The fool will obey me. I am his Queen.
Hawk paused a whisper of a breath, not enough to break continuity, but enough to acknowledge.
And besides, you’re past commanding. You’re pontificating and being positively redundant. Still, well done, mortal. She is safe, you both are. I will see to it for now and always.
Hawk continued, “… all elements conjoined by ifs, ands, or buts, or other conjoining verbiage shall not, when seemingly in conflict, operate in exclusion or limit in any fashion but shall function conjunctive, overlapping, and allowing the broadest possible definition of the terms as used herein…”
The Fairy Queen sighed. Ahhh, I see. You will not cease this drivel until I offer you assurance. Clever man. You seek my troth? I grant it. You have the sworn oath of the Fairy Queen upon the pact of the Tuatha De Danaan. T’will never be broken, lest our race vanish.
Hawk released the scroll and it rolled shut with an audible snap. Only then did Adrienne see the tremor in his hands as he met her gaze, eyes triumphant.
“She has given us protection and fealty.” His smile could have lit the Samhain bonfires. His eyes swept her from head to toe, lovingly lingering on every inch in between.
“We’re safe?” Adrienne whispered, tears springing to her eyes.
I shall see to it myself, the silvery voice lilted. Now and for always. Fool?
Adam growled.
Since I can’t seem to keep you out of trouble you have a new companion. Aine will spend the next five hundred years with you. She will endeavor to keep you in line.
Not Aine! Adam’s plea was a shade away from a whine. That snoopy little fairy has a crush on me! I could spend my time pleasing you, my Queen. Let me!
You will please Aine, fool, or you will spend the next thousand years in the foot of a mountain by yourself. You think you’re bored now?
With one last searing look at the Hawk, Adam vanished.
Now where were we? the Queen asked. Adrienne squinted hard in the direction of the voice. She could barely discern the shimmering outline of a woman hovering in the misty air behind the Hawk.
Ah, yes. The two of you were about to have a wedding on the ridge by the sea. The fool has a beastly sense of timing. I shall pick up where it was left off. I, Aoibheal, Queen of the Tuatha De Danaan, name you man and wife. Neither mortal nor immortal shall ever tear you asunder, lest they incur my eternal wrath. There. You’ve been wed by the Fairy Queen. None can lay claim to such a legend.
Adrienne and the Hawk were still staring at each other across a space of garden, both afraid to move even an inch.
Well? Kiss the woman, you big beautiful man! Go on.
The Hawk sucked in a harsh breath.
He’d changed, Adrienne realized. Time had rendered him even more beautiful than before. She didn’t know he was thinking the same thing about her. His eyes slid over her, from her silvery-blond hair to her bare toes peeping from under a pair of strange trousers.
And then she was in his arms, folded in that strong embrace she’d dreamed about every night for the past five months as she lay in bed, her hand resting on her rounded belly, begging the heavens for just one more day with her husband.
He brushed her lips with his. “My heart.”
“Your heart is … oh!” She lost her breath beneath his ravishing lips.
“Ahhh,” the Queen marveled, for even the Tuatha De Danaan were in awe of true love. You are worthy of what I now give you, she whispered just before she vanished. Consider it a wedding gift….
EPILOGUE
ADRIENNE BREATHED DEEPLY. NOTHING WOULD EVER COMPARE to the scent of roses and spring rain, the unceasing roar of the waves against the west cliffs and the splash of salt in the unspoiled air. She had ducked outside to watch twilight move in over the sea. Then she would return to Lydia and continue making baby plans. She smothered a laugh with her hand. Lydia had finally outright ordered the Hawk to go away, complaining that she couldn’t possibly welcome her daughter-in-law back properly and prepare for her grandchild if he wouldn’t stop kissing her all the time. Not that Adrienne had minded.
Like a chastened boy, the Hawk had glared.
“You have the rest of your lives together,” Lydia had remarked crisply, “while we women have only a few short months to prepare for the babe.”
“A few short months?” Hawk had looked stunned. Then worried. He’d raced off, muttering under his breath.
Now Adrienne stood on the stone stairs, head tilted back, drinking in the quiet beauty of the velvety sky. A flicker of movement on the roof caught her eye.
Grimm peered over the parapet at her and his handsome face lit with a smile. She and the Hawk had talked that afternoon and he had filled her in on what had transpired, including Grimm’s part in helping to bring her back. Only hours before, Grimm had clasped his hand to his heart and on bended knee begged forgiveness for lying. She’d granted it readily.