Forbidden by Divine Law

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

SELENE

Idrove the final distance through the moss-covered sessile oak trees and brought my car to a stop on the gravel in front of Mystwood Castle. Morning mist drifted around the base of the red sandstone tower house in eerie wafts that enchanted me all the same.

Yes, my job had come with a host of unexpected issues, some lethal.

To my heart as well as my body. If I could turn back time, I might have hesitated before I accepted the restoration specialist position, but I couldn’t regret how coming to Killarney, Ireland had changed my life in the most profound ways.

I gripped the handle of my worn leather bag, containing my restoration plans and structural surveys, and pushed open my car door.

The breeze carried the sharp smell of wet stone and ancient moss rolling off the lake just down the slope from the castle, and the pounding of a hammer overhead greeted me.

My gaze followed the sound to the familiar gray sky that somehow left the lush green foliage around me more vibrant. It hadn’t rained yet, but it would at some point during the day.

Then Bren appeared, looking down at me, and my heart stuttered. The sight of the dark-haired man who’d haunted my dreams and now my days stood many meters above me. Even at a distance, awareness swept through me, sharp and immediate.

For one foolish second, I forgot how detached he’d become for no apparent reason. Forgot the careful politeness and the way he seemed determined to pretend nothing had changed.

We’d shared two devastatingly addictive kisses that he apparently didn’t know what to do with any more than I did.

Bren raised a hand, his gaze serious as always. “Morning.”

I smiled before I could stop myself. “Good morning,” I called out. “Will you be up there all day?”

He shook his head. “We’ve almost finished with the flashings. The scent of a storm is in the air, and the roof will be ready when it comes.”

I nodded. “Excellent. Once the upper courses dry out, we’ll start on them. By the way, Maeve arrives today too.” I was just waiting for the call to pick her up.

An odd, uncomfortable sensation washed away thoughts of Maeve. The second I clocked it, my stomach dropped and I froze.

I slid my gaze toward the trees. The last time I’d felt the same pressure shift, something had come through the Veil. A thorn wraith had nearly ended me.

The reminder flooded me with adrenaline as I searched for immediate danger. I could see nothing.

But that didn’t mean none was there.

I jerked my gaze back to Bren to alert him of the danger, but he was gone. Gone.

I sucked in a deep breath, but before I could call out, he emerged from the side of the castle, startling me.

Without saying a word, he strode past me with a determined look on his face. His presence brought a tremendous amount of relief, and I stared as he disappeared into a cluster of oaks.

I stood, confused by what had caused the disturbance, but also by how fast he’d come down from the roof. Curiosity pushed back my fear and urged me to follow him, but a bright glint of silver stopped me.

There was no sun to glimmer off anything. That meant he’d conjured his sword, the deadly blade created from only his hand and the moonlight his body stored. That equated to a threat. In the trees. Right next to where I worked every day.

That realization ripped me from the normalcy I’d found over the past couple of weeks and dropped me straight back into Bren’s world, one that I struggled to understand. The sight of that silver blade tightened something low in my stomach. Fear. Or something dangerously close to it.

That man, that guardian, had held me with those same hands while I’d kissed him with wild abandon in his sacred moonlight grove. Twice. How did one ever process something like that?

A moment later, Bren emerged from the trees, strolling in my direction, his movements perfectly casual as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

I searched his face for a sign of what had taken place, but he gave me a calm smile in return. I worked to mirror his expression. “Is everything okay?”

He lifted one shoulder. “Of course.”

When he tried to walk past me, I reached out to grab his forearm, but he dodged my grasp, leaving my hand hovering empty in mid-air.

Still, my actions stopped him, and his expression was no longer as settled.

I shook my head at his response, trying to ignore the sting caused by his obvious intent to avoid my touch. “You didn’t just march into the trees for nothing.”

“I didn’t.”

My frustration spilled out before I could stop it. “So, you’re refusing to tell me what just happened?”

