Page 104 of Shadow Spell

“I feel it.” He touched a finger to his heart. “I trust what I feel. Unlike you for instance.”

After an impatient glance she shoved out of bed. “I have to go to work.”

“You’ve time for a bite to eat. You needn’t worry as there’s not enough time for me to poke at you properly about my feelings and yours. But there’ll be time for that soon enough. I love you to distraction, Meara, and while it comes as a surprise to me, I’m happy being surprised.”

She grabbed up her clothes. “You’re romanticizing the whole business, and cobbling it all together with magicks and risks and blood and sex. I expect you’ll come to your senses before long, and for now, I’m using the loo, and getting myself ready for work.”

She marched off.

He grinned after her, amused he had such a fine view of her backside as she stalked through the door of the bath he shared with Iona.

He’d come to his senses, he thought—though it had taken most of his life to get there. He could wait for her to come to hers.

Meanwhile... He studied his healed palm. He had some thinking to do.

16

WOMEN WERE A CONSTANT PUZZLE TO CONNOR’Smind, but their mysteries and secret ways accounted for some of their unending appeal to him.

He considered the woman he loved. Courageous and straightforward as they came on all matters—except those of the heart. And there she turned as fearful as a trapped bird, and just as likely to fly off and away given the smallest opening.

And yet that heart held strong and loyal and true.

A puzzle.

He’d spooked her, no question of that, with his declaration of feelings. He loved her, and for him true love came once and lasted forever.

Still, as he’d rather see her fly free—for now—than batter herself against the cage, he roused Boyle.

Having Boyle go into the stables with Meara—earlier than either needed to be—accomplished two things. She’d have his friend with her, and the three would have some time to talk alone.

Rain blew across the trees and hills, shivered against the windows. He let the dog out, walked out himself, circling the cottage—as they’d done the night before—checking to be certain no remnants of Cabhan’s spell remained.

His sister’s flowers bloomed, bold, defiant colors against the gloom with the grass beyond them a thick green blanket. And all he felt in the air was the rain, was the wind, was the strong, clear magicks he’d helped light himself in a ring around what was theirs.

When he paused at Roibeard’s lean-to, the hawk greeted him with a light rub of his head to Connor’s cheek. That was love, simple and easy.

“You’ll keep an eye out, won’t you?” Connor skimmed the back of his knuckle down the hawk’s breast. “Sure you will. Take some time for yourself now, and have a hunt with Merlin, for we’re all safe for the moment.”

In answer, the hawk spread his wings, lifted. He circled once, then soared to the woods, and into them.

Connor walked around again, went in through the kitchen door—holding it open as Kathel came up behind him.

“Done your patrol, have you then? And so have I.” He gave the dog a long stroke, a rub along the ears. “I don’t suppose you’d go up and give our Branna a nudge to get me out of making breakfast?”

Kathel simply gave him a look as dry as any hound could manage.

“I didn’t think so, but I had to try it.”

Accepting his fate, Connor fed the dog, freshened the water in the bowl. He lit the fires, in the kitchen, in the living room, even in the workshop, then had to calculate he could stall no more, and got down to it.

He set bacon sizzling, sliced up some bread, beat up eggs.

He was just pouring the eggs into the pan when Iona and Branna came in together—Iona dressed for work, Branna still in her sleep clothes with that before-my-coffee scowl in her eyes.

“Everyone’s up so early.” Knowing the rules, Iona let Branna get to the coffee first. “And Boyle and Meara already gone.”

“She wanted to change, and promised Boyle she’d fix him some breakfast for taking her around.”

---