CHAPTER22
The scent of roses brought her back to herself. Cathy lifted her head—at least, as best as she could with six and a half feet of muscled mage sprawled across her like the world’s sexiest weighted blanket.
“Oh no,” she muttered as she took in their surroundings. She tapped Aodhan’s broad shoulder. “Aodhan, wake up. I need you.”
“Have mercy, woman,” he mumbled into her neck. “I’m a librarian, not the Horned God incarnate. At least give me a moment to recover between rounds.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She brushed at the petals stuck in his hair. “See for yourself.”
Aodhan lifted his head, blinking groggily at the roses blooming an inch from his nose. His gaze tracked around the room, which was now so overgrown with floral abundance that it looked like the background for a perfume commercial. The magical lights Aodhan had created earlier flitted amidst the flowers like curious, glowing bees.
“Well, now.” Aodhan propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her with a distinctly masculine smugness. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “We have to get rid of them. What if someone sees?”
“Then they’ll assume that the sorceress has redecorated her temporary accommodation to be more to her liking.” He plucked a gold-edged flower from the headboard, stroking it down the line of her neck. “I’m rather fond of them myself.”
She caught her breath as the velvet petals brushed the hollow of her throat. “I thought you wanted to sleep.”
“I said I needed a brief pause.” The flower trailed further down, circling. “I think I could find a way to occupy myself for a few minutes.”
It was a bit longer than that, but Aodhan proved to be very creative. By the time she collapsed back onto the bed, panting and utterly wrung out, the room was so thick with roses that they even covered the ceiling.
“Seriously, though,” she said, when she could speak again. “We have to figure out some way to control this. Otherwise I’m going to accidentally smother you with flowers.”
Face down between her breasts, Aodhan made a sound somewhere between a contented purr and a grumble. “As tempting a fate as that sounds, I must admit I would prefer not to be limited by fear of suffocation. My knowledge of sorcery is rudimentary, but I have some books on the subject back home. When we return to my library, I’ll…”
He abruptly fell silent. Cathy’s languid contentment dropped away as she came to the same realization. Of course there was no need for Aodhan to research how to suppress her runaway magic. It wasn’t going to be a problem in future. Once they’d rescued Kevin, she’d be gone.
Without a word, Aodhan drew the blanket up, covering them both. He curled around her, fitting his long, warm body around hers. She could feel his heartbeat, echoing her own.
Sleep dragged at her, but Cathy fought it back. She focused on the sparks drifting between the flowers, willing herself to stay awake. They only had tonight, and she didn’t want it to end.
“Cathy.” Aodhan’s arms tightened around her. “You should get some rest.”
“Not yet,” she whispered, watching those glimmering lights. “Talk to me. Please.”
He traced slow spirals up her arm, following the lines of the magical bond. “What about?”
“Anything.” She groped for something to ask him. “Tell me about… about your name. Why did that other alicorn call you Hunter?”
His fingers froze. She felt his heart stutter, and her own missed a beat.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s all right.” He rolled away, turning his back. The glimmering lights winked out abruptly. “It’s late. We should sleep.”
Cathy could have kicked herself. She stared into the darkness, painfully aware of the tense line of his body, so close yet suddenly so far away.
How could I be so stupid? She thought of how the high sidhe had treated Aodhan as if he was nothing more than an animal. She couldn’t even imagine how hard it must have been for him to escape that kind of life, or what painful memories must lie in his past. And there I go, asking personal questions like an insensitive idiot, when it’s none of my business anyway—
“It was my herd name.”
Aodhan spoke so softly, she almost didn’t catch the words. She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, that he didn’t owe her an explanation, but he’d already continued.
“It’s a tradition.” He kept his back to her. “Newborn alicorns aren’t given proper names. Instead, our elders call us after the phase and moon of our birth, plus a number to distinguish any duplicates. I was the sixth foal born in the waning phase of the hunter’s moon. Hunter Waning Six.”
“I like Aodhan better,” she whispered.