The Betrayal - By Ruth Langan Page 0,64
what about what I want?” When he didn’t answer she gave a sigh. “I want you, Grant. Only you. And this.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to press her mouth to his. “Only this.”
He’d thought he could resist. But the moment her mouth was on his, he felt the jolt of need, hot and demanding, and answered with a slow, deep kiss that had his head spinning, the ground beneath his feet tilting wildly.
Against her lips he murmured, “How could you possibly want me, Kylia? I’m weak, my love.” He drew back. “A weak, mortal man. It’s another thing you’ll surely regret one day.”
“There will be no regrets.” She drew herself against him, needing to feel him in every part of her body. “Not now, not ever.”
“Oh, my love.” He rained kisses over her eyes, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, before once more claiming her mouth. “How did I ever live before you? Promise me, no matter how foolishly I behave, you’ll never leave me.”
“I promise you.”
“And I promise you that I will love only you, my sweet, beautiful Kylia.” He gathered her close and pressed his mouth to her temple, breathing her in.
Overhead, the stars began dancing across the sky in a glittering display of fireworks. At their feet, Wee Lad lifted his head to the moon and, for the first time in his young life, howled.
As the two of them drew a little apart, Grant said with a laugh, “I see that here in the Mystical Kingdom you have some unusual ways of announcing things of importance.”
“Aye. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind?” He chuckled, low and deep in his throat. “I thought about shouting it from the treetops. But your way is much better, my love.”
He caught her hand, and with the wolf bounding at their feet, they turned back toward the cottage, to share their news with the others.
Epilogue
The little party stood in a circle, each of them holding a candle. The moon was a fat golden globe in the midnight sky. The night air was sweet with the scent of roses.
Dougal stood beside Grant, his hand on his shoulder, watching as Kylia, accompanied by her sisters Allegra and Gwenellen, stepped out of the cottage and began to cross the meadow toward them.
She wore a gown of white gossamer that could have been spun by angels. Her thick black hair, entwined with wildflowers, drifted about her face and shoulders like a silken veil.
When she reached Grant, he took her hands in his and was stunned not only by the heat of her touch, but by the look of love in her eyes. A look so deep, so dazzling, it had his heart stuttering.
The two of them turned toward Wilona, who laid her hands over their joined hands.
“To all things there is a season. A time to live. A time to love.”
Hearing the familiar words, Kylia felt tears sting her eyes.
“Speak now what is in your hearts.”
Grant’s voice was strong, rich, as he smiled down at his bride. “I’d thought I could deny my love for you, in order to spare you the hardships of my world. But I can no more deny you, my love, than I could deny my own life. I love you, Kylia, of the clan Drummond. I will cherish you for my lifetime, and beyond.” He removed a small pouch from his tunic and opened it to reveal the jewels he’d once plucked from the Enchanted Loch. “With these stones I pledge my love and my life.”
As they spilled into her hand, they seemed to flow like liquid tears, pale and luminous as the stars overhead. Then, while some mysteriously danced in her hair, others formed a circlet around her throat, held in place by nearly invisible strands of fine gold.
Kylia blinked away her tears, for she wanted nothing to mar her view of this man’s face, as she spoke from her heart. “I have known you for all of my life. My friend, my love, my husband. I will be with you forever, in this world and the next.”
Wilona lifted her hands over their heads in a blessing. “Now you are no longer two, but one. One heart. One love. One will. You no longer have two families, but one. Go now, and make your life together. But remember always that you have a home here in the Mystical Kingdom. The ones you leave behind will be awaiting your visits.”
They turned to accept the