“Well, congratulations to you both, and will you continue to work for Orion, Isabella?” Marcus asked.
Roman released the witch’s hand and she sat forward, glancing down the table at Jake before honing in on Marcus.
“Yes—I would like to carry on working here, if I am welcome.”
“I think I speak for us all by saying we are more than happy to have you. Jake, what do you have to say?”
Ella knew her husband wanted to address the issue with Jake upfront, never one to shy away from problems. But she tensed, knowing this must be difficult for the man.
“You deserve the best, Sparkles—I’m happy for you. As for you remaining at Orion—I have no issue with that. You’re part of the team. As long as you don’t want to sink your teeth in me and drink my blood, we’ll be fine.”
In a flash, Isabella left her seat and stood behind Jake, with her hands pressed down on his shoulders as he tensed. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear.
My tastes have changed, but I will kick your ass anytime you want, partner.
Jake’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded. Isabella returned to her seat in a split second, and Roman placed his arm around the back of her chair, eyeing the man she had just left, his face fixed in a stony glare.
“I wish to offer our congratulations also for your nuptials. Weddings are a joyous occasion, and a time to celebrate the reasons we fight to stay alive. To keep those we love safe. I am here to assist in any way I can to defeat the Morrigan. With that in mind, I bring a gift. Huron, if you please.”
The strong, heavily built guard left his seat and strode over to the tall wooden dresser and picked up an intricately designed, long, wooden box. On the front lay delicate gold etchings. He set the lightweight box down in front of Lady Tenille.
“Ella, would you please come here?”
Lady Tenille’s cold blue eyes focused on hers, and without speaking, she rose out of her seat and marched to stand next to the mysterious woman who always seemed to know far more than she ever voiced.
“Open the box.”
Ella wet her lips, and stared around the room. Marcus had both his hands gripped on the edge of the seat, and she smiled over at him. She smoothed her hand over the lid and stared down at the ancient language carved into the surface, not understanding what the words meant, but recognizing the symbols. They matched The Book of Blood and she opened the box, excited. She gasped as she stared at the sheer craftsmanship and rich beauty of the gleaming silver sword nestled inside on the rich ruby velvet. Ella lifted the heavy steel blade encrusted with bright jewels in the handle, until a rainbow appeared as the sun from the outside hit the gems, and the room fell silent.
“It’s a sword forged from deep in our valley, cast from the purest iron from a fallen meteorite. But that is not what makes it special. In the hands of the right person, the blade kills immortals. With this sword, Ella, you will defeat the Morrigan.”
Marcus pushed his chair back and stamped over to Lady Tenille, but he didn’t utter a word.
Ella studied the sword in silence, enraptured with the feel of it in her hand. Captivated by Lady Tenille’s statement, Ella stood back and waved the sword around, thrusting it through the air. A pulsing and guiding life-force exuded from the weapon that drove her to make cutting motions that sliced through space, making everyone gasp around her. Holding the sword somehow seemed natural, and a fire lit inside her belly, remembering her fight with the Morrigan.
“This is your destiny, Ella. You are one of the few. The chosen. I knew it the moment I met you. You’re an old soul, with such power and potential inside you.”
“Do you know Ella is pregnant?” Marcus asked.
“Yes.” The lady nodded.
“Why does it have to be Ella who fights the Morrigan?” Marcus asked in such a calm voice Ella peered over at the exchange.
Lady Tenille glided toward him and clutched his arm, observing him. “Because she will have no choice.”
Marcus frowned, as did Ella, puzzled as to what the lady meant. But she gazed over at Raine and Zephra, who wandered to her side. A sense of foreboding filled her. Zephra stepped away from her sister and touched her free hand.
“Please remember, I never see the entire story when I have a vision, but this one was vivid. I saw you fighting the Morrigan in the temple of the gods. I don’t know when this takes place, but I know you’re fighting to save your family, and that sword is in your hand. I saw it as clear as day.”
A clatter sounded out around her as she dropped the striking weapon to the ground. A sinking sensation overcame her delight at the feel of it in her hand as she stared at Marcus. A fear rose at the witch’s words. Where’s Marcus in all of this? Nate? The baby? Her hand fell over her belly and Marcus drew her into his strong arms, brushing her hair away from her flushed cheeks.
“It’s only a vision. We don’t know what it truly means. I will not let anything happen to you or our family.”
Ella stared at the overprotective man. Her mate. Her husband, and the father of her children—her love. Since her admission of needing time, Marcus remained at Steel’s mansion, but they agreed to spend Christmas as a family. Now, she wondered whether their time together neared the end. Resting her head over his heart, she listened to
