“It sounds like you might have some mastery over projecting your conscience, or even a portion of it somewhere,” he muses. He releases my hands, and we both stand up from our chairs. Carrick bends closer and asks, “Are you going to leave her alone?”
“Well, technically, she didn’t say I couldn’t contact her again,” I point out.
“She shoved you out,” he counters.
“Semantics,” I insist, stepping around him and heading to the dresser that holds my clothes.
“Finley,” Carrick warns as he follows me. “You contacted her. She doesn’t want anything to do with you. I want you to consider giving up on her because I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt.”
I reach the dresser, open the top drawer, and nab the envelope I had put in there a few days ago. Pulling it to my chest, I turn to face him.
My soul mate.
“I love you for many reasons, one is that you worry about me. But you know I can no sooner give up trying to get Zora from the Underworld than I could give up on you. She’s my twin, Carrick.”
“I know,” he murmurs, then gives me a genuine smile of acceptance. “And I’ll obviously help you in any way you need.”
One hand still clutching the envelope, the other going to his shoulder, I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss him lightly. When I pull away, I press the envelope to his chest, forcing him to take it.
Carrick glances down briefly. “What’s this?”
“Read it,” I say, giving a quick nod at the stationary in his hands.
He opens the envelope, which is not sealed, and pulls out a single sheet of cream linen paper I’d found in Carrick’s office. It’s the fancy kind to write personal notes to people on.
It’s folded in half and once he has it open, he takes in the first line before his eyes snap up to me.
“Dear Eireann?” he questions me in wonder.
“I thought I’d write a letter to my future selves for you to give to them. And since we’re all Eireann, I addressed it to her.”
Carrick’s golden eyes lighten with emotion, and his eyes move back down to the letter.
Dear Eireann,
You might think you don’t know me, but you actually do. By now, Carrick has told you the truth of what he is—an immortal demi-god who is deeply in love with you and has been for centuries.
I’m one of your incarnations. Just one of many, really, with Eireann being the first. As such, we’re all Eireann and I just wanted you to know that it will be all right. You’ll love deeply and have so much happiness during your time with Carrick. One day, it will be gone and he’ll move on to our next self, but take peace in knowing you’ll experience joy that you could never have imagined.
Trust in Carrick. Love him as much as he loves you.
Good luck, and I truly hope that Rune’s curse will end in your lifetime. If not, I hope you write your own letter to add to this one so all the future Eireanns can be inspired by our journeys.
With love,
Finley Porter
Carrick’s eyes pop up to me in astonishment before going back to the letter to read again. I wait patiently. When I have his attention again, I can see how touched he is.
“Too hokey?” I ask hesitantly.
“Too perfect,” he replies gruffly, folding the letter and slipping it back into the envelope.
“Don’t give it to them until you have their love and trust. Until you’ve told them the truth about everything.”
“I promise,” he says, putting a hand behind my neck and pulling me toward him.
My heart starts tripping as I see not only the utter love over my thoughtfulness, but also the low flame of desire that my actions produce.
Voice a little raspy, I say, “I hope by giving them this letter, it makes it easier on them and you.”
“You’re amazing,” he murmurs before sweeping me up into his arms and carrying me to our bed.
CHAPTER 22
Carrick
After a full day of wedding dress shopping with Finley and Rainey, Carrick couldn’t help but think this moment might be the better part of his day as he rang the doorbell to the Lake Washington mansion. He could hear the heavy dong from inside that reverberated for several beats before dissipating.
The double doors were inset with thick, semi-frosted glass so while he couldn’t see details inside, he could see a figure coming his way. It was large and hulking and most likely represented a security guard.
The left door opened and yes, there was a daemon with a larger-than-normal black aura around his body. He was easily seven feet tall, looked as thick as a rhinoceros, and, no surprise, he resembled one in the face as Carrick took him in.
Carrick was dressed casually in jeans and a lightweight sweater, and was surely a surprise to show up unannounced. The daemon gave him a critical look from head to foot, and Carrick could see in his eyes the moment he was dismissed as a threat. “What do you want?” he asked in a guttural voice.