He held my gaze. “It was a small wraith, Selene. Nothing to worry over.”

His nonchalant words constricted my chest. “A wraith? Here?”

The rigidity in his posture eased as he released a controlled breath. “It’s nothing like what you saw before. This was a common wraith. A minor creature that’s easily taken care of. If there was something to worry about, I’d tell you.”

I stared, trying to process my erratic emotions, but I couldn’t untangle my previous experience from this one so easily. It seemed unlike Bren to lie about something that could put me in danger. Still, I wasn’t entirely convinced he’d told me everything.

But the wraith was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it now. “Okay.”

A genuine smile curved his lips. “Good. We have a lot of work ahead of us today. Let’s focus on what can be fixed.”

Which apparently didn’t include us.

I agreed with a nod, and he turned and strode toward the side of the castle where he’d come from. He did glance at the trees, though, his gaze lingering a fraction too long before he disappeared from sight.

I remained where I was, using the senses my newly discovered ward witch abilities offered me, but the disturbance was gone. Bren had dispatched the creature and sealed the Veil.

A common wraith. Nothing to fear.

“Right,” I whispered as I tightened my coat against the cool breeze and headed toward the castle’s massive oak door. I yearned to fully understand his world, but maybe that would come in time.

For now, the restoration work waiting inside felt solid and familiar, the way the rest of my life no longer did.

The hinges of the old door squeaked as I stepped inside the dim interior, instantly recognizing the low hum. It constantly resonated in the air, which always seemed thicker than outside.

The great hall stretched out before me, layered in scaffolding, tarps covering most of the historic furniture, and filtered morning light drifting through the tall, narrow windows.

The space was a bigger mess than when I’d begun my project. But that’s how things went. I had to tear down the old, remove the rot, and rebuild. The grand lady, as I now thought of the castle, had suffered centuries of neglect, and she deserved only the best.

One noticeable thing had changed, though. The damp mineral smell that had settled into the upper stonework had already begun to fade. Progress.

I made it an extra step that morning before the surrounding air tightened, as it had for more than a week now, and the floor rumbled lightly beneath me.

An uneasy chuckle escaped me before I could swallow it.

These sensations had become a daily occurrence, and they no longer frightened me.

Not like they had the first time I’d experienced a reaction from the castle, but still.

At some point, I’d fully accept that the ancient building I stood in seemed to be aware of our presence, but apparently, today was not that day. Logically, I could not explain it, but there were a good many things in my life that no longer made sense.

I placed my bag on the long wooden table where families had once gathered to eat. Bren had originally claimed it for a workspace, but I’d stolen a small section of it too.

Outside, the breeze grew stronger, pressing against the windows and whistling through cracks, while I fastened my work belt and retrieved the small tub of lime mortar.

As I made my way to what I considered the sacred center of the castle, the intricate Celtic knot crafted from small pieces of stone, I glanced upward first. “Good morning, my lady.”

I’d never been one who talked to buildings before, but if it continued to react to my presence, it seemed wise to be friendly.

I dropped to my knees next to the stone inlay, an incredibly beautiful piece of artwork by any definition. “Let’s see what you’ve been up to overnight, shall we?”

I found the dislodged limestone piece near the edge of the circular pattern and softly scoffed. “It’s as if you need to remind me daily that you’re here,” I whispered as I pulled a small chisel and soft brush from my belt. “Really, you don’t need to. I sense you more than you likely realize.”

The faint sounds of hammering carried through the ceiling beams as I lifted the small piece and scraped away the old limestone mortar.

I brushed away loose grit, applied new mortar, and carefully set the rock back into place.

The space around it and others wasn’t uniform like one would find with modern tiling, but other than that, it was perfect.

The air near the center of the inlay lightened, and the room stabilized immediately. A shiver rolled through me, but I gathered my tools, brushed off my hands, and stood as if it was no big deal. “There. All better.”

Ancient spaces seemed to have personalities. Rhythms. Preferences. Some resisted interference. Others settled more easily once repairs began.

