Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) (50 page)

Micah blinked at her, unsure if she was really saying what it sounded like she was saying. A glimmer of hope lit in the deep pools of his eyes and she stepped closer, wanting nothing more than to take all of his pain and anger away; wanting to draw him down into the ferns at their feet and melt into him until they both lost all consciousness of this world in which they lived. Her thoughts showed clearly in the windows of her eyes and Micah blinked in surprise. Her mood changed so rapidly the last few days, it was difficult to keep up; being around Ailill was like tapdancing on a crate of eggshells.

"Did you hear me, Micah?" she said softly, coaxingly. "I am taking you with me, when I go for good. I would never abandon you, because I am sore in love with you and I would die bit by bit if I didn't have you in my life." Her eyes were so blue, so openly honest. "I loved you from the very first moment, when you followed me up the mountain, and even longer. I will always feel closer to you than to any other because we shared our innocence with one another. I don't care what you've done in the past, with whom, nor why, Micah, because we are together now, in
this
life, and we have a connection like no other. You will stray from me, as will Jacob, and Tiernan too, over time. It is a given. I will also, in truth, lie with others, eventually. I believe it will be to make bairns, though the dream of it was unclear. I do not wish it right now, at this moment in time, but the heart beats a thousand different rhythms in a lifetime; it changes things when you least expect it." Her gaze moved up, through the trees, gauging the time by the way the shadows fell under the thick canopy. "I must head to the chamber in less than four hours, Micah. It's
important
, this wee trip. Do you wish to join me for one last tryst before the doorway opens?"

Watching her intently, Micah stepped forward and took her hand, turning her back toward their cabin with a gentle tug. It was awhile before he even said anything and Ailill wondered if he would ever forgive her for revealing so much of himself, his own life, to him in a fit of anger. Her mind turned quickly to Jacob, once the trees began to thin out as they came closer to the trail leading toward the  stone mound. She doubted that
he
would ever see her in the same light, though when she started to say as much, Micah silenced her instantly with a deep kiss, the rough bark of a massive oak tree sloughing the topmost layer of the skin from her spine when he pushed her hard against it, seeking relief from the raw wounds of his soul.

It was quick, nearly emotionless; he did not take her the way that she had expected; it was as if the man were lost somewhere deep inside himself after that kiss, somewhere in a painful memory; unwilling to even look at her, he turned her away, holding her arms above with a strong grip, shackled by his own inhuman strength, pushing her skirt up to reveal her shapely rear, her breasts smashed up against the bark hard enough to leave an imprint on the delicate flesh. Unwilling to enter her, though Ailill was ready and more than willing to comply with the unusual new position, Micah instead whispered his feelings to her in a shocking stream of expletives, using touch along the surface of her highly sensitive skin, his own hand moving rhythmically along himself, between her legs, to bring about the little death until both shuddered and moved together at last to draw out the final measure, as his angry tears wet her shoulder with the reality of his Ailill and exactly what she had come to believe of him.

"I am
truly
sorry. I should have held my tongue. I never should have come out here in the first place. I don't know what I might do to help, to make you feel better."

Micah's gaze settled evenly on Ailill's face. It was the third time she had tried to apologize in ten minutes and, in spite of himself, he was becoming more amused than upset. Stopping in the center of the trail they had made into the unfamiliar woods, he turned to her, his face a purposeful mask of impassivity, hiding the fact that he felt as if he had just used her in a most unspeakable manner while lost in the darker realm of his own psyche, though she had made no such complaint; had simply let her skirt fall back into place when he pulled away at last, not daring to meet her wide, pained gaze as he hastily made his own readjustments. His eyes held her's for a long moment.

"Quit apologizing, Abby. It ain't the least bit becoming to you," he said softly, his eyes deep pools of limpidity despite the lack of expression on his face. "I have a few questions. We might as well air them now." Uneasy curiosity showed in her eyes and he nodded, taking a deep breath.

"First off, did you mean that McKell's mother was our own cousin?"

"Aye. Her real name was Rhianna, not Angel."

