“Nay.” Rònan’s eyes shot to the King. “I would prefer that ye both stay so that I better ken exactly what happened.”
“Nobody knows what happened, lad,” Grant said. “Least of all the good King and his wife. Ye passed out when I arrived with the wee Bruce and have stayed such since.”
“What of where I went?” Rònan said. “Can ye not sense it then?”
Grant shook his head, squeezing his shoulder. “Outside of knowing it was of the Otherworld, I couldnae sense a thing.”
Rònan trusted Grant. He believed his uncle would never lead him astray. But right now, caught in all the conflicting emotions swamping him, he found himself questioning for the simple fact that he needed answers. Ones that might help convince him he wasn’t going mad.
“We have a plan, lad.” Grant kept a firm hand on Rònan’s shoulder. “Ye dinnae need to fret right now.”
“Tell me about this plan,” he said. “Give me a sense of direction because I cannae seem to focus.”
“You will hold your ground here with my brethren to help defend you,” Naðr said. “We will keep you and Robert the Bruce safe.”
Rònan heard what the king said but didn’t miss the octave of Grant’s tone when he said there was no need to fret. As if his uncle might not be totally convinced. So he directed his words at Grant. “Yet you worry over the outcome. Why?”
“Because, like with everything, the outcome is always unpredictable,” Megan interjected. “And now it doesn’t just involve you but one of our distant offspring who just happens to be a dragon shifter. The rules have changed, and we sense the enemy is taking advantage of it.”
Gone was jealousy over Erin and Darach.
Now it was just fear.
“Is Erin in danger?”
“You’re all in danger,” the King said. “You and Erin more so.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re Brouns and MacLomains and of dragon blood,” Grant said. “This dark laird we fight has already taken ye once and has tried a second time. What’s worse is he now knows that someone can pull ye free of him without igniting the power of the Claddagh ring first.”
“Jackie,” he whispered.
“No, only another dragon could pull you free.” Megan’s eyes met his. “Erin.”
Rònan shook his head. Flashes of Jackie’s face arose as she soothed him through that dark place. “Nay, ‘twas Jackie.”
“Mayhap Jackie whilst ye were there,” Grant said. “But I dinnae need to guess whose face ye saw first when ye returned to us.”
“Erin’s,” he whispered and shook his head. “How?”
“We don’t know,” Naðr said. “All we know is that Grant’s instinct is right. You must stay close to the woman. You must protect her because as it turns out, she can best protect you as well.”
“Och, ‘tis clear she’s fine without my protection.” He nodded his thanks when a woman handed him a mug. He took a swig of ale, grateful to drink something that might soften the blow of all he had learned. “Darach is her new protector.”
“My son is but a wizard,” Grant said. “Erin needs to be protected by her own kind.”
“Then how has she managed so well over the past week,” he mumbled.
A small, infuriating grin came to Grant’s lips. “’Tis true enough that my bairn has a way with the lasses.”
Rònan narrowed his eyes.
“I cannae help it.” Grant’s grin only broadened. “But mayhap ye can, aye?”
What was Grant up to?
“So have ye promoted what’s developed betwixt them then?” Rònan said. “Or have ye pushed her toward me?”
Grant arched a brow. “Why would I push her toward ye when ye’ve a need for Jackie?”
“The lass who needs to be saved,” Rònan reminded.
“At least one of them,” Grant murmured.
Rònan frowned. “What do ye mean by that?”
Megan shrugged. “The obvious choice isn’t always the best choice.” Her brows perked. “Love the one you’re with?”
His brows lowered in confusion.
“Never mind.” Megan shook her head. “What you need to focus on now is that you’ve got back-up here and a female dragon spreading her wings for the first time. She could use some guidance from someone besides my son.”
“Bjorn?”
“Aye,” Grant relented. “She’s been spending nearly as much time with him as Darach.”
Fire flared beneath his skin. Another dragon? “Has she been able to look him in the eyes?”
