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“I think I love you, Finn Brannon.” He smiled against my lips, a cocky grin just to taunt me. He already knew—the eejit. “You told me no more pity swoons.”
“Ready to pull off the greatest heist in Seren history, my wee murderous thieving potato?”
I snorted. “Let’s out trick a tricksome trickster trickily.” “Oh, love,” he crooned, biting his lower lip. He didn’t have to finish. I knew what was on the tip of his tongue. Yeah, Finny boy, I speak your love language
“Aye, you are mine, Taryn Brannon Ó Dair,” Finn said, a crack in his voice. “Mine. There is no future where this will never not be true for me. Even though I want you to find love and happiness, open your shop, and have all the children you desire. Even though I may never see you again after our curse is broken. Even though our marks will disappear. You will always be my wife, my mate.”
Finn brushed his lips across mine. “Nine hundred and ninety-four.”
Falling suns, all I wanted to do was push her up against a wall and lose my soul to her lips, worship every tantalizing line and curve of her body, memorize the dance of her breath as she came undone beneath me. A lad could dream.
She frightened me too . . . when Taryn chose violence, I feared I couldn’t fall to my knees fast enough to receive my punishment. She really did make it difficult to want to be good.
Still, I flashed Ren a taunting grin and snapped, “Go choke on worm-ridden shite, you disgusting chicken!”
Twinkling shite on a cracker!
Friends, I commanded an army of ravens. An. Army. Of. Ravens.
Did he know the Sisters Three? The skunk ornaments had his knees knocking too, did they?
“Where’s my wife?” he asked Kalen.
A tiny smile fluttered across Finn’s lips. “Tell me she has murder eyes, mate.”
If I were not so weak, I would rip this world apart within my next breath, starting with him.
Aye, a patch of lawn for a garden and children, just like you want, love. To have children with Taryn . . . sweet Dobhar-chú tears, the bairns would be absolutely feral. Just like their mother.
“Aye, Maiden,” I answered her softly but my eyes were fastened to Taryn’s. “I would sacrifice all for her happiness.”
I only wanted my wife to have her dream. My gaze drifted over to Taryn, my True Mate, and stars . . . the most beautiful smile blushed across her lips and my heart leapt from my chest to bow at her feet.
“I promised you that I would claim what I wanted when I was free of Corbie.” I caressed her bottom lip with the pad of my thumb. “You are all I want, Taryn Brannon Ó Dair.” A tear-choked laugh fluttered across my skin and I fell through an endless starry night at the happy sound. A fall I never wanted to land. She was mine. All mine. “Nine hundred and ninety-three, love.” Then my heart and soul kissed hers.
From the time I was old enough to understand romance, I believed that falling in love took months, years. But now I believed in the faerie tales. Two souls could collide under the right circumstances and feel whole for the first time. Two hearts could intertwine so fast, the beat of one craved the other to an obsession. And oh how I craved Finn Brannon.
“You own my heart,” he whispered. My breath fluttered as his lips trailed up my neck. “Protecting you, caring for you,” he confessed into my ear, “is the purest magic I know, Taryn.”
“I have a bargain for you, Finn Brannon.” I trailed the same fingers along his ear, to the point. He quietly moaned as his entire body shivered; his eyes closed in a long, languid blink. “Set down roots with me and I will be your home.” “Rynnie . . .” he murmured on a shaky breath. “Grow a family with me, Finnan, and I will grant you one real swoon per week.”
“To grow a family with you, my wee feisty otter wife,” he said, resting his hands on my hips. “Be mine in this lifetime and in the world beyond.” He paused a dramatic beat. “And seven real swoons per week. Once per day, minimum.” I stepped out of his embrace with a mock impatient look. “Go on then. Better start making me swoon before I change my mind.”
“I, Finnan Brannon Ó Dair, mate bind myself to you, Taryn Brannon Ó Dair, for as long as my soul exists. I put you before all others and will protect you with my life.”
“I am entirely yours, wife, for now and for all eternity.”
And then, with the stars and trees as my witness, I began. “I, Taryn Brannon Ó Dair, mate bind myself to you, Finn Brannon Ó Dair, for as long as my soul exists.” I brushed a lock of hair from his face and tucked it behind the point of his ear. “I belong to you, husband, for now and for all eternity.”
“I love you, my wee witchling forest cat.” “I already swooned for you today, Finn.” “Once daily . . . minimum. That was our agreement.”
We were partners in crime, he and I. Attached at the hip now for an eternity. I could think of no better happily ever after than having Finn Brannon forever at my side.
“What do you think, my wee feisty otter wife?” “I think I love you, Finn Brannon.” He grinned. “Come, Rynnie love.”
Mainlanders, gather around for one last lesson. Don’t be afraid to let him catch your heart, even if he’s an arrogant, mischievous, irritating sack of bargaining potatoes. Remind him of your everlasting devotion by promising to murder him with your pining looks. And, friends, most of all, swoon with every breath in your body. For there is nothing in this world or the next comparable to the way he’ll love you. Or the thrill of loving him back.
THE END But, also, not not the end.
