asleep herself. “Where are you going?”

He kissed her again and slowly moved to sit up. “I need to find my clothes,” he whispered, spying his jeans next to the bed. “I’m without a stitch on. And so are you. If the boys wake up and find us like this, we’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”

Destry blinked, rubbing her eyes as she looked around. The boys were still dead asleep, but she realized that Conor was correct—she was stark naked. She sat up, her arms covering her substantial breasts.

“Oh, brother,” she said. “Where are my clothes?”

Conor was fighting off a grin as she tried to cover herself up. But her double-D cup breasts could hardly be contained by her slender arms, and he lost himself for a moment, burying his face in the delightful cleavage. She gasped, giggled, then groaned softly as he moved her right arm aside and suckled gently on a peaked nipple.

“Conor, don’t,” she gasped, her face in the top of his head.

He lifted his head, kissing her lips. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I got carried away. You seem to have that effect on me.”

She grinned at him, quickly feeling hot and horny as he played with her nipple. It wasn’t so much a want for him but a need; she needed the man more than she could comprehend. Her body was crying out for him, having been denied for the months and years and centuries of their separation, and last night had evidenced that.

Now that she had reacquainted herself with him, fragments of memories about the man and her love for him returning, she had to make up for lost time. She slanted her lips over his, plunging her tongue into his mouth, and Conor fell back on the bed, taking her down with him. This time, however, she climbed on top of him, straddling his belly as she ferociously kissed him.

Conor could feel her naked body against him, her wet heat rubbing against his belly, and it was all he could take. He was intoxicated with her. He cupped her buttocks, and when he thrust a finger into her, she groaned into his mouth and pushed her pelvis against his finger, simulating intercourse. Conor groaned softly in return, as wildly aroused as he had ever been in his life, then lifted her up and planted her onto his fully engorged erection. He could feel her warm tightness as she slid down over him, accepting his sensual intrusion into her body.

Destry drew away from his mouth as she sat up, taking his hands and placing them on her breasts as she began to ride him. Knees on the ground, she rolled her hips forward and plunged as he fondled her breasts, her head back and her long hair tickling the tops of his thighs. Twice, she started to groan, and twice, Conor put his hand up to gently cover her mouth, reminding her that they didn’t want to attract any attention. What they were doing was between the two of them—her supple and shapely body welcoming his power deep inside her as it had so many times before, in so many forms. At the moment, there was only the two of them, re-experiencing something they had both sorely missed. It was a rebirth.

Destry plunged down on him, again and again, hearing him hiss with the pleasure of it. Conor watched her as she made love to him, marveling at her beauty and perfection, before sitting up and pulling her against him, suckling her nipples as she continued to ride him. Destry was so highly aroused that in little time, she was climaxing, wave after wave of pleasure rushing over her as Conor repeatedly thrust himself deep.

He felt her orgasm throbbing around him, and he answered by releasing himself deep into her body, taking so much pleasure with it that he bit his lip. He could taste the blood. But he still continued to move, feeling her multiple orgasms that ended up reducing her to a quivering shell in his arms. Her entire body was throbbing against him, and he moved his mouth slowly over her neck and shoulder as the tremors eventually died away.

Destry remained straddled on his lap, weak and limp, as he held her close. He could feel her heart thumping against him. Her hair was in her face, all over his shoulder, and as he loosened his grip, she lolled back. Her head rolled back as well, and Conor grinned as she remained lifeless and boneless in his arms. He leaned forward, kissing her neck, the swell of her breasts, and eventually a soft nipple. When he suckled her tenderly, her head came up.

“No,” she whispered, pulling his head back. “Not again. We really should get dressed before these kids wake up and catch us.”

He grinned up into her half-lidded face. “I’d rather do this.”

She grinned in return, a delightfully sleepy gesture. “Me too,” she whispered, “but we’re going to have to wait for more privacy. We’ve already risked being caught twice, and I really feel dirty having done this in front of these kids, but…”

They had let their lust get the better of them, and they both knew it, but there was something so overwhelming about feelings they were awakening that it seemed to supersede all else.

