The week passed in a flurry of activities. The castle blazed with decorations for the approaching holidays. Pine swags decorated with an array of pinecones and berries and dusted with gold fairy dust graced the door tops. A large wreath dressed with pinecones and bunches of red berries greeted all who arrived at the front door while smaller wreaths dressed the numerous windows. A drapery of pine sprinkled heavily with gold dust dipped along the mantels. Fat white candles wrapped with small pine wreaths graced tabletops and mantels throughout the castle, and berry wreaths hung above doorways.
A large tree trimmed with the precious gifts of Mother Earth sat in splendor in the foyer. Sarina had painstakingly strung red berries, collected empty bird nests and swigs of dried heather, and made snowflakes from tissue paper to hang on the tall tree that reached to the ceiling. The top of the tree was bare as was the old way, for on the eve of the Winter Solstice she would call on the night sky to send her a special star that would shine its brilliant light on the new dawn.
The tree in the living room was tall and plump and was adorned with stars, angels, moons, and suns; many made from cookies, others made from paper and some fashioned from pines and berries. As was the mortal way a sparkle of white lights and a string of popcorn circled the tree. The top was once again bare, for Sarina intended to request two stars to help guide their way for the new dawn, the new cycle that would greet the new day.
Dagon found her on her hands and knees tending to the fat tree in the living room. She was arranging a thatch of pine needles around its base to keep the balled roots moist and fresh. Her derriere moved invitingly in his face as he entered the room, and he stopped to enjoy the show.
Thoughts of their joining filled his head. They simply could not get enough of each other. They made magic often and shared magical moments at every opportunity. He never tired of kissing her, of reaching out to touch her, of stripping her bare and sharing the most intimate of unions with her. They fell asleep in each other’s arms and woke up wrapped in each other’s arms with Lady Lily usually snuggled contentedly between them.
He rescued her from tilting and swaying ladders. She baked him cookies and cakes. They laughed, they teased, they loved, and the week drew fast to an end.
More pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place, and he began to speculate over her lack of powers, and he wondered and considered and hoped he was wrong but he had the strong sense that somehow, some way she was connected to the Ancient One. And if his assumptions proved correct, he wondered in the end if he was powerful enough to rescue her when it mattered the most.
He pushed his concerns aside and tilted his head along with her swaying backside. She wore the lavender dress that gave her no shape or form, and he knew she rarely wore any other clothing beneath it except socks. Lord, how he loved her in socks and nothing else. And she had socks on, lavender ones that matched the dress.
Damn, but if he didn’t want to find out what else lay beneath that dress.
He walked over to her.
“First I’ll tend to the tree and then I’ll tend to you,” Sarina told him, her head remaining buried beneath the low hanging branches of the tree.
“Promise,” he asked and ran a teasingly slow hand over her backside.
She shivered at his languid touch. “I’m like a child in a candy store with you. I am simply not satisfied with one taste. I constantly want more.”
His exploring hand told him what he already knew, she was naked beneath. “That’s because I taste so sweet.”
Her laugh was brief and hardy. “Your taste is far from sweet, though it is addictive.”
“Good, come out from under there and sample me.”
She wiggled her way out from beneath the low hanging branches, his hand extended to help her up. She was in his arms in no time, their lips nearly touching when Sydney all but flew into the room.
“She arrives within the hour.”
Sarina went rigid in his arms. He himself stiffened briefly and then he kissed her soft and tender, reassuring her of his love, though they had yet to voice their feelings aloud.
“I should change,” she said and slipped out of his arms to quietly leave the room.
“You look fine,” Sydney told him, casting an approving glance over his dark gray attire, from trousers to sweater to sport jacket. His ensemble bore a striking resemblance to the sky outside, an ominous gray, a portent of the storm that was yet to break. His dark hair, so long and lustrous, spilled over his shoulders, and his handsome face was a mask of strength and determination. It was obvious he intended to have his way, and Sydney shivered at the possible cost.
“I will make sure that she sees reason,” Dagon said and began to pace in front of the large tree that twinkled with a plethora of white lights.
“You called her here for an introduction,” she reminded.
Dagon stopped pacing, his look intent and his bearing regal. “A simple introduction.”
Sydney glared at him. “When one requests an introduction with the Ancient One it is with intent.”
