Her mark pressed against his and she felt the wetness of her tears before a blinding flash knocked her back.
“So, my insolent warrior, you’ve met your match at last.” The voice was weird, like three women talking at the same time. It rang like a hundred church bells inside her head.
“Curse you, Morrigan! Have you come to torment me more?”
“Are you not deserving of such torment?”
“Aye, but Ciara is not. She has done nothing to merit such treatment.”
“So you would protect her?”
“With my life.”
Ciara did not like where this was going, but when she tried to speak, to defend Declan, she found herself unable to talk. She couldn’t move a muscle except to breathe.
“What if I could give her her true heart’s desire? I have the power to fill her womb with a babe.”
“What would be the price?”
“She would discard you as you did my priestess.”
Suddenly, she had the power to move, but shock froze her. This goddess, hidden in a flash of light, could give her a baby? But only if she lost Declan?
“You are cruel,” Declan rasped out.
“Not cruel, just.”
“No,” Ciara burst out, finally able to speak. “I will not reject him to satisfy your sense of justice. I love him.”
“So did my priestess, but he spurned her love and her child.”
“That was a thousand years ago. And she chose to take her life and that of an innocent child instead of sucking it up and moving on. Don’t you think she should share some of the blame? Maybe if she hadn’t been such a psycho, when Declan came back from the battle he might have at least provided for the baby, even if he didn’t love her.”
“You dare much, mortal.”
Ciara’s muscles were frozen once again.
“Leave her alone. I will not forsake her, nor she I.”
“Even if it means you will suffer my curse through eternity?”
Declan looked at Ciara. She still couldn’t move so she tried to show all her love for him in her eyes.
“Yes. I’ll take what time I have with her and be thankful.”
Relief ran through her body. He wasn’t going to give up on them either.
“So be it.”
The flames of the candles around the room shot to the air, scorching the ceiling and sending the smoke detector peeling. The power flashed and then went out and Ciara’s limbs were freed of their paralysis.
For a second, the only noise was the alarm blaring, then Declan let out a deep breath. “Well, that’s done.”
“Thank God. Or goddess. Whatever.” Ciara got up to take the battery out of the alarm. As she climbed out of the bed, she saw his chest and gasped. “Declan, your mark. It’s gone!”
His chest was bare, without even a scar where the mark had been. He lifted her wrist.
“Yours too. What does that mean?”
“Maybe your curse is gone?”
In her haste to reach him, she bumped into the nightstand that held the wine glasses. The fragile crystal tumbled and Declan lunged to catch them before they hit the floor. The glasses smashed together in his hand and sliced his palm open.
Almost instantly, blood began to drip from the slice.
“Hold on, let me get a towel,” Ciara said as she carefully stepped away from the broken glass.
“No worries, this is only a minor wound. It will heal in a minute.”
“Well, you’re covered in wine, so I can at least clean that up.” She grabbed a hand towel from the bathroom vanity and skirted the glass on the floor to get back to the bed.
“Let me see.” She reached for his hand.
“It should be almost gone—” Declan stopped mid-sentence and Ciara knew why.
Blood still welled from the cut in his palm.
“How long does it usually take to heal?”
“From something like this? Less than a minute.”
They both watched the clock by the bed. Ciara lifted the towel to see blood still oozing from the cut. The second hand ticked by. One minute passed. Then two. By the third minute, Ciara needed another towel.
Declan let out a whoop and jumped out of bed. He wrapped his good arm around
“So, my insolent warrior, you’ve met your match at last.” The voice was weird, like three women talking at the same time. It rang like a hundred church bells inside her head.
“Curse you, Morrigan! Have you come to torment me more?”
“Are you not deserving of such torment?”
“Aye, but Ciara is not. She has done nothing to merit such treatment.”
“So you would protect her?”
“With my life.”
Ciara did not like where this was going, but when she tried to speak, to defend Declan, she found herself unable to talk. She couldn’t move a muscle except to breathe.
“What if I could give her her true heart’s desire? I have the power to fill her womb with a babe.”
“What would be the price?”
“She would discard you as you did my priestess.”
Suddenly, she had the power to move, but shock froze her. This goddess, hidden in a flash of light, could give her a baby? But only if she lost Declan?
“You are cruel,” Declan rasped out.
“Not cruel, just.”
“No,” Ciara burst out, finally able to speak. “I will not reject him to satisfy your sense of justice. I love him.”
“So did my priestess, but he spurned her love and her child.”
“That was a thousand years ago. And she chose to take her life and that of an innocent child instead of sucking it up and moving on. Don’t you think she should share some of the blame? Maybe if she hadn’t been such a psycho, when Declan came back from the battle he might have at least provided for the baby, even if he didn’t love her.”
“You dare much, mortal.”
Ciara’s muscles were frozen once again.
“Leave her alone. I will not forsake her, nor she I.”
“Even if it means you will suffer my curse through eternity?”
Declan looked at Ciara. She still couldn’t move so she tried to show all her love for him in her eyes.
“Yes. I’ll take what time I have with her and be thankful.”
Relief ran through her body. He wasn’t going to give up on them either.
“So be it.”
The flames of the candles around the room shot to the air, scorching the ceiling and sending the smoke detector peeling. The power flashed and then went out and Ciara’s limbs were freed of their paralysis.
For a second, the only noise was the alarm blaring, then Declan let out a deep breath. “Well, that’s done.”
“Thank God. Or goddess. Whatever.” Ciara got up to take the battery out of the alarm. As she climbed out of the bed, she saw his chest and gasped. “Declan, your mark. It’s gone!”
His chest was bare, without even a scar where the mark had been. He lifted her wrist.
“Yours too. What does that mean?”
“Maybe your curse is gone?”
In her haste to reach him, she bumped into the nightstand that held the wine glasses. The fragile crystal tumbled and Declan lunged to catch them before they hit the floor. The glasses smashed together in his hand and sliced his palm open.
Almost instantly, blood began to drip from the slice.
“Hold on, let me get a towel,” Ciara said as she carefully stepped away from the broken glass.
“No worries, this is only a minor wound. It will heal in a minute.”
“Well, you’re covered in wine, so I can at least clean that up.” She grabbed a hand towel from the bathroom vanity and skirted the glass on the floor to get back to the bed.
“Let me see.” She reached for his hand.
“It should be almost gone—” Declan stopped mid-sentence and Ciara knew why.
Blood still welled from the cut in his palm.
“How long does it usually take to heal?”
“From something like this? Less than a minute.”
They both watched the clock by the bed. Ciara lifted the towel to see blood still oozing from the cut. The second hand ticked by. One minute passed. Then two. By the third minute, Ciara needed another towel.
Declan let out a whoop and jumped out of bed. He wrapped his good arm around
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