Fiona didn’t consider that she had a homeland; she’d spent most of her life travelling across the globe. But if she had a home, it would be the west coast of Ireland, the tall cliffs, the sharp boulders, the grey skies and blue ocean. The land was old, ancient. Beautiful, alluring, perfect… as she hoped to remain. But time was running out. Her time was running out. She’d started the ritual and must complete it, or she’d lose everything she’d been working toward for more than thirty years. Since the day she conceived Moira and committed herself, and her daughter, to a path Moira needed to survive… but a path her own daughter, her own flesh and blood, had betrayed. Fiona would not allow Moira to walk away from her destiny. Not when Fiona’s immortality—her very life—was at stake. Her lover, Matthew, came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her neck lightly, repetitively. She sighed. “I’m so glad you’re home.” She and Matthew had lived apart more often than not out of necessity.