“My intention could be for anything!” he nearly shouted, his nerves dangerously close to the edge.
“Fine,” Sydney acknowledged with a wave of her hand.
“But I warn you, make certain your intentions are clear from the start.”
Dagon turned silent with Bernard’s entrance. “Excuse me, sir, I heard the news and wondered if you had any specific instructions.”
Dagon looked to Sydney. “Does she have any preferences?”
“A good wine and a light fare would be appropriate.”
A sudden gust of window and torrential rain pounded the windows, startling the three.
Bernard shook his head before regaining his composure and quickly excused himself.
“She arrives on the wind of a storm,” Sydney informed him with a shiver and then rushed to Dagon’s side, taking his hand in hers. “Your powers will do you little good. Your strongest weapon is your heart.”
Dagon had no chance to respond. The room suddenly filled with a gust of wind, though nothing in the room was disturbed, a swirl of blinding light followed, and then in a flash it disappeared, and there before him stood the most stunningly beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Her long blond hair fell to her waist in reckless waves and was streaked with a red so bright that the startling combination gave the silky strands the appearance of raging flames. And her features were so outstanding that not even an accomplished artist could capture her true beauty. Her skin was a peachy cream color, smooth and, he suspected, silky soft. Her pale green eyes remained steady on him, and he was mesmerized by the depth of aged wisdom they possessed.
Her dress was a unique creation. It was as white as newly fallen snow and looked to be of the softest wool and it draped, wrapped, and hugged every curve and mound of her luscious body. She wore white slippers; really just the barest of covering and her feet were rather small for her height, which he thought to be at least six to seven inches over five feet.
Not even the hint of a smile passed across her full, plump lips the color of ripe apricots and she held her head at a high enough angle to announce to all that she was waiting and not patiently.
Sydney stepped forward and with a respectful bow of her head made the introduction. “Tempest, may I introduce Dagon Rasmus.”
Dagon stepped forward. He was secure in his ability to charm witch or woman, and while this witch definitely robbed a man of sense and reason, he worried not; his heart would always belong to Sarina.
He gave a brief, old-fashioned bow from the waist down before reaching out to take her hand.
She shocked him and, he hated to admit it, insulted him by intentionally stepping away out of his reach. Her tone was curt and impatient. “Why did you request an introduction?”
He watched her float a few inches above the floor toward the large tree and noticed that her slippers were not soiled.
Did she never walk?
Her wide eyes warned, her stern voice cautioned. “It is not for you to question where my feet touch.”
Granted she deserved respect for age alone, but rudeness in his own home he would not tolerate. “My thoughts are private.”
“Not when they concern me.”
Sydney moved forward to interfere, but Dagon prevented her intervention with an outstretched hand. “I repeat, my thoughts are private, and I will not have them invaded. You are aware of our rules, and I ask that you respect them in my home.”
He thought he caught a glimpse of admiration in her glowing eyes, though he couldn’t be certain, it was so brief, but regardless he intended to stand his ground with this witch who was aptly named.
She did not acknowledge his request, but then again she did not mention his thought of her name suiting her, so he assumed she would oblige him.
She drifted around the tree, her touch delicate as she examined the decorations and skimmed fingertips over the pine branches. Her fingers were long and graceful in their tender movements, and he could have sworn the tree responded to her every stroke, the branches seeming to stretch out so that the pine needles could whisper gently across her skin.
“A beautifully prepared tree for the Winter Solstice,” she commented, taking a bird nest off a branch to rest in the palm of her hand. “You have been generous with your gifts to her and she is pleased.” She carefully replaced the nest and ran a light touch over a bunch of berries. “I see you wait to call down a star for the top of the tree.” She turned and sent him a direct look. “Is this why you called me here to top your tree for the Winter Solstice?”
She certainly had a sharp tongue, but he had sharp wit.
“While I would be honored for you to perform this special feat, I would not dare trouble you to do so.”
Bernard quietly entered the room and stood with a silver serving tray in hand waiting for further instructions. A brief nod from Dagon informed him to proceed. He did so with direct and firm strides toward Tempest, honoring her by offering her the first glass of wine from the tray.
After she accepted a glass, he bowed his head and said, “It is an honor.”
Remarkably, her reply was pleasant. “As is your gracious hospitality.”
He then served Sydney and Dagon, placing the tray with its lone glass of wine on the glass-top coffee table.