Conor sighed in agreement, in disappointment, realizing their bodies were still fused and lifting Destry up by the waist to withdraw from her. But the moment he did so, another orgasm washed over her, and she threw her head forward, biting off her cries on his shoulder as a powerful climax surged through her body. It was unexpected and deliriously sweet. Her teeth pushed into his pale flesh, leaving a mark.

Conor couldn’t control himself, and he lowered her back down onto his semi-erection, grinding his pelvis against her as he greedily soaked up the last few tremors of her orgasm.

Breathlessly, Destry tried to stop him, but she couldn’t quite get the words out of her mouth in time before he withdrew from her again and caused yet another orgasm. Her face ended up in his shoulder again as she struggled not to scream, but when Conor went to put her on his erection again, she prevented him. They could go on all day if they didn’t stop, because the experience was like nothing either one of them had ever known, something magical and emotional that went beyond a physical need.

It was magic.

“Are you okay?” Conor finally whispered.

Destry nodded weakly. “Uh-huh.”

“Can we get dressed now?”

She lifted her head wearily, smiling. “What’s stopping you?

“ You are.”

“Complaining?”

“God no.” He rubbed his nose tenderly against hers. His eyes locked with hers, and, for a moment, they just stared at each other. “Any regrets?”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He pulled back to look at her, his dark blue eyes intense with emotion. “Because I love you. I’ll love you until I die.”

She smiled, moving a soft hand to his rough cheek. “I love you too.”

He stared at her, a smile eventually coming to his lips. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but nothing has ever felt so right. The moment I saw you, I knew I loved you. I’ve always loved you.”

She leaned forward, kissing him sweetly. “It’s so strange,” she said as she pulled away. “Pieces of memories are coming back to me, but I really can’t figure out if it’s because I’m imagining them or because they’re truly memories from some past life. But the memory of you… it came back so strongly last night. The moment you touched me, I remembered you. I remembered everything, and now I can’t seem to let you go.”

He nodded. “I know what you mean,” he whispered. “The second I touched you, everything came flooding back. Your taste, your scent, your curves… everything.”

She smiled at him, her hand on his cheek, rubbing his stubble as she gazed at his face. He was such a handsome man.

But before she could say anything more, Padraigan suddenly entered the small doorway, her arms full of clothing. Unimpressed by Conor and Destry’s naked state and the fact that Destry was still straddling Conor’s lap, the little sorceress went to the bed and dumped the pile.

“Your clothing, great lord.” She turned to the pair. “I managed to salvage some of it when Geric confiscated the Cashel. I have these possessions and more. After you dress, I shall show you.”

Destry was wrapped up in Conor’s enormous arms, so she wasn’t entirely exposed, and Conor was sideways, so he wasn’t providing a completely naughty display, but they were both very uncomfortable with an audience to their nakedness. More than that, it was readily apparent what they had been doing. If Padraigan had been in the next room or even the next county, she would have easily heard them.

But the sorceress seemed unconcerned. She rummaged through the pile and pulled out some kind of white robe. She turned and held it out to Destry.

“My lady?” she said. “May I assist you?”

Destry didn’t have a clue what the woman was saying. She looked to Conor for help, and he took pity on her. Destry had no recollection or knowledge of a former language. It had made the situation particularly disorienting, but, so far, she hadn’t complained about the communication barrier.

“She wants to know if she can help you dress,” he told her.

Destry lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Thank her, but tell her that I’ll dress alone.”

Conor relayed the words, and Padraigan laid the robe back on the bed and quit the room. When she was gone, Destry jumped up and went for her bra and panties, which were in a silky pile next to the bed.

Conor watched with great appreciation and admiration as she slipped on her lacy panties followed by the lacy white bra. She had a fabulous body, the most beautiful he had ever seen. His hungry gaze moved up her silky thighs, lingered on the lacy panties, before moving up her torso to her full breasts. He was thinking very dirty thoughts again as she bent over and picked up her jeans.