Mystwood mostly felt exhausted.

“You’re a sturdy lady. Remember, you’ve survived worse than water damage during your six hundred years. We’ll get you fixed up so that you’ll remain standing long after I’m gone.”

The creak of hinges drew my gaze to the door. I expected to see Bren, but it was someone far more delightful. “Maeve.”

A smile immediately broke across my face, matching hers as she stepped inside and peered around. I wiped my hands on my jeans and strode toward her, thrilled to have her with me. “I was supposed to pick you up.”

“I caught a ride.” The fiery redhead who’d become a dear friend during my almost seven months in Ireland hurried toward me, her cascade of wild curls dancing about her shoulders, her green eyes alight with happiness.

She opened her arms. “Ah, here you are. I’ve missed you.”

“Me too. So much.” I hugged her tightly, and every damned emotion I’d held back sprang to the surface. I pulled away and wiped my misty eyes, but there was no hiding it from Maeve.

Her expression fell to one of concern. “Here, now. What’s this?”

I blinked rapidly, still smiling. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been…lonely, I guess. Everything is new, and I do love it, but…”

There was no stopping the words tumbling from me as I released the stress from two ontologically destabilizing weeks. “I’m fine, and I absolutely love working on the castle, but it’s just…”

I exhaled a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “Things here are odd, Maeve, and there’s so much to tell you.”

A hint of her smile returned. “Ah, I see. Well, you can start by telling me why the great hall is down here instead of upstairs, and who’s that handsome man I spotted on the roof. Will he be working with us the whole time?”

Her comment put a surprising dent in my confidence. “The great hall?”

Maeve glanced around. “Sure. Tower houses usually put their important rooms higher up. For protection.”

They did.

I opened my mouth to explain several ways Mystwood was different, but she interrupted me with a laugh. “Of both things, of course you’d focus on the architecture. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I want to know about the guy, you silly girl.”

I pressed a hand to my forehead as I recalibrated. “You didn’t recognize him?”

“He was clear up high and didn’t look my way for long.” Her gaze turned expectant. “Spill.”

I moistened my lips, trying and failing to gather everything I wanted to tell her in one go. I would need to start much smaller. “Do you remember the guy from the pub?”

Interest flashed in her eyes. “Do you mean the one who couldn’t take his eyes off you? The eejit who rejected you when you asked him to dance?”

An ache rolled through me as I mentally recounted everything that had occurred, from the sting of his first rejection to the feel of his body against mine. And now we seemed to be back where we started. “That’s him. He’s… He’s…”

I stared at her for a long moment before my mouth bypassed my mind and blurted out the words that I wasn’t certain I should say. “He can create a lethal sword out of nothing but moonlight and his hands.”

Maeve froze. And blinked. And then blinked again, her gaze growing more incredulous by the second. “What?”

I probably should have started with something less shocking. “I’m serious.”

She stared at me for another second. Then she huffed an entertained breath and grinned.

“Christ, Selene. Have you been planning that one the whole time you’ve been here?

Because it’s good. But really, I fear we shouldn’t leave you alone in a desolate old castle again.

You said that with enough conviction that I nearly believed you. ”

I shook my head repeatedly as I took her warm hand in mine. “I am dead serious, Maeve. Something isn’t right here in Killarney. Things aren’t what they seem.”

The moment I finished speaking, the floor shifted beneath my boots.

Maeve gasped and crushed my hand with her fierce grip, her response a strangled whisper. “Holy Mary and Joseph. Did you feel that?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Welcome to Mystwood Castle, Maeve.”

She shook her head, wide-eyed. “No, Selene. That’s not normal settling. Something’s wrong here.”

We were interrupted when the door opened, bringing with it a gust of cool air, and Bren stepped inside. Maeve inched closer, her shoulder bumping mine.

For the first time since arriving in Ireland, I wasn’t the only person who would admit something was wrong.