Micah's face flushed with feeling, then paled with fearful concern. "Kiah. You said he raped her, how do you know?"

Ailill met his gaze warily. "She said that she believed it was him, because of the resemblance to her own father. And I saw that she was correct in a dream, after. Was proof, ye ken, that it was not Jacob who had abused the lass, though I didn't know when she said it that the screaming was her own pleasure at the time; I understand clearly now, however. It is different... amongst the Chosen. We tend to express ourselves much more... er, strongly, than most. It is only right and proper for you to understand, however, that the bairn was growing in her mother before Rhianna ever got here. I don't know for certain if the Lost Prince still lives, I couldn't get even a small sense of him when last I tried. But it appears that he is the real father. Not Jacob, and
not
Kiah. I am sorry. That is all I know." Her eyes gleamed with the knowledge so recently understood, though she was frowning. The combination made her look rather fierce.

"Her own brother?" Rather than be sickened by such a discovery, he was filled with pity for the unfortunate Angel. Nothing but circumstance could have led to such a union, he was sure. He looked at her with unhappy expectation; the baby had truly taken the place of a daughter in his heart, and now he had to worry that she might grow up without all of the intelligence she would have had if her blood was divided properly. "Will McKell be messed up by it?"

"I don't believe so," Ailill answered vaguely. "She doesn't show signs that anything is amiss right now," she added in explanation, seeing his doubt. "And I honestly believe that she won't as she grows. McKell is a strong wee bairn, and it does take a bit o' brain-power to overcome so many obstacles as she has already. The reason I must leave again so soon is that I have begun a search, for the father of the bairn. I shall be meeting with a man I know, a Druid who might be able to steer me in a better direction than I would go from here, with no information whatsoever."

"So you'll be leaving after all." Forehead creased in a frown, Micah met her eye evenly. "For how long this time, Abby?"

"No more than a few days, Micah. I should be back before my cousin comes, aye?"

"Aye," he repeated doubtfully. "So, no dangerous battles this time? No need to worry that you'll return in a body bag?"

Surprised at this revelation, Ailill flashed a small smile."Nay. It will be an information gathering trek only. Micah, this is for the good of the bairn, naught else. Other than that, I do not believe you've much to worry about. Understand?"

Satisfied with her answer, for now, Micah nodded. His expression changed suddenly, and he looked at her hard. "Do you really believe that Jacob and I are so very...mmm, close?" Even after all she had said, all she had accused them of, Micah still could not bring himself to say such things aloud though, deep down, he wanted to scream at her that she could not be more wrong. He could not. He had pride, after all.

"Aye, Micah, I do." Her head nodded slightly in emphasis and he stiffened, ready to deny her words, and Ailill quickly went on. "But I don't care, as I already said. It doesn't change what is in my heart, nor yours. Although," her cheeks flushed ever so slightly, eyes gleaming with discontent. "I hope it doesn't become a bane to our union. Do you think it will?"

Dark head swaying side to side, Micah forced himself to swallow the cutting remarks, the rage she continually brought to the surface; he quickly changed the subject. "Will we be able to see the real Ailill if we go with you?"

"I am the real Ailill, Micah," Ailill intoned quietly, eyes darkened with secrets. "As I have been since the first time you saw me; the lass you kent ye loved and had waited for at that very moment. If you mean the real
Princess Ailill
, then we shall see when we get there, right?"

"When we get where? Where will you taking us?"

A smile hidden in her eyes, Ailill said, "to the Highlands, of course. To the land o' my heart. But not yet. Not until things are well settled
here
, will I be taking you anywhere. Quite honestly, we don't get along well, the three of us. I'm sure you've noticed,” she added, seeing that he looked close to denying the truth with a shake of the head. “We argue far too much, in misunderstanding or whatever. It wouldn't do to take such hard feelings over the barrier, into the midst of our own harmonious kin." Micah blinked in confusion, certain he had misunderstood her.

"You know my point is valid, so long as you see the bald truth through clear eyes, Micah. So long as you both stop with the denial that might well destroy us in the end."