“Someone is joining us?” Tempest asked her eyes on the single glass.
“Someone I wish you to meet,” Dagon said, determined to keep the conversation flowing until Sarina made her appearance.
What he had to say concerned her, and it was she who he wanted most to hear what he had to say.
Astute to his energy Tempest redirected the chatter to Sydney. “How have you been, dear friend?”
Dagon examined her more closely. Where had that soft melodious voice come from? Gone was her curt, sharp tone and demanding manner. It was almost as if she were two people in one. And there was something familiar about her eyes, but he couldn’t quite recall what it was.
“I am well and so very pleased to see you once again,” Sydney answered with a generous smile. “It has been too long.”
Tempest sipped her wine. “Much too long. That is why I responded so willingly to your request; I was assured that you would not disturb me unless it was important.”
Damn, but her name suited her to perfection. If she once loved and lost, he could very well understand why. And spending only a few minutes with her made him realize how lucky he was to have found Sarina and how fortunate he was not being involved with the Ancient One. Actually he felt sorry for any man who would even attempt a relationship with such a tempest.
Sydney looked with worried eyes to Dagon, and he sought to ease the tension and appease the temperamental witch. “Have you known love, Tempest?”
Her green eyes blazed with contained fury. “A foolish question, but perhaps you require a lesson. In understanding love, you understand the universal answer.”
Dagon surprisingly retained his patience. “Understanding it and knowing it are two different experiences. I wish to know if you yourself have known love.”
For a brief startling second Dagon sensed a long buried pain, a hurt so deep no mere mortal or skilled witch could bear to experience it. And he empathized with her loss and understood her need to ignore it.
“Love simply is. It is a daily part of my existence, it is who I am and what I give; it is all of me and more. It is the never-ending cycle of life. There can be no growth, no evolving, and no wisdom without love.”
“And you give this love to all?” he asked.
“It is who I am, I can do nothing else.”
Dagon tried again. “Then let me rephrase my question. Has a love as strong as you been returned to you?”
Sydney stifled a gasp, and Tempest with an icy calm directed her near empty wineglass to the tray and was about to turn her full attention and wrath on Dagon when her glance shifted and with wide stunned eyes settled on the doorway.
Dagon’s eyes followed Tempest’s startled ones, and it was with shock he stared at the woman he loved. She looked absolutely magnificent. She wore the sacred color of a wise witch, black, dark, and powerful like the endless night sky. The soft wool hugged her body, the cowl neck falling in gentle folds and the long sleeves coming to rest in points on her hands. And he smiled seeing the hem sweep teasingly across her bare feet.
Her hair was twisted and pinned high on her head and her bangs fell in wisps along her forehead and temples. Her dark eyes shined with the power of her wisdom, and her skin glowed with ageless beauty. It was at that very moment that he fell in love with her for the second time and knew he would forever fall in love with her over and over and over again through the ages.
He stepped forward and offered his hand to her. She took it, and together they approached the Ancient One.
The storm outside suddenly hushed its fury. The silence hung heavy in the room, the fire blazed more brightly in the hearth, and the pine tree appeared alert and waiting.
Sydney cast a silent prayer and stepped back out of the way.
It was time.
Dagon spoke, his hand tightly woven with Sarina’s. “I am grateful for your patience with me this evening, and I express my gratitude for your presence in my home. I ask that you bless a forthcoming union, for a union blessed by the Ancient One is known to last for eternity, and I wish for that with Sarina.”
Sarina blinked back tears as she stared speechless at him. She had waited to hear those words, had thought to first hear them in private, and yet here he stood proclaiming his love for her in front of the Ancient One. He truly did rescue her. He was her hero.
Dagon continued. “I had thought I had known all about love, but when I met Sarina I realized I never knew love, truly knew love, until she entered my life. We have shared magical moments, and I possess a love so rare for her that I even wonder at times if such a love is possible, but then I touch her”—he paused and ran a single finger gently down her cheek and continued—”and I know, I know with all my heart and soul, that our love is real.”
Sarina took his hand and placed it over her heart. “I give you my heart, for it overflows with love for you.”
Dagon brought his lips to hers and before kissing her, said, “I will forever cherish you, my bumbling witch.”