He stopped her. “Wait,” he said quietly. “If we’re going to be stuck in this time, the last thing we want to do is stand out. We need to blend in, and that’s not going to happen if you wear those jeans.”

She looked at the jeans in her hand, nodding when she realized he made some sense. Her gaze moved to the flowing white robe that Padraigan had laid upon the bed. Jeans still in hand, she moved over to the garment and observed it with some doubt.

“All right.” She sighed heavily as she folded the jeans up and set them aside. She picked up the white robe, realizing it was like a giant, flowing muumuu. It was very soft, and she rubbed it against her cheek, looking at Conor with a grin. “It’s soft. I think I can wear this.”

He smiled in return, his gaze once again trailing down the curve of her back and coming to rest on her delicious buttocks. He just couldn’t help himself. He stroked her rounded butt cheek, squeezing it, before bending over to nibble at it.

Destry giggled and pulled away from him. “Come on,” she said. “If you keep doing that, we’ll never get dressed.”

He waggled his eyebrows in resignation and stood up. Destry burst into snorts of laughter when she saw that he was semi-aroused again.

He pursed his lips with mock fury as she laughed. “It’s not funny,” he told her.

She continued to giggle softly as she pulled the dress over her head, immediately loving the feel and fit of it. It clung to her beautifully, as if made for her. As Destry smoothed at the garment, she realized that it had been made for her. Running her hands up and down the arms, noting the texture of the fabric, she glanced over to see Conor examining the leather pants that Padraigan had left on the end of the bed. He had pulled his boxer-briefs on, so he wasn’t completely nude as he stood inspecting the stitching on the inseam of the pants.

Curious, Destry went to see what had him so fascinated. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head, riveted to the stitching. “Nothing,” he said. “I was just looking at the craftsmanship on these breeches. The leather is sewn together with very fine strips of leather. It’s really remarkable.”

Destry tried hard to see what he was looking at, but, as she wasn’t a scientist like he was, it really didn’t mean all that much to her. So she bent over the end of the bed where Padraigan had laid the pile of clothing and began pulling out various garments. There was a long, dark green article that looked like a robe, a faded yellow one with beautiful beadwork around the neckline, and several others. She ran her hands over the material, seeing that it wasn’t like any material she had ever seen in her life. The green garment was made from wool, very fine, but the weave was uneven. The yellow garment was silk, she was sure, but it was also uneven, and the color wasn’t uniform. Everything was fastened with tiny hand stitches, and the hems of the garments weren’t sewn at all, but all things considered, they seem to be very well made.

As Conor pulled on the leather pants, Destry took the long green robe and put it on over the feather-soft dress she already had on. She was delighted to see that the long sleeves on the green garment had slits in them, allowing the eggshell-colored dress underneath to show through. The robe also had a belt with fine tassels on the end, and she tied it around her waist, emphasizing her slender torso and large breasts.

By the time Conor looked up from lacing the front of his leather pants up, the sight of her in the flowing robes made his heart leap in all directions.

“My God,” he breathed. “You’re a lovely creature.”

She was fussing with the tassels, looking up with a grin when he spoke. “Thanks,” she said. “I really have no idea if these are even supposed to go together, but they seem to. Am I wearing it right?”

He looked her over with his critical Celtic eye, having her spin in a circle for him. He nodded with satisfaction.

“There has never been another woman on this earth as beautiful as you,” he said decisively. “You’re spectacular.”

Her grin broadened. “You’re sweet; thank you,” she said, but her grin faded. “I’d love to shower and shave right now, but I’m guessing that’s not going to be possible.”

He shrugged, tugging at the leather breeches before he reached down into the pile on the bed and began hunting for a shirt of some kind.

“Probably not,” he replied. He found a woolen shirt, or what he thought was a woolen shirt, big enough to fit his frame and pulled it over his head. “There’s a whole host of things we need and don’t have. I need to talk to Padraigan to see where we can at least get soap and basic hygiene needs. What we can’t buy, I can make.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “What can you make?”

He shrugged again, straightening out the tunic. Destry moved forward to help him straighten out the back of it, smoothing the tunic against his very broad back.

