“It’s alright,” I soothed my wife. “It’s a very beautiful necklace, my darling. The Queen must really have been impressed with you.”
While I was babbling such insipidness, I was more thoroughly examining the necklace. I twisted the chain until I could see the place where the necklace’s closure should be. There was none. Truthfully, I wasn’t surprised. Whatever reason for the Queen’s placement of this necklace, the Queen most definitely intended it to be a permanent fixture on my bride.
“Since it was magicked on you, my darling, it looks as if the only one who can take if off is the one who put it there. I, even with my Pooka powers, can’t remove it,” I said as gently as I could, while the irritation, and dare I say it, outrage inside me, smoldered.
As Penelope’s eyes filled with the panic of desperation, I continued. “But how about if I describe it for you? It has a pink stone heart of rhodonite, with a Celtic flowered knot entwining it. There is symbolism in that, which is all positive. The Fae believe that the rhodonite stone provides healing when needed, strengthens love, gives you strength, and . . .”
I stopped, unsure how to continue. She would not like its fourth purpose.
“Tell me, Timothy. What is it you’re holding back?” Penelope had bolted up, no longer prone on her back in the position that she’d been a moment before — for good cause, darn it.
She must have caught some kind of message from my eyes. She had become more intuitive — ever since I’d first bedded her. A true mate always bonded intensely like that. The knowing worked more than one way. It demanded the binding of souls.
“Tell me, Timothy. Don’t stop there,” she urged in a voice that told me she was feeling intimidated by having a necklace appear so abruptly, a necklace, beautiful or not, that couldn’t be removed.
I sighed, halted my fingers’ exploration of the necklace, and answered her in the gentlest manner that I could. “It is only a rumor, my dear. A stone can’t really do anything unless you believe in it.”
“Unless a Fae gives it to you, right? What is its other purpose, Timothy?” she demanded with a firmness that said she’d keep questioning until I leveled with her.
I sighed, wondering, at that moment, if tonight would be the time of the Pooka’s bite after all. I almost sighed again, my body aching to complete my claiming of her, but this was my beloved wife sitting beside me, locked in worry, already biting her lower lip from tension. I couldn’t be anything but honest with her. She deserved the truth. “It is rumored to give a woman fertility,” I said in a calm, steady voice.