Twice Upon A Time (The Celtic Legends Series) Read Online Free

swift breath as her body tingled with prickly heat from her scalp to the soles of her feet.
    “Aye, lass.” His voice dipped low and throaty. “It’ll be better than you can imagine.”
    In her momentary distraction, he had drawn closer to her, so close that if she reached out, she could touch the fine weave of his tunic. Coming so close to this man was like drawing close to the sun. His presence blazed upon her. Every blade of grass, every drooping leaf, stilled in the clearing. She could no longer hear the patter of dew from the trees. It was as if the drops hung suspended in air, waiting for the meeting of these creatures of two worlds.
    A thought flashed through her mind, swift and disconcerting. It was one thing for mortals of this w orld and the immortals of the Sídh to converse; it was another altogether for them to reach across the veils and touch. Now that the worlds had drifted so far apart, surely such a thing went against nature; surely such an act would ripple the smooth fabric of life and have consequences beyond the moment. Hesitancy seized her. Her fingers froze over the chain of foxglove.
    He said, “Tell me your name, or I shall kiss it out of you.”
    To give a man your name was to give him a part of your soul. She felt the gossamer threads of her own web turning in upon her.
    She said, “I am called Brigid.”
    “Brigid.” He rolled the flavor in his mouth. “It’s a fitting name. The name of a goddess.”
    Suddenly, the d istant clang of monastery bells pierced the air. The clamor reverberated through the deepest shadows of the woods. The Sídh disappeared like smoke dispersed by a sudden wind. Brigid’s heart constricted. Och, those wretched bells must not drive him away. Her uncertainty dissolved. She seized his wrist and twined the chain of blossoms around it three times. She gripped the loose ends until the last echo of bells vibrated into silence.
    It was done. He remained, earthbound, before her.
    Bemused, he turned over his hand and looked upon the bracelet. “What magic is this?”
    “A chain of fairy foxglove.” The blossoms looked pitifully weak around his muscular forearm, too fragile a chain to bind such a giant to the earth. “You’re bound to me now. You must do my bidding.”
    His chuckle jarred her ears. “You don’t need spells and flowers for that, Brigid. You’ve pu t such a fire in my blood, that I’d willingly do your bidding, for no more than the price of a single kiss.”
    The breeze gusted, lifting her hair from her nape and blowing a rogue strand across her check. A new suspicion blossomed in her mind. She felt his breath on her head. He radiated warmth and strength. He smelled as crisp and clean as any newly-bathed mortal man.
    He commanded, “Look at me.”
    The clouds above shifted, growled, and released a spattering of rain. With a quiver in her heart, she lifted her lashes to look upon him.
    Something jolted her from within. White-hot lightning arced between them. Brigid curled her fingers over the chain of foxglove. The clear, silvery depths of his eyes were as familiar to her as the morning mists, as the expanse of the white-bright winter sky. She would have known this man anywhere, though she’d never laid eyes upon him before.
    He murmured, “What enchantment is this?” He scraped his finger down her neck to rest on a throbbing pulse. “Not a sprite. Warm as any woman. Flesh and blood and passion.”
    His touch burned, but it was not the searing, forbidden embrace of creatures o f separate worlds. This was an earthly fire, and she knew in that moment that all her enchantments were for naught. The foxglove chain slipped out of her hands. This was no gossamer creature of the Otherworld. His hands were tight on her shoulders, determined and possessive. A tingling rushed through her blood, the liquid swell of an unfamiliar longing.
    “You’ve the Sight.” His eyes, those eyes of silver, crackled like lightning. “Your eyes could drain the soul