“A toothbrush, for example,” he said. “They were made out of water reeds or green branches, something that frayed easily. We can make toothpaste out of soda and mint, all mashed together. Soap can be made from any number of oils that occur naturally and lye, or lotions from almond oil or beeswax. I promise that you’ll not do without, sweetheart. We’ll keep your skin soft and your smile bright.”

Her smile was back. “You can make all of that? Where did you learn to do it?”

He returned her smile. “Back in the early days when I was still going to college, I worked several Medieval fairs all around Ireland. Since I’m such a big lad, I was always some kind of warrior, but during those years I learned a lot about ancient processes with food and other things. I learned how to make soap, candles, certain medicines, things like that. It’s come in very handy to pass down to my students. I’m a walking dictionary for all things ancient.”

She sighed. “If I have to be stranded in the past with someone, thank God it’s you,” she said, watching him wink at her. “I have to tell you that I’m still feeling a little disoriented. What’s our plan of attack for this morning?”

Conor eyed the boots that Padraigan had dropped at the foot of the bed, massive things made from cow hide. He picked one up and began to inspect it.

“I’m not sure,” he told her. “I need to talk to the sorceress and try to figure some things out. Meanwhile, you can get the boys up and ready for breakfast.”

He was nodding toward the boys. Destry turned to see that they were just starting to stir. Little mouths were yawning. She shook her head, grinning.

“Now they wake up,” she commented softly. “We made so much noise last night and this morning that it would have awoken the dead, but those three slept right through it.”

Conor fought off a grin. “Thank God they didn’t wake up,” he muttered. “We didn’t need an audience for what we were doing, but I’m not sure I would have been able to stop had they woken up, so I’ll thank God for small mercies. The lads can sleep through anything.”

Destry was grinning because he was, and went to pull on her shoes, fancy modern sneakers with straps and rhinestones.

“I never grew up with brothers, so I can’t attest to boys’ ability to sleep through anything, but I know my sister and I were very light sleepers,” she told him as she slipped on a shoe. “We heard every little sound in the house.”

Conor pulled on both boots, inspecting them on his feet and realizing they were a perfect fit. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered, running his hand over the sole of the shoe. “These fit as if…”

He trailed off, and she sat down next to him on the foot of the bed, looking at the boots. “As if they were made for you?”

Her voice was soft, and he looked at her, feeling the weight of their situation settle, while he had been fairly detached from it since they woke up. For some reason, the boots seemed to bring it home. If he thought hard about them, he thought he might remember them somehow, like a distant dream just lingering below the surface.

Gazing into her bright blue eyes, he nodded with some reluctance. “Yes,” he murmured. “This just keeps getting weirder and weirder. These shoes fit perfectly.”

“And you’re surprised?”

“It’s not that.” He sighed. “I guess… I guess I’m just not as resigned to all of this as much as I thought.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s all so overwhelming,” he said. “Just when I think I’ve accepted it, something happens and I realize I really haven’t.”

“Like Dark Ages boots that were made for you?”

“Yes.”

She gave him a sweet smile and laid her head against his shoulder. “Don’t go to pieces on me now,” she said softly. “I can’t guarantee how I’m going to hold up if you don’t stay strong.”

He shifted, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He kissed the tip of her nose, her tender mouth. She was soft and delicious, and he was in the process of kissing her more deeply when Slane suddenly groaned, a grumpy little sound, and sat bolt upright. He rubbed his eyes, frowning when he saw Destry and Conor in a tight embrace. As they watched, he stood up, eyes still half-closed and a frown on his face, and wedged himself in between them.

Destry giggled while Conor was forced to let her go as the four-year-old plastered himself against her. She wrapped her arms around the little boy as he snuggled against her and promptly fell back asleep.

Conor shook his head and stood up, feeling the fit of the boots and clothing, acquainting himself with something that felt oddly familiar.

As if they belonged to him.