“Odin above, yes.” Naðr shook his head. “Those two spend so much time gazing at each other I’m growing wary of it.” His frown deepened, and he shrugged. “Because she’s meant for Darach, of course.”
“Who said she’s meant for Darach?” Rònan said, voice low.
“Better Darach than Bjorn,” Megan said. “If she and my son go where they’re heading, there’ll be no stopping it.”
“Even worse if it ends up happening with Tait,” Naðr mentioned.
“Tait?” Rònan said, trying to keep a growl from his voice.
“Aye.” Grant shook his head. “It took him longer to learn to control himself around her than Bjorn, but now that he has, he and Erin seem to get along quite well.”
“Too well, too fast,” Megan agreed.
So Darach, Bjorn, and Tait were spending all their time with Erin? Bloody hell.
“I heard ye were up and about, my wee dragon,” came a soft voice.
“Och, Ma, ‘tis good to see ye.” He embraced his mother as she joined them. “Though I’m not so wee anymore, aye?”
“Ye might be twice my size, but ye’ll always be my wee bairn,” Torra murmured, holding him tight. “I’ve missed ye so much, lad.”
He knew his mother. She would never admit how worried she had been because doing such meant admitting she feared she had lost him.
“I’m all right, Ma,” he whispered when she wouldn’t let go. “All is well.”
She pulled back and eyed him over. “Ye seem to be intact but what of yer mental state?”
“More concerned with the lasses than anything else right now,” Grant informed.
“Ah.” Torra’s regard grew wistful as they sat down. “My guess is the lovely Erin weighs on yer mind, aye?”
“Nay,” Rònan denied as Grant said, “Aye.”
Rònan swigged more ale as his mother continued to eye him.
“What?” he finally grumbled.
“I’ve never seen ye act like this.” A small smile hovered on her lips. “But then ye’ve never come across another female dragon besides me.” Her eyes went to Naðr’s. “’Tis good I think that yer daughter and nieces are at yer dragon lair, aye?”
“Yes,” Naðr agreed. “Now I know I was thinking clearly when I made sure he never met them.”
“I would never desire them like that,” he exclaimed, his eyes round. “They are like kin.”
“Aye, with nearly five centuries of thinned blood betwixt ye,” Torra reminded. “’Tis a lot.”
Rònan sighed, suddenly wishing he was amongst his cousins instead of the elders. Well, Niall at least. And Nicole. Erin was better off wherever she was. He kept that thought firmly in mind as he remained where he was for several hours and for the most part brooded silently. He even kept that thought in mind as he ended up dancing with several lasses when the great hall filled up.
But even the strongest of men could keep a level head for only so long.
Especially when Erin arrived in Darach’s arms...
With Tait and Bjorn walking on either side.
Chapter Nine
“I’M FINE, DARACH,” Erin assured. “Seriously. Put me down.”
“But your ankle,” he complained. “You took a good fall from Tosha.”
“You did,” Bjorn agreed.
“You should rest it some,” Tait added.
“Down,” Erin repeated and frowned at Darach. “Please.”
“Aye,
lass.” He carefully set her down but held her arm as she put pressure on her foot. As she suspected, it wasn’t twisted and already far easier to stand on. “See, I’m good, guys.”
Erin still couldn’t believe she fell off Tosha. She had never fallen from a horse. But for some reason, Tosha got spooked and threw her. It made no sense. Nothing had been around her and Darach as they rode. It was almost as if Tosha decided she’d had enough riding for no apparent reason. But now that she was here, she could admit to being happy enough about it.
The main lodge was busy, and as always, the Vikings were enjoying themselves with music, food, and dancing. Though the crowd was thick, it wasn’t difficult locating Rònan. Taller than most, he was easy to spot as he danced with a gorgeous redhead.
Putting that man in leather pants was a big mistake. At least based on the women flocking around him. But then she imagined they’d be there if he were in jeans or a kilt. But leather? Might as well drape him over a motorcycle with a sign saying, “Which would you rather ride, the bike or the man?” Because she knew damn well which option she’d choose.