The castle began to quake around them, and Dagon grabbed Sarina tightly to him. The walls trembled, the flames in the hearth shot outward, thunder roared, the large tree swayed, and rushing wind swept in and swirled in fury around Tempest.
She floated up in the swirl of wind, her hair flying out around her head resembling shooting flames, and her eyes shined like polished emeralds. She pointed a finger at Sarina, her voice potent and powerful. “So, my dear sister, the rest is now up to you. You have a full moon’s time before my return and before the spell must be completed.”
With her warning issued, the swirling rush of wind swallowed her up and swept her away.
The room returned to normal, the storm outside quieted, and Sydney discreetly vanished.
Sarina attempted to step away from Dagon, but he would only allow her an arm’s length, his hand catching hold of her wrist.
“Your eyes,” he said.
“Eyes?” she repeated not understanding his strange remark.
“Your eyes are like your sister’s. That is why they were so familiar to me when I looked at them, but it was the difference in color, yours light blue, hers dark green, that prevented me from realizing the similarity.”
“Yes,” she acknowledged with a nod. “Anyone who knows the both of us always comments on the likeness of our eyes. Strange”—she paused, her nod turning to a brief shake—”I did not expect you to respond so calmly to my sister’s antics.”
He laughed with a softness that tingled her skin and drew her near. “Give me time, I’m still in shock. No one ever mentioned that the Ancient One had a sister.”
“Few know, and I need to explain—”
He silenced her with his lips and then urged. “First, tell me you love me again.”
“With pleasure,” she said and rubbed her cheek softly against his. “I love you, Dagon. And I will love you for always.”
His question was whisper soft. “Why?”
Her smile came slow and hinted at a tease. “Because you rescue me—”
He attempted to interrupt her, but a quick hard kiss stopped him.
She placed a finger to his lips to keep him silent. “You rescue me from me. You have shown me love in its rarest form and in so doing taught me the true magic of love.”
His arms went around her waist, and he nipped at her finger to chase it from his lips. “I knew you loved me.”
“Did you now?”
He laughed as he nibbled playfully at her bottom lip. “And you damn well knew I loved you.”
She giggled. “It was obvious.”
He pinched her bottom which produced a small squeal. “I demonstrated my love in more than just physical ways.”
Her expression grew serious. “Yes, you certainly did, and that was why I had confidence in your ability to face my sister.”
Dagon sighed. “A subject we better discuss.” He took her hand and together they sat on the couch.
She waited for the inevitable question.
“Why didn’t you tell me that the Ancient One”—he paused, shook his head and continued—”Tempest, was your sister?”
“Tempest and I keep our relationship quiet for many reasons, which I am sure you can understand. And when I discovered that you requested an introduction to the Ancient One in regards as a possible lifemate, I thought it best not to mention I was her sister.”
Dagon brought her hand to his lips, kissing her palm, and was pleased when he watched a shudder run through her. “You do realize you will be my lifemate. I want no other.”
She didn’t respond as quickly as he would have liked and her continued silence began to worry him.
“You don’t wish to mate with me for life?”
“Of course I do,” she said on a frustrated sigh. “But there is much you need to know before we can commit to such a potent union.”
His voice betrayed his annoyance. “I need to know nothing. I love you, you love me, and that is all that is necessary. We will mate for life and that is final.”
“I would be honored to mate for life with you, but we have a problem.”
“Your powers,” he said with a shrug. “I assume your sister robbed you of them, but it matters not to me. I love you whether you are a powerful witch or not.”
She slipped her hand out of his and sat with stiffness to her posture that worried him. “It is a little more involved than that.”
“I’m listening.”
Where did she start? She supposed the beginning was the best place. “Tempest is far older than I, and she always felt responsible for me. She taught me much of what I know, though I could never hope to achieve her degree of knowledge and powers, but—” She paused almost reluctant to continue. “I possess one power that surpasses her.”
“The power of sight.”
Sarina confirmed with a brief nod. “I can see many things, the past, the present, and the future. I can do nothing to change these events I see, but I can caution those who come to me seeking advice and help direct them wisely. One important rule that I have always lived by is to never read a person without their request. It would be an intrusion, an invasion of privacy, so therefore it was a rule I strictly adhered to—” She paused again.
Dagon grew impatient by her lengthy silence. “And?” he asked anxiously.
“And one I broke.”
