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“Morning!” Darcy’s perky voice was the first thing Cyn heard as Fallon’s daughter strode into the bedchamber with a tray full of delicious-smelling goodies. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Cyn blearily rubbed her eyes, groaning. “How can you be so bloody chipper at this hour? What time is it anyway?”
Darcy laughed, her eyes sparkling happily. “It’s nearly noon.”
She sounds like a bloody songbird, Cyn thought to herself, working her fingers through her tangled curls and pushing them behind her ears. She sat up in bed, bunching the feather pillows behind her back and scooting up. Darcy flitted around the room, pulling back the curtains. The day outside was yet another gorgeous one—sunny and warm, with a cloudless sky. The mouth-watering smell of sausage worked its way up Cyn’s nostrils, and she looked with sudden interest at the breakfast tray.
“How did you get this up here?” Cyn asked wryly as she dug into her breakfast. “What’d you do, pop off one of the servants?”
“No.” Darcy giggled, pouncing on the bed and folding her coltish legs underneath her. “I bribed a maid. I wanted to, you know...” She gazed up at Cyn, suddenly looking shy. “Get to know you a little bit. You’re my father’s future mate. So we ought to be friends.”
Her smile was charmingly youthful, and hard for Cyn to resist. Cyn nodded, chewing thoughtfully. “I’d like that,” she said, and bit into a piece of toast.
“He’s a really great dad, you know.” Darcy looked away, her voice a little sad. She traced a pattern on the duvet, not meeting Cyn’s gaze.
“Yeah?” Cyn was rather curious about the rest of Fallon’s life—just what did he get up to when he wasn’t trying to court her? She smirked. Against her better judgment, the idea of a man who loved his family was surprisingly hot. Although, it really shouldn’t come as a shock that she’d secretly long for what she’d grown up with. Her family was a close-knit bunch—almost too bloody close for comfort, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Darcy nodded. “Yes, he was so good after my mum died.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and a flush crept up her neck. “I don’t remember her. She died having me, y’know.”
Cyn put a half-eaten piece of sausage back on the tray. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Darcy was at least twelve or thirteen. She couldn’t imagine Fallon being alone for that long. It made her sad, but also reinforced how little she knew about relationships, and how awkward that made her. She adored Darcy and had empathy for a man who was a widower, but long-term commitment was bloody terrifying. Cyn much preferred short flings or even long nights with her mum and older sister, drinking wine, gossiping, and watching rubbish telly. Better than having her heart put through a blender again. And frankly, having a stepdaughter half her age made Cyn’s skin crawl. Odd, and old, now that she gave it some thought. It seemed like ages since she’d been in London, chatting with Felicity on her mobile as she rode in a limousine to a shoot. The memory was like a grainy film she’d watched rather than lived. Her stomach twisted. She longed to absorb herself again in the hustle and excitement of her career, and the independence it gave her. I want to go home. But the thought stung more than it should have.
“I felt guilty for a long time,” Darcy said quietly, still toying with the bedspread. She reached over and grabbed a piece of ham from the breakfast tray. “But I don’t anymore.” She smiled half-heartedly at Cyn. “Dad never made me feel bad over it, and I know Maelíosa and I help him.”
Cyn smiled. Even though it was weird hearing all of this, it was incredibly sweet. Just very, very remote from the type of men she usually shagged.
“I’m glad of that,” she said, patting Darcy on the back of the hand.
There was a knock at the door, breaking the intimacy of the moment.
“Come in!” Cyn scootched back in bed and pulled the duvet over her cleavage. The door swung open, and Fallon strode in. He smiled, nodding at Darcy.
“Good morning lass,” he said, regarding his daughter. “My lady,” he said to Cyn, bowing slightly.
Cyn blushed. It was unlike her to be taken aback by how dishy he was, but nonetheless that was the effect the man had on her. A lock of dark hair fell into his eyes, making him look almost boyish. And sexy enough to eat, like the juicy meat on her breakfast plate. God, her inappropriate thoughts were running rampant right in front of his youngest daughter. Thank fuck púca weren’t mind readers. Were they?
“Hello,” Darcy said, springing into action. “I was just leaving.”
She winked before scampering off.
Fallon closed the door behind her, turning back to Cyn and rocking lightly on his feet. “And how are you feeling this morning?”
She blushed again, silently cursing Fallon and his boundless charm. “Lovely,” she said, turning her gaze toward the window.
And missing home. But it didn’t seem right to share that thought with him. She wouldn’t make him feel bad for something he couldn’t control. This mess was her fault for being impetuous, and following her lust blindly without stopping to ask a few key questions.
“I have something that will make you feel even better,” Fallon said. “I’m holding a bonfire in your honour—I’d like you to meet the rest of the clan. I want you to feel welcome in my home.”
“Oh,” Cyn said, struggling to look pleased.
It was unfair, because there was no way Fallon could have known she was a little homesick when he’d come knocking. And it was really a nice gesture. Of course, she was riddled with guilt for not being genuinely excited about meeting the clan, and for letting the nervousness in the pit of her stomach take over.