“Here. Drink.” Darach handed her a horn of ale. “To ease any ache that remains.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, downing half of it as fire flared beneath her skin and she tore her eyes from Rònan.
It had been a long week acclimating to what she had become. Or what she always was. A dragon-shifter witch. The witch part didn’t throw her too much. The dragon part was a whole lot harder to swallow on several levels. Not only because it seemed preposterous but because of her past. Either way, she was slowly but surely accepting it.
Mainly because of Bjorn.
He was the first one who managed to be around her, and their personalities were similar. Neither were overly chatty. Not once did he try to hit on her. Instead, he helped her understand what she was. How it wasn’t as bad as she initially thought. And while she could admit they were drawn to each other, it was far different than what she felt around Rònan.
Rònan.
What was it with him? About him? Because whatever it was, she was fast becoming addicted. And the guy had been out like a light for a week. Still, they had shared moments he knew nothing about. Moments that still rendered her speechless. Like the feel of his muscular body beneath her fingertips as she tried to cool him down.
Like the feel of his lips when she kissed him.
“He’s just doing that because you came in with so many guys,” Nicole declared.
Erin snapped back to the present only to realize her friend stood next to her. As usual, so did Darach and what she now referred to as her ‘Viking posse’ Bjorn and Tait. It was their duty to protect her from their dragon cousins, and she wasn’t entirely opposed.
“What?” Erin frowned at Nicole. “Who?”
“Who, my arse.” Darach chuckled. “You’ve got Rònan in a state you do. I’ve never seen him like this.”
Erin’s eyes flickered to the way the redhead ran her hand over Rònan’s chest and how thoroughly he seemed to be enjoying it. “He’s in a state all right.” She frowned. “One that I’ve clearly got nothing to do with.”
“All those long hours caring for him,” Bjorn murmured. “Leads me to believe you do, woman.”
“Someone had to take care of him,” she grumbled and finished off her ale.
Tait handed her another. “Might it not have been his mother?” He glanced at Niall and Darach. “Or his cousins?”
“We tried.” Darach winked at her. “But she wouldnae have it. ‘Twas her responsibility seeing how they had that episode in the Otherworld at the same time.”
Surprisingly enough, she and Darach had become good friends. She still wasn’t sure why since he was overly affectionate and she tended to be standoffish. Nonetheless, the more she got to know him the better she liked him. Yet despite how handsome he was, she felt no spark beyond friendship and knew he felt the same. Which made her truly doubt this whole MacLomain, Broun connection.
Because Rònan was clearly set on Jackie and vice versa.
And Erin definitely should not be with Rònan.
So if there were only the four of them left in all of this then maybe the infamous connection between the clans had finally fizzled out. So how were any of them going to ignite the Claddagh rings? Because apparently, that’s what repelled this awful evil determined to take little Robert. Still, how do you force love? You didn’t. Couldn’t
“Let’s go dance, Darach.” She handed her horn back to Tait.
“I dinnae think—”
“I don’t wanna sit here drinking.” Her eyes met his, and she held out her hand. “Please.”
Darach joined her and shook his head. “Are you trying to make Rònan jealous?”
Was she? Erin bit the corner of her lip. Maybe on some level. “No more than you were earlier when he woke up.”
“He had it coming,” Darach muttered.
“Why?” she said as he pulled her close. “What’d he ever do to you?”
“As I’ve told you before, ‘tis nothing direct just who he is in general.” Darach shrugged. “I might love him, but Rònan’s always made a habit of taking what he wants with no care for others. If given the chance to retaliate a wee bit, I’ll take it.”
“Shame on you then.” She frowned. “You’ve been hedging for days about this. Spit it out already. What’d he do to piss you off so much?”
Darach shook his head. “It doesnae matter.”
“It obviously matters a great deal, and it sounds like it’s time to share.”
When Darach remained silent, she kept eying him. Then she got it. How simple his discontent was. “He stole a girl from you, didn’t he?”
“Lasses have an unnatural draw to dragon men,” Darach grumbled.