Padraigan entered the room again, this time with a bucket of water, which she handed to Conor. He took it, having no idea what to do with it, but set it on the broad windowsill as Padraigan moved to Mattock and Devlin, who were still sleeping on the floor. She shook Mattock by the shoulder before doing the same to Devlin. The boys groaned and stirred, rubbing their eyes and sitting up from a deep sleep.

Mattock blinked when he saw his father standing there in familiar clothing. His young face lit up with delight as Devlin, catching sight of the same vision, jumped up and ran to Conor, throwing his arms around the man’s waist.

“Dada,” the boy said, nearly weeping. “You’re really here. I thought I’d dreamed you.”

Mattock joined his brother, his face shining up at Conor adoringly. “Dada, will you ride with us today?” he asked.

Conor had one hand on Devlin and the other on Mattock, smiling at boys that he was increasingly convinced he’d fathered.

Like last night, the memories were coming back to him in pieces, but he knew for certain that they were recollections and not his imagination. The feelings associated with them, the emotion, were far too strong to be anything else.

“Ride with you?” he repeated, turning to look at Padraigan. “What does he mean?”

Padraigan smiled as she crouched on the floor, rolling up the bedding. “You would take your boys riding with you every morning, great lord,” she explained. “You would go about your duties, checking posts and meeting with your generals, and bring the boys. You said it was important for them to understand their duties to the land as well as to the people.”

By this time, Destry had stood up from the bed, the four-year-old still clinging to her. His little head was on her shoulder, his arms around her neck. Hugging the boy, Destry made her way over to Conor and the other two.

“What are they saying?” she asked.

Conor looked at her with the boy wrapped all around her and grinned, putting his hand on Slane’s back.

“He looks like a parasite.” He snorted.

Destry grinned. “He has no intention of letting me go.”

Conor’s eyes glimmered at her. “Neither do I.” He winked at her before glancing back at Devlin and Mattock. “In answer to your question, the boys wanted to know if I was going to take them riding. Padraigan said that it was something I would do with them every morning because I told them it was important for them to understand their duties to the land as well as to the people.”

Destry’s expression turned warm. “That sounds like something you would say. Call it a hunch, Conor, but I would guess that you were a pretty amazing king.”

His appreciative smile grew, but he was prevented from answering her as the boys began to clamor around him, grabbing his hands and pulling him from the small chamber. Destry followed with Slane still clinging to her, pausing in the open doorway, as Padraigan followed them out into the yard.

“You cannot ride, great lord,” she told him. “You would risk being seen.”

Conor turned to look at her, catching a glimpse of the burned body of the dragonlike creature near the crude stable. In the light of the new morning, he stared at it, being reminded yet again that he had awoken to a different place and time.

He drew in a long breath, resigning himself, forcing himself to focus on the situation at hand. He had no choice. The reality was all around him.

“So what do you suggest?” he asked. “I can’t hide out here the rest of my life.”

Padraigan was resolute. “I shall go into town and bring back your trusted men,” she told him. “They will counsel you on what has happened in Ciannachta since you have been away. Then you will know what you must do.”

He nodded simply because he couldn’t think of anything else to do. They just couldn’t hide in the woods for the rest of their lives. If he had a kingdom to rule, and people waiting for his triumphant return, then they’d better get about it.

“All right.” He waved her on. “I’ll wait here.”

Padraigan smiled. “Your men will be very glad to know you have returned. We have waited so long for this day.”

“How long?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Three hundred and sixty sunrises, great lord,” she told him. “We have waited a long time.”

Conor smiled because she was. Swiftly, she turned for the barn, instructing the boys on their chores while she was gone. Mattock and Devlin made unhappy faces but begrudgingly did as they were told, going to feed the chickens and milk the fat cow.

Conor stood out in the yard, watching the boys go about their duties. He could see Destry inside the doorway of the little cottage, brushing her hair with her fingers, as Slane, now out of her arms, followed her around by holding on to her skirt. Conor had to grin at the little boy who was attached to his mother like glue.

And then it struck him— his family .