Cyn gulped. “That’s so sweet of you, Fallon. Thank you!”
He smiled, and Cyn was unable to tell what he was thinking. He’s a bloody enigma. She threw the covers back and stood up.
“I’ll leave you to dress, then.” Fallon nodded, and stepped out of the chamber, closing the door behind him.
Cyn flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Bloody hell. What a disaster.
* * *
CYN DRESSED QUICKLY and headed down the hall. When she reached the giant spiral staircase, she heard voices. Fuck. I can’t hide now, she told herself firmly, continuing on.
The great hall was crowded. Tomas and Niall were arguing about something over in a corner, and Niall was clearly irritated. When they heard her approach, they both turned. Niall smiled, reminding Cyn of his smoking hot stallion father. Tomas simply looked down and away, but finally met her gaze with one of embarrassment. As he bloody well should, after the considerable screw-up he’d made explaining everything. Now she was stuck in a supernatural predicament of epic proportions.
“I’m so sorry,” Tomas said. “This incident is inexcusable, and I’m extremely regretful.” Tomas looked sheepishly toward Niall, subtly moving away from the corner as if preparing for a swift punch aimed in his direction. Niall had never looked so intense, and she suddenly understood his appeal to Felicity. And now she knew first-hand where he’d inherited that intensity from.
“Hello,” Cyn said. “It’s nice to see you both.”
She was relieved to see her smile had put Tomas a little more at ease.
“Cyn, I’m so glad to see you, even under less than ideal circumstances,” Niall said, as he reached to hug her.
Cyn blushed. “Aw, thank you.”
A caustic voice behind the trio made Cyn jump, and she whirled around. An incredibly beautiful young woman stood in front of her. She looked remarkably like Fallon and Niall, with tumbling dark hair, and flashing amber eyes. Knots formed in Cyn’s stomach as she noted the malice on the woman’s face.
“Well, not all of us are thrilled you’re here,” she spat, glaring at Niall. Then she pinned Cyn with an icy stare. “I am Maelíosa, Niall’s twin.”
“Hello,” Cyn said shakily, offering her hand. “I’m Cynthia, but everyone calls me Cyn.”
“Of course they do,” Maelíosa snapped, her dark eyes trained on Cyn. “I wouldn’t expect you to have a reasonable name, but I imagine it suits your nature.”
“Maelíosa, stop!” Niall said, raising an arm between her and Cyn. “It’s not right to attack Cyn when you aren’t even acquainted with her.”
“I know everything I need to know about her. I know she’s a lush who was dragged here by Tomas. She was too busy thinking of getting shagged to bother to listen to a word he told her.”
Cyn shook with fury, anger building in her throat as Maelíosa snarled in her face. She steeled her resolve, yanking her hand back and pulling herself up as straight as she possibly could.
“I heard you were a real pain in the arse,” Cyn said, glaring back. “But I didn’t know you were bloody judgemental.”
“It’s my right, if you’re going to mate with my father,” Maelíosa said primly, folding her arms over her chest. “This is my family we’re talking about. You can’t just come in here and wreck it. He deserves better than some cheap tart—”
Niall interrupted. “Maelíosa, mating is complicated. Fallon is our father and chieftain of our clan. You will respect who he chooses as a mate and speak to her accordingly.” He ran a hand through his hair and his tone dropped low. “Mating isn’t something you have experienced, and you certainly don’t have a right to chastise our father for finding happiness just because you want nothing to do with taking a mate.”
Cyn had about enough sass from her. Daughter or not, she wasn’t going to be insulted. And it didn’t surprise her one bit to hear the woman was without a mate. Her opinionated manner and the unappealing, almost tomboyish tunic she was wearing as she stood with arms crossed over her chest, glaring, probably didn’t make her approachable to men.
“I can’t wait to see who deserves you, Maelíosa,” Cyn said coldly. “They’re going to bloody well wish they’d thought twice about mating your stubborn arse.”
Leaving Tomas and Niall agape, Cyn strode out of the great hall and then through the castle doors and down a hill. Bunch of bloody arseholes! She was too furious to consider how genuinely kind Tomas and Niall had been. As if any of them had a right to judge her, considering the kind of barmy stunt they’d pulled. She huffed, practically running toward the village. As if I enjoy being single all the time. In her head, she was raging: it was so egregiously unfair that Maelíosa would make her feel like crap over her past. She doesn’t even know me, Cyn thought, gritting her teeth.
Cyn strained her eyes, but she could make out nothing beyond the Realm. Nothing was like home. It was a strange, beautiful land filled with bizarre, beautiful people. She wanted to cry, but she refused. It wouldn’t do any good. I want my mum. An image popped into her head: Cyn, her mum, and her older sister, laughing around a fireplace and getting squiffy on gin and tonics. It seemed so trivial and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but she sure as shite didn’t fit in here. How am I ever going to get home?