“Your sister?”
She nodded, her eyes betraying her sorrow. “I saw an event that would befall her and wanted to warn her, to help ready her, to protect her.”
“She did not realize you warned with love?”
“I don’t know what she thought. She immediately grew furious with me. I am sure you have noticed she possesses a temper.”
He laughed then, strong and hard. “Someone certainly aptly named her.”
“She is really sweet and kind and wonderfully wise, but she is highly emotional.”
“Can you tell me of this event in her life that you saw and caused you worry enough to warn her?”
“I suppose it does not matter now. You should know all of it, and then perhaps you will better understand why she cast the spell on me.”
“The spell that robbed you of your powers?”
“Yes, it all started when I saw his return.”
“His?”
Sarina spoke low, almost fearfully. “I will not speak his name, no one will. He was a warlock of immense powers. He lived many, many years ago. And strange as it may seem, they fell in love. She thought to help him, to teach him wisdom, but in the end she was forced to use her skill and banish him.”
“The lost love that everyone speaks of,” Dagon said.
“Yes and her only love. He was more handsome than you, if that is possible.”
Dagon smiled at the compliment.
“He was feared and respected and he could charm the purest of souls.”
“He charmed your sister?”
“No, Tempest saw a spark of light within him and hoped to—”
“Change him?”
Sarina shook her head. “No, she is too wise to think one person can change another. She hoped that by knowing her, loving her, he would discover his true self and that light would grow and he would evolve out of the darkness into the light.”
“I assume this did not happen.”
“No, it didn’t. No one is certain what exactly happened. All I know for sure is that she banished him from Mother Earth until a time he could return and have a chance to right his wrongs.”
“She allowed him another chance,” he said with admiration for her wisdom and courage, but most of all for her unselfishness.
“Tempest believes that where there is light there is hope, and with hope grows love and the wisdom it brings. So she gave him another chance.”
“Am I to understand she didn’t know when he would return?”
“Nothing of it, not where or when, not even if he would resemble his old self. His memories would be buried along with his powers until such a time that he himself would recall them. It is hoped that by the time he recalls his past, he would have stepped out of the darkness and into the light.”
“And is it believed that he will seek out your sister?”
“Many believe he will; I know he will.”
“You saw his return?” Dagon asked.
“Clearly, and he is not far away.”
“He has already returned to Mother Earth?”
“He has been here for some time and grows restless,” she said with a concern to her voice that worried Dagon.
“Has he learned anything?”
She sadly shook her head. “Nothing, but he continues to search, and that is a good sign.”
“What did you tell your sister of his return?”
Her sigh was heavy, her burden obvious. “I told her that he had incarnated and the two of them would soon be forced to face their fates.”
“And she did not take well to your prediction?”
“I was foolish to tell her.”
Dagon slipped an arm around her and drew her close. “You wanted to protect her.”
“But perhaps it would have been wiser to remain silent.”
“She is better off knowing,” he insisted.
“Tempest thinks not and released her fury on me.”
“Exactly what did she do?”
Sarina moved out of his arms and stood, needing to pace, which she did in front of him as she explained. “She flew into a rage, similar to the one tonight. Wind and fire are her friends, forever by her side, and when her temper flares, so do the elements. Her spell was fast and furious, the wind wrapping tightly around me as she issued forth the cast.”
“Tell me the spell,” Dagon urged, needing to hear it so that he could determine what they would face.
Sarina recited it clearly and with the melodious voice of a skilled caster. “You dare to predict my fate; for this I cast a spell of wait; your witch’s powers will dwindle with time; until you are loved by one of our kind; magical moments you must share; and he must proclaim a love that is rare; when all this is complete, you—my dear sister—must perform your best feat!”
Concentrating on the spell, he slowly stood, preventing her from pacing by coming to stand in front of her. “Until this spell is completely satisfied, you lack your powers?”
She nodded with a worried smiled.
He worried but kept his concerns to himself, chasing them from his thoughts so she would not sense them. They needed a break from this chaotic madness, and he would see that they had it. He scooped her up into his arms and centered his thoughts on her naked in his bed. “I have a spell of my own I wish to cast.”
Her worried smile eased and she nuzzled his neck. “And what is it?”
He murmured in her ear. “It’s a spell without words.”
She moved her lips to meet his and whispered, “Show me.”