“We had planned to give it to you to wear at your wedding, but since we…ah, missed the ceremony, I’ll just tell you what we told the other girls when we gave them theirs.” Grace lifted the gold locket from the velvet. “This is to remind you that even though you have married and are now a Gregor, you will always carry our hearts with you, no matter where life leads you.”

Feeling the sudden sting of threatening tears, Winter reached out and took the delicate locket made of spun gold threads loosely woven in the shape of a plump heart. Inside the heart were two loose little beads also shaped like hearts, made of shiny black stone that Winter instantly recognized as the rock that ran in fissures throughout TarStone Mountain. No matter where she went, she would always carry a piece of home with her, as well as her parents’ unconditional love.

Grace leaned forward and gently kissed a tear running down Winter’s cheek, and Winter threw herself into her mama’s arms. “I’m sorry you and Papa weren’t at my wedding,” she sobbed into her mama’s shoulder as she held the locket in her fist.

“Shhh,” Grace crooned, tenderly stroking her back. “I can see it was more important you prove your love to Matt by giving up a fancy wedding to marry him on his terms.”

“But I want Papa to be okay with it, too,” Winter said with a lingering sniffle, leaning back to look at her mother. “I want him to understand why I ran off without telling any of you.”

Grace squeezed her shoulders. “You just leave your father to me. I’ll make sure he understands why you did what you did.” She reached down and took the locket from Winter and stepped around behind her. “Now we need to talk about birth control,” she continued as Winter lifted her hair so her mama could clasp the locket around her neck. “You have enough to deal with right now without adding a baby to the mix.”

“Too late,” Winter squeaked, grinning at Megan when she gasped. “I’m already pregnant.”

Winter felt her mama’s hands still momentarily before she finished locking the chain around Winter’s neck. Frowning, Grace silently walked back around to stand in front of Winter. “You can’t possibly know that yet,” she said. “You just met Matt two weeks ago.”

Winter fingered the locket at her throat. “I—I don’t understand how I know, I just know that I’

m pregnant,” she said. “It happened the first time, just three nights ago.”

“Okay then,” Grace said with a slow nod. “Then I suggest we keep this from your father for a while. Grey’s going to need some time to adjust to having a drùidh for a son-in-law without adding a magical grand-baby into the mix. Does Matt know?”

Winter dropped her gaze to her locket. “Yes.”

“And has he told you that having a baby will cause you to lose your powers?”

“Yes.”

Her mama lifted Winter’s chin to look at her. “Is that why he came here, to seduce you into giving up your calling?” she asked softly.

“No,” Winter told her. “He came here so I can help him right an old wrong,” was all she said, not yet willing to tell anyone about Kenzie. “He seduced me to gain my loyalty, so that I will be honor-bound to help him.”

“So he is using you,” Megan interjected, once again standing beside them. “And you’re just letting him. But why?”

“Because she loves him,” Grace said before Winter could, reaching out and brushing Megan’s hair from her face.

Megan finished tucking her hair behind her ears and glared at Winter. “You said Wayne Ferris was only using me to further his career, and that I should want him to burn in Hades, but you’ve gone and married a man just like him.”

“Wayne was merely selfish,” Winter argued. “But Matt’s motives are…they’re…” She sighed and shook her head. Despite not liking the idea of Matt’s brother hanging around her sister, Winter couldn’t bring herself to explain that the panther Meg slept with most nights was really a man. At this time in Megan’s life, Gesader was her only comfort. “Matt doesn’t want my help for himself, but for a greater good.”

“And that would be?” her mama asked.

Winter shook her head again. “I can’t tell you what it is without breaking Matt’s trust,” she whispered, turning and walking to her closet and picking up the sweater she’d dropped.

“Then we’ll just have to trust you,” Grace said, taking the sweater from Winter. “And you’ll trust me when I tell you that you and Matt are staying at Gù Brath tonight. You can decide tomorrow where you’re going to live, once things have settled down.”

Winter gaped at her mother. “Here?” she squeaked. “You expect us to stay here, in my bedroom?” She shook her head. “We’ll go to Matt’s hotel suite.”

“Family does not stay at the hotel.”

“But I can’t, Mama,” Winter whispered, fingering her locket again as she looked around her childhood room. “This is my…this is my bedroom.”

Grace set the sweater back on the shelf in the closet. “Your sisters stay in their old rooms when they visit with their husbands.” She turned and lifted a brow. “Why should it be any different for you?”

“But Papa will throw a fit having a drùidh sleeping in his house. And Matt will…he’ll…he won’

t agree to stay here.”

“We’ve had a drùidh sleeping in this bedroom for twenty-four years,” Grace said, laughing at Winter’s startled look. “And Matt is part of this family now, so he might as well get used to it. And so must your father.” Grace took hold of Megan’s hand and led her out of the room, but stopped at the door and looked back. “Begin as you intend to go on, Winter, and establish your authority in this marriage. If you don’t set the tone right from the start with these ancient men, you may never catch up.”

“You make marriage sound like an ongoing battle.”

“No, baby girl, not a battle, but a wonderful and exciting dance,” Grace said with an utterly feminine smile. “And you’ll find it quite pleasant if you’re the one leading.”

With her mother’s final bit of wisdom still echoing in her mind as she lay in her childhood bed beside Matt that night, Winter decided it was definitely time she took over the lead in this marriage. Matt hadn’t made love to her since their first night in the cave, nor touched her in an intimate way, not even a kiss. For newlyweds, there hadn’t been much honeymooning going on, and Winter was feeling insulted.

She didn’t care if Matt thought he was being noble by not bothering her that way, or if he was feeling guilty for railroading her into this marriage, or even if he felt uncomfortable making love in her childhood bed with her father sleeping just down the hall. Curses, if she could get over that last fact, so could he!

But the problem with her leading the dance, Winter realized, was that she didn’t exactly know all the steps. How did a woman go about seducing her husband when her entire sum of experience was one single night of salacious bliss?

Winter frowned up at the dark ceiling. Wearing her old flannel pajamas to bed probably hadn’t been her brightest idea, considering they made her look about as enticing as a bag lady. And she probably should have left her hair loose instead of braiding it like she always did. Matt seemed to like playing with her hair, and she could have subtly draped it over his naked chest.

He’d undressed in the dark once she’d climbed into bed, but there had been enough moonlight coming through the windows for Winter to watch him strip down to his pants. He’d started to take them off, too, but had stopped suddenly, then climbed into bed with them on.

Matt had changed from his ancient clothing sometime while she’d been upstairs with her mama and Megan, apparently thinking it wouldn’t be wise to sit down to dinner in his plaid. Dinner had been interesting, with her mama asking Matt questions about his company and her papa alternating between listening, glaring at Matt when he wasn’t looking, and trying to disguise his discomfort by smiling at Winter. Megan had been unusually quiet, but Winter had caught her eyeing Matt more than once, apparently trying to reconcile Matt Gregor and Cùram de Gairn as one and the same.