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Authors: Sophie Renwick
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ignored it. Tried to pretend she didn’t hear him in her thoughts, feel him in her heart.
He was an animal. A Sidhe. Had it all been a lie? The dream? The night in Annwyn when he had loved her so well? Could he even love a mortal?
She didn’t know what to think. How to feel. How to go on. She only knew that by returning to Annwyn she would only confuse matters.
Her heart was already engaged; it had been since she was six, when she first saw her hart drinking from the loch. He had been a presence in her life since then. She could not deny it. But what he was . . .
With a sigh, she put the pin down on the windowsill as she rested her head against the window. Annwyn was before her, calling to her. She could see it through the frosted panes and the snow. Her eyelids flickered as her gaze dropped to the pin. Of their own volition, her fingers reached for it, her breathing growing harsh, her vision growing hazy with sleep.
Yes. Come to me.
No. She must not. She could not return there. Could not allow herself to be lost in a world she didn’t know. A world she feared with a man who was not a man at all.
With one last look she rose from the seat and made her way to the lounge by the hearth. She would wrap gifts and forget about Daegan. She would continue on as though she had never met him, never tasted his kiss or experienced his touch.
Return to me.
No, I cannot.
You are mine, and you will come.
Her heart lurched, her body softening to the possessive sound of his voice. It was all she had ever wanted, to be loved and desired. Yet her mind warred with her body, with her need for Daegan’s touch. She was tired of being a pawn of men. First her father, then St. Clair. Now, Daegan with his commands.
If you want me so much, she challenged, casting a glance at the window, then you will have to come and take me.
Opening the door of Isobel’s chamber, Daegan found her asleep on the chaise before the fire. Surrounding her were presents wrapped in red and green and tied up with big, shining gold bows. It was Christmas for the mortals, and Yule for his kind. It was the birth of Christ the humans celebrated, and the birth of the sun god and longer days for his people. The sacred days for both celebrated birth, life, and joy. There was no difference in that, no great division between their kind. The humans worshipped the sun and prayed to their god. The Sidhe worshipped the moon and prayed to the nature gods. They were not that different. Yet how did he convince Isobel of that?
As he came closer to her, he realized that she was dressed for bed, her filmy nightgown, supposedly virginal, excited him. From somewhere deep inside, he felt the stirring of his demons. Passion, hot and scorching, rushed through his veins as his hungry gaze took in the picture of Isobel, her pale limbs outlined against the bloodred velvet while shadows cast by the fire danced across her creamy skin, rendering the silk dressing gown almost translucent.
Swallowing hard, Daegan approached the chaise, his eyes roving every inch of her, admiring her lush thighs, the roundness of her hip, the full, heavy breasts that strained against the ties of her gown.
He wanted her.
It wasn’t merely a need to make love to her or to kiss her senseless. He desired her with a possessive passion that frightened him. There was so much at stake, not only for Isobel, but for himself as well. He could not leave Annwyn. He would cease to exist outside his world. But living without Isobel was not a life, but merely an existence.
She had resisted the lure of the enchantment spell tonight. He had waited and waited, pacing the grove, knowing why she resisted the call, feeling her fears, her doubts. But it angered him. He had strengthened the spell, and still she did not come to him. And then he heard her challenge. He had not thought of anything after that. The animal in him took the challenge. He was ready to mark and claim— to mate . The Sidhe in him was willing to
He was an animal. A Sidhe. Had it all been a lie? The dream? The night in Annwyn when he had loved her so well? Could he even love a mortal?
She didn’t know what to think. How to feel. How to go on. She only knew that by returning to Annwyn she would only confuse matters.
Her heart was already engaged; it had been since she was six, when she first saw her hart drinking from the loch. He had been a presence in her life since then. She could not deny it. But what he was . . .
With a sigh, she put the pin down on the windowsill as she rested her head against the window. Annwyn was before her, calling to her. She could see it through the frosted panes and the snow. Her eyelids flickered as her gaze dropped to the pin. Of their own volition, her fingers reached for it, her breathing growing harsh, her vision growing hazy with sleep.
Yes. Come to me.
No. She must not. She could not return there. Could not allow herself to be lost in a world she didn’t know. A world she feared with a man who was not a man at all.
With one last look she rose from the seat and made her way to the lounge by the hearth. She would wrap gifts and forget about Daegan. She would continue on as though she had never met him, never tasted his kiss or experienced his touch.
Return to me.
No, I cannot.
You are mine, and you will come.
Her heart lurched, her body softening to the possessive sound of his voice. It was all she had ever wanted, to be loved and desired. Yet her mind warred with her body, with her need for Daegan’s touch. She was tired of being a pawn of men. First her father, then St. Clair. Now, Daegan with his commands.
If you want me so much, she challenged, casting a glance at the window, then you will have to come and take me.
Opening the door of Isobel’s chamber, Daegan found her asleep on the chaise before the fire. Surrounding her were presents wrapped in red and green and tied up with big, shining gold bows. It was Christmas for the mortals, and Yule for his kind. It was the birth of Christ the humans celebrated, and the birth of the sun god and longer days for his people. The sacred days for both celebrated birth, life, and joy. There was no difference in that, no great division between their kind. The humans worshipped the sun and prayed to their god. The Sidhe worshipped the moon and prayed to the nature gods. They were not that different. Yet how did he convince Isobel of that?
As he came closer to her, he realized that she was dressed for bed, her filmy nightgown, supposedly virginal, excited him. From somewhere deep inside, he felt the stirring of his demons. Passion, hot and scorching, rushed through his veins as his hungry gaze took in the picture of Isobel, her pale limbs outlined against the bloodred velvet while shadows cast by the fire danced across her creamy skin, rendering the silk dressing gown almost translucent.
Swallowing hard, Daegan approached the chaise, his eyes roving every inch of her, admiring her lush thighs, the roundness of her hip, the full, heavy breasts that strained against the ties of her gown.
He wanted her.
It wasn’t merely a need to make love to her or to kiss her senseless. He desired her with a possessive passion that frightened him. There was so much at stake, not only for Isobel, but for himself as well. He could not leave Annwyn. He would cease to exist outside his world. But living without Isobel was not a life, but merely an existence.
She had resisted the lure of the enchantment spell tonight. He had waited and waited, pacing the grove, knowing why she resisted the call, feeling her fears, her doubts. But it angered him. He had strengthened the spell, and still she did not come to him. And then he heard her challenge. He had not thought of anything after that. The animal in him took the challenge. He was ready to mark and claim— to mate . The Sidhe in him was willing to
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