1 Chapter 1 In which the Girl meets The boy

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Authors Note: okay guys..I'm not going to pretend that I know Irish Gaelic..LOL..because let's be real here, I live in an always sunny place..NOWHERE near Ireland..🤣I did some extensive research..(ty google) and took it from there. I'm learning albeit slowly how wattpad works & what keeps readers interested per se, so bare with me. I actually found this chapter harder than I thought 😔. I had so many ideas! And then splat..I totally forgot where I was going with it. I had to remember..that this IS MY STORY, more importantly to stop worrying or thinking it has to be a certain way. Not everyone is going to love it, or read it. But..for those of you who did and are..THANK YOU. I absolutely appreciate you for taking the time and chance. You bring my story and characters to life for

me. 😘.

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Theres madness in love...

Everyone remembers their first love. Including the darkest of souls and those who can't be redeemed. Maybe it was the only light that they remembered, before they were tainted by circumstance. Of course there are those who never had to try. It came naturally to them, small obstacles and such, but it was never a hardship. They say there is a thread that tethers each fateful encounter, leading up to the destined meeting. Though the road there may be rough at times, who said it would be easy, right? Fate is fickle & enjoys toying with us, but ultimately gives us what we deserve in the end.

This is the story of a love so beautiful that it's painful in the way it starts and breathtaking in the way it ends.

I could almost hear the water lap against the shoreline, trying to reach as far as it could, but could never sink its watery fingers deep enough to stay. I touched my forehead to the window peering out at the lake. I could make out its silvery ripples, marring the reflection of the moon.

Shifting my eyes to the dense forest that shielded my home from the next estate that bordered ours. Most would feel creeped out, but not me, the night had always beckoned. It was peaceful and Magical. I would know, my mom had firmly said it was so, and my dad agreed.

Below, there was a party going on. Being of the upper crust, it was a given. To see and to be seen, to scream " Look! We're rich and perfect." Stupid and a waste of time.

I was only 11, and interested more with what was happening outside then in. I was mature for my age, only the best tutors and school, always around adults. My name is Azura O'Ceallaigh. I had no friends, as loaded as my parents are, they could buy them I guess. It obviously worked, as we were never short of parties or invites to them.

I wish I could tell you that my parents were awful people, and they beat and starved me. Fat chance. They loved me, and they were awesome. Always laughter in this house, smells of good food and happiness. It was never lonely in a way. I had an adoring older sister, who was away at college. I was a surprise, and well a happy one.

I stood up and walked towards a full length mirror to check my appearance before making my way downstairs. I was okay I guess, deep red hair that curled at the ends, cream colored skin with light cinnamon colored eyes. I'll never be as beautiful as my mom, but whatever. I was skinny and all angles. My sister Celeste had said I had a dancers body. I could trust her to tell me the truth. She was gorgeous, so I'll take her word this once.

Straightening my ivory summer dress, and stuffing my feet into matching ballet flats, I trudged out of my room. I suddenly felt the need to hurry, so I ran the length of the hallway down the staircase. My breathing rapid as I picked up speed. Rounding the corner, I approached my parents who were standing at the foyer. Hushed and frantic whispers echoing aroundthe quiet hall. I struggled to get my breathing in control, wheezing in effort that made my vision blur at the edges. Holding on to the edge of an end table, I knew something was wrong.

There was another couple there, looking tired and angry. The man had my father by his jacket, while the woman next to him had her eyes downcast.

"Dad, what's happening?"

Shocked silence. My father turned to me, well as much as he was able given the fact that the man still held him by his jacket. His mouth open and closing like a fish, while his eyes spoke of shame, coated with hate.

The woman slowly lifted her head and looked at me with sharp green eyes that sat under slashing dark eyebrows. She was pretty and fragile looking, an exact replica of my father, but more feminine.

She started to walk towards me with a small dainty hand outstretched, a soft smile gracing her wide mouth. My father seemed to snap out of his shock and pulled himself violently away from the man to stand before me, blocking the womans approach.

Aunt Celia, my fathers sister it obviously had to be. It was never hidden that she had left with my fathers best friend. Left him behind to deal with the onslaught that caused my grandparents to decline and eventually pass away due to the loss. My father never said he blamed her but it was clear.

Roarke Campbell, that must be the man standing stiffly with one hand on my aunts shoulder. His land bordered ours, or rather used to before he ran off with my aunt to chase their dreams.

My throat ached to ask, and I was getting antsy. Every noise seemed to blur except the harsh breathing of my father.

" She looks like you Vi, she's going to be even more gorgeous than she already is!" Came the soft and happy voice of my aunt.

Before my mom could reply, who had a hand on her mouth and tears in her eyes, my fathers voice rang out, making me jump and grab onto the back of his jacket.

" What is it that you want, it's been nearly 20 years! Are you done chasing your will' o wisps and imaginary fae kings?"

What?

" Your still a prick Channing! She begged me to come here and ask for your help! Otherwise I wouldnt have stepped foot in this hell hole!" Roarke shouted at my father.

I peered through the crook in my father's elbow, watching this verbal battle with worried fascination.

Just then, the front door opened and in stepped the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. He wasn't quite in his teens, so he couldn't be more than 11 or 12. He smelled like the night, crisp and fresh after a hard rain mixed with earth. He had silvery long hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. It looked like a silky ribbon twining around his neck to drape down his shoulder.

He was lanky and elegant, with slightly rounded cheeks speaking of his age. His eyes were bright pewter gray, that was currently scanning the scene before him. He didn't stop to close the door behind him, just kept right down the short staircase that led him to us. He wore a white dress shirt over a pair of fitted ripped gray jeans. A little king, I thought. Calling him a prince wasn't right, didnt fit at all.

I inwardly groaned, feeling embarrassed for no reason. I felt the need to hide and run off suddenly uncomfortable in my own skin. Squeezing my eyes so tight that I could see stars, pushing myself further into my fathers back.

No one said a word, I kept waiting for someone to start yelling and carry on, to distract the way I was feeling inside. Instead, my mom cleared her throat and stated that I should join her at the party. Looking to her I felt relieved, and gingerly stepped out from behind my fathers back not looking at anyone. I didn't want to see Him and his assessing stare, too worldly to be childlike.

Before I could step forward to place my hand in my mothers, a scuffle ensued and by the sound of it seemed to be trying to hold someone back. No longer focused, my eyes turned to the noise. My hand went to my throat, and I felt a pain so deep in my heart, that I wanted to drop to the floor. Sadness flooded my senses, time seemed to cease.

I was correct when I felt that someone was being held back. It was the boy, my aunt had her arms wrapped around his shoulders, bent awkwardly as she was trying to restrain him. Roarke made no moves to help, only staring at my father.

"Mo shíorghrá," fell from his lips like a plea.

It was musical and wild that it held me rooted to the spot. What did that mean?