Grunting softly in response, Micah looked away, his own eyes full of secrets. "Are you gonna sleep with him right away?" he asked in a quiet, tightly controlled voice, not meeting Ailill's eye. He was talking about Tiernan MacDuff, of course.

"So soon as I may." The straightforwardness of her answer drew Micah's head back around, his eyes burning with a tiny ember of his earlier jealousy. Reaching out, Ailill took his hand.

"I know how that must sound to ye, and I honestly have no wish to add more pain to an already pain filled day, Micah, but it needs to be done. I cannot tarry while I am in the land of my various kindreds unless I am completely bound to each of you by a blood union, which you know means it must be consummated. That would be adding insult to injury... an unnecessary burden to a great many people, including yourselves and me. It would be dangerous to tempt Fate so openly, and I wouldn't want to disinclude him in any case. If I have chosen you, Micah, and also Jacob, then you must understand that I was born for Tiernan. We were born for each other and there is no changing the fact. Such was written long ago, and is part of the reason I stand here before you now."

His eyes stayed on her face throughout her carefully worded answer and Ailill smiled, respecting the young man for not interrupting, for simply listening. She wished he had been so willing to listen to her weeks ago, though it was far too late to change that now.

"Do you love him? More than us, more than me?" It was impossible to hide the light of hope that sprang up in his expressive eyes, though, to Micah's credit, he did try.

Ailill's own eyes glowed warmly in response. She had enjoyed his self-gratifying display against the tree much more than she cared to admit even to herself. "I love all of you in different ways, Micah. I cannot help myself, however selfish that makes me sound. However wanton it has made me become. I wouldn't want to be forced to choose between you, and so I don't. I would rather claim each of you as my own now and sort it all out later. But, as I said, you and I will always have that special connection, that ever thickening bond, that neither of them share with me. I can't help but to love you, Micah." She did not dare to say
more
the hint that it was on the tip of her tongue showed in the way Ailill looked into Micah's eyes. "I will not be sleeping with anyone else for now. I've told you, I must lie with Jacob in order to lie with Tiernan, and Jacob is too rash, yet. Too impetuous. I cannot just... mphm, get it over with. That is not my way."

Hesitating for a few beats, Micah kissed her with feeling and pulled away, gracing her with a tender smile. "I need to talk to Jacob. Alone. Do you think you can find your way back without me?" Forcing herself not to laugh at that, Ailill nodded solemnly. "Good," Micah said, pleased. "Wait awhile before you come to the cabin, if you don't mind." At Ailill's shrug of acquiescence, Micah turned and ran up the trail.

She could easily slip into the cabin unbeknownst to either man, to hear what all Micah would say to his twin in her absence. And yet, she did not. She was dying of curiosity to know what would be said; what had made the two look like sated cats when they had come back from bathing in the spring while she napped awhile ago, before Micah had seemingly snapped before her very eyes under the pressure of believing that she would be leaving both he and Jacob behind when she crossed over once again. His feelings for her ran deep, his love even deeper, she knew. Too deep, given the outright jealousy coursing through the beautiful man. He seemed to feel things much more readily than his brother. Ailill remembered that her first impression had been that they were like two halves of a perfect man; the way that they seemed to take turns in showing her their own varying emotions only instilled that thought more deeply into her mind. Anger was expected of Jacob; he had been one hell of a moody bastard from day one, and Ailill knew he had a mean temper. But seeing Micah so absolutely furious with her... she had not expected it. His temper could be as foul as his twin's, she had surmised that straightaway, but he seemed able to control it far better. His shyness only added to the impression that he was more laid-back than his twin, though Ailill had quickly come to know that that was not the least bit accurate. Where Jacob vented his odd emotions with the regularity of Old Faithful, Micah was more like a newly active volcano, slowly building up pressure until it looked as if it were on the cusp of blowing its top, but instead the side becomes criss-crossed with fissures that blow off steam after a few earthy rumbles. His temper promised to be far more volatile than Jacob's, his jealousy a given, a raw wound on their unusual relationship, and Ailill could not allow it to fester. If she did, it would do naught but ill; she had no real choices at this point in her life.