“Pardon?” Her brows shot up. “You’re not lacking either, Honey. Women have been all over you since we arrived.”
Fire again flared beneath her skin as her gaze trailed to Rònan. She watched as he and the redhead left. Good, he needed to get laid. So did she for that matter. Since her eyes turned that first time, her dragon senses had been increasing. Scent. Sight. Hearing. Everything. Something was definitely going on in her body. Something that had her eying men as sexual prey when she had long avoided them. Her eyes flickered to her Viking posse. Bjorn was as much her friend as Darach but Tait...well, he spoke to her on a different level. Yet was it one she wanted to tap into?
“But it doesnae matter all that much right now, does it, lass?” Darach said softly.
Ripped from thought, her eyes returned to his. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head and cleared her throat. “Bear with me. This dragon shit has me all turned around.”
“Aye, ‘tis okay,” he said.
“No, it’s not. I asked you a question then I zoned out.” She frowned and searched his eyes. “What’d Rònan do to you? What happened?”
He was about to speak when a beautiful woman came up and tapped him on the shoulder. “A dance then, Highlander?”
When Darach started to shake his head, Erin nodded and backed away. “Go ahead, enjoy yourself.”
“Aye?” he said, a concerned look in his eyes.
“Definitely.” She squeezed his hand. “As long as you promise we’ll resume this conversation later.”
Darach nodded.
She held his gaze. “Yeah?”
“Aye,” he assured.
“Good.” She shot him one last smile then headed for the door.
All she wanted to do was lie down. Though it might have been a long week dealing with what she had become, the truth was the difficulty laid in caring for Rònan. Not knowing if he would live or die. She hardly slept or ate. Which baffled her. She barely knew him. Even so, when he passed out the day she might have flickered into the Celtic Otherworld, Erin felt...responsible? Guilty somehow that he fell into that unnatural slumber instead of her.
Bjorn stopped her before she left, frowning. “Where are you going, woman? It’s early yet.”
Unlike Bjorn, Tait still hadn’t managed to rein in the desire he felt for her. Megan said it was likely because he was Kol’s son, so he came by his lusty ways naturally. Either way, she was far too vulnerable and knew it was best to keep her distance, especially when it came to dancing.
“I’m pretty wiped, Tait,” she said. “Another time, okay?”
Tait nodded. “Then allow me to escort you to your lodge?”
Bjorn would be a better idea, but she didn’t want to be rude. “Sure, thanks.”
They were just about to leave when little Robert the Bruce entered with Kjar.
“Hey there.” She smiled and crouched in front of him. “I haven’t seen you all day. What have you been up to?”
“Spending time with Kjar.” Robert grinned. “He has been teaching me battle moves.”
Her brows perked and her gaze went from Kjar back to Robert. “Is that so? And are you a mighty warrior now?”
“Aye.” Robert puffed up some. “Mighty indeed.”
Erin got a kick out of how good the massive Viking demi-god was with children. “Well, you’re learning from the best.”
She had even learned a few new moves from Kjar.
Robert frowned. “You’re not leaving are you?”
Erin nodded. “I’m really tired. But I’ll look for you first thing in the morning, all right? Maybe we’ll get in some riding?”
“I would really like that.” Robert gave her a big hug. “Sleep well, my friend.”
“You too, Sweetheart.”
Never having spent much time around children, she was surprised by how well she took to the future King. He was a good kid. As it turned out, Robert had no clue who she was when he first arrived, so that ghostly episode was some sort of farce. As Grant said, likely trickery born of their enemy. Damn daunting thought. Hopefully, it was all just a fluke that had to do with her dragon blood surfacing.
As always, it was snowing when she and Tait trudged to the lodge she’d been sharing with Rònan. Thankfully, another bed had been added. In light of Rònan’s unnatural slumber, Tait or Bjorn had remained outside for their protection every night. However, she got the impression they would’ve done the same even if Rònan was awake.
The MacLomain Series: Later Years - a Scottish Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 65