If he’d had any shadow of a doubt before, seeing Destry with Slane, seeing the older boys going about their chores, and listening to a white witch speak of things so natural cemented into his heart and soul that this was where he belonged. As he’d told Destry, he’d always felt out of place, a man who didn’t belong in the modern world he was born into. Here he was now, and all things were as they should be. He had Destry. He had his boys. He had everything.

He was back where he belonged.

He turned around, holding out a hand to Destry. With Slane still clinging on to her skirts, she made her way to Conor, taking his hand. He held it tightly, kissing it as he composed his thoughts.

“What is it?” Destry asked. He seemed distant and pensive. “What’s on your mind?”

Conor grunted as he looked around. Then he sniffed the air. “Smell that?”

Destry sniffed too. She shook her head. “I smell trees.”

“Exactly,” he said. “No smog, no smells of the modern world. I suppose I had my doubts about this entire situation even until a few minutes ago, but walking out here, smelling the smells and hearing the birds and wind through the trees… I’m not feeling any more doubts. As much as I knew you belonged to me the moment I met you, right now, I feel like this belongs to me, too. I belong here. Whatever has happened to us, maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Like Padraigan said, maybe it really was magic. It was something that was meant to happen.”

Destry was listening to him seriously. “I guess all things happen for a reason,” she said with surprising acceptance; like him, she was coming to understand the reality of their situation. She looked down at Slane sucking his thumb and holding her skirts, and smiled. “I told you last night that I know my children. These boys are mine, and you are their father. I don’t know how this happened, but I’m not going to question it. After what we’ve been through the past day or so, I’m willing to take a few things on faith. So now what?”

He sighed, putting his arm around her, grinning when Slane pushed his way in between them and clung to Destry’s leg. “Now, we have a whole new world out there,” he said softly. “Just think about it—I’m supposed to be the king. You’re my queen. I’ve got an evil brother who’s stolen my throne. I want the damn thing back.”

Destry smiled at his animated speech. “I’ll help you.”

He looked at her, bending down to kiss the tip of her nose. “I think you already have,” he said. “I wouldn’t be here it if wasn’t for you. You brought me back, Destry. You gave me my destiny.”

She hugged him, trying not to squish the child between them. “Padraigan said that time and space couldn’t keep us apart,” she said quietly. “Whatever I did, I was meant to do it. We were meant to do it. But I think I’m a little afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid for you,” she said, gazing up at him. “Your brother went through a lot of trouble to separate us. He’s not going to be happy to see you. These guys have swords and stuff. They’re going to try to kill you.”

He grinned. “I told you that I can fight with swords, feet, fists, and anything else they throw at us,” he said. “You don’t need to be afraid, but you need to be smart. Listen to what I tell you and what the white witch tells you. I didn’t find you after a thousand years only to see you taken away from me again.”

Destry lifted her eyebrows in agreement. “Same goes for me,” she murmured. “You have no idea what it would do to me if you were killed. God, it sounds so scary even to say that. We’re facing a whole new world out there.”

He kissed her forehead. “New and deadly and beautiful,” he said. “We have the opportunity to shape the world, I think, or at least our little corner of it. Are you ready for it?”

Destry looked out over the green, green foliage, enormous trees reaching for the untamed sky, and the beams of light piercing their way through the canopy. There was such raw beauty to it, and when she gazed up at Conor, all she could see was her past, her present, and her future.

“I’m ready,” she said, laying her head on his chest as Slane begged to be picked up. “It sounds corny, but as long as we’re together, I’m ready for anything.”

“Me too,” he whispered. “I love you, sweetheart. Until the end of time, I will love only you.”

She smiled at him, a genuine and heartfelt gesture that sent his heart fluttering. “I love you too,” she whispered.

He kissed her and picked up Slane, who wanted to go with his mother and not his father. Conor handed the boy over to Destry just as Mattock and Devlin raced over to him, explaining that they had seen something magical and wonderful near the barn. Conor thought they mentioned a faerie of some kind, but he couldn’t be sure. The modern man, now ancient ruler, was ready for anything as he went to see what had his boys so excited.

This was his world, and he intended to master it as he’d done once before. This time, there would be no failure. He was back.

The high king had returned.