by Kim Loraine
“Go on, then,” Helena urges.
I don’t walk to them. I run. I run fast and hard, dress caught up in my hands to keep myself from tripping. Lance meets me halfway, catching me in his arms with a laugh.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m not wasting any more of our time,” I tell him. “Let’s get married.”
The ceremony is simple and beautiful. Helena binds all three of us together and we promise to love and respect our soul mates forever. Something inside me heals at those words and I remember what the Lady of the Lake told me. Most people have two parts of their soul and when they find their soul mate, they’re finally whole. She said my soul was wrong. But now I realize the truth.
As I look into the faces of the two men who make me truly complete, I understand that my curse never could have been broken by Lance because he was only one part of my soul. To truly find the key to my freedom, I needed them both. My soul wasn’t wrong. It was broken into three parts.
I thought true love wasn’t possible for me, but in reality, it came in a form I never expected. Once I opened my heart to both of them, the pieces joined together and everything made sense.
Epilogue
Gwen
We celebrate into the night, me and my two husbands. My sisters dance with their loves while I take turns sharing the floor with my men. It’s a perfect moment in time, etched forever in my memory.
“I love you, Gwen,” Lance whispers against my earlobe. “I always have, and I always will.”
“And I love you. I can’t believe I have you both, that you have each other.”
“It may have taken centuries in purgatory, a curse, and the work of Lucifer, but we made it through. Anything else life throws our way will seem like child’s play at this point.”
I laugh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m really hoping for some downtime. Stopping the apocalypse seems like something that’s should earn us a break.”
He kisses me, long and slow as the music reaches its pinnacle and the swoon worthy chorus kicks in.
Brooks taps him on the shoulder, asking to cut in and take a turn around the dance floor. When he swoops me into his arms, I smile. “You look so handsome. I think we should dress you up more often.”
“This is the happiest I’ve ever been, and it’s all thanks to you.”
His words make tears spring to my eyes. “It’s fate. We were destined, written in the stars.”
“Maybe so, but it’s still you who made all this happen. You were the strong one. The unafraid one. Without your acceptance and love, we’d never have been strong enough to love each other.”
I sniffle and laugh, embarrassed to be crying.
“Don’t hide your tears. When I know they’re tears of joy, they mean something completely different.”
From the corner of my eye I catch sight of Ruby as she sneaks into the house. Going to check on Gabriel, no doubt. “You make me very happy. You and Lance as well as seeing the two of you love each other without hiding.”
He nods. “It makes me happy too.”
That’s all I’ve ever needed. To know the people I love are safe and happy.
We walk back to our chairs and I watch my sisters with their husbands. Izzy dances with Grant, little baby Kenzie nestled between them. Tamiel holds Helena in his arms, his palm resting on her belly.
I can only hope that one day, Ruby will find her happily ever after.
I’m leaning my head on Lance’s shoulder, staring at the stars as they wink into existence in the night sky when Ruby comes barreling out of the house, frantic.
“Ruby, what’s wrong?” Helena asks.
“It’s Gabriel,” she says. “He’s gone.”
Lancelot
Gwen sleeps with her head in my lap, body splayed across the couch while Brooks puts together the cradle for our soon-to-be-born little one. I watch her belly move as the baby dances. My wife isn’t able to sleep much these days, so every spare moment she can get to rest is taken.
Her brow draws together into a small frown and she whimpers. Immediately my mind goes to the visions she’s had in the past. That expression makes fear grip me. Visions mean trouble. We’ve had enough trouble to last an eternity.
“Brooks, I think Gwen is having a vision,” I whisper.
He looks up from his work and cocks a brow. “Why do you say that?”
“Look at her.”
Kneeling at her side, he brushes back her hair and watches her. His hand rests on her belly, over our child. When she tenses and frowns again, he sucks in a harsh breath. “I don’t think this is a vision.”
“What can it be?”
Gwen groans and her eyes open. “Oh, ouch. That fucking hurts.”
“What hurts?” I ask.
“Contractions.” She slowly gets to her feet and begins pacing the floor, her hand on her back to help support her swollen belly. Then she pauses and braces her hands on her knees. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she cries. Her eyes widen and liquid spills down her legs. “Get my sisters, Brooks. The baby is on his way.”
Excitement races through me as Brooks jumps to his feet and rushes out the door. “Come on, we need to get you to the bed,” I say, holding her around the shoulders.
She shakes her head and smiles. “No, things are done differently these days. It’s best to let gravity do the work until absolutely necessary.”
I see her belly tighten under the soft dress she’s wearing, and she grips my arm with strong, forceful fingers as she lets out a low groan. She sways and breathes in long measured breaths.
“What comfort can I offer?” I ask, desperate to ease her suffering. I did this to her. I have to help in some way.
“Just be here. Be with me and keep me focused on the goal. Our baby is coming. Our son.”
She’s determined that we’re having a boy though she’s done none of the spells to truly find out. I’ve asked over and over if she’s had a vision or if this is just a guess, but she won’t tell me. Her hand tightens on mine again and she whimpers.
“Breathe through it, remember what we’ve practiced? You can’t let the pain rule you. It’s part of the process of bringing him to us.”
She nods, gritting her teeth. “Every contraction brings the baby closer to my arms.”
I smile and brush her hair away from her face. “Exactly right. We’ll get through this together.”
“Helena’s labor took days. Why is this going so fast?” she asks.
“Every child is different.”
A slight laugh leaves her. “Or maybe Lottie just wanted to wait because she knew her mum was a grumpy cow.”
I can’t stop my laughter. Helena isn’t the easiest woman to love, but over the last few months I’ve grown closer to her and all the members of the coven.
“Oh, fuck, this is hard,” she says as another contraction ripples her belly.
I do my best to rub circles into her lower back and soothe some of the ache.
It goes on this way for hours as her sisters prepare the room, offer her calming elixirs and tonics meant to ease her pain. Brooks and I take turns helping her through her labor, and at the end of it all we stand side-by-side and watch our beautiful son join our family.
We name him Galahad because Gwen said in all the legends that is the name of my son. Now it’s actually true.
Sneak Peek
On a Cold Winter’s Night
Read the first chapter of Gabriel and Ruby’s prequel which is included in
Such Violent Delights: A Holiday Paranormal Anthology
Their full length novel is scheduled for release in 2019.
Chapter 1
Ruby
I am so lost. The snow is falling in thick flakes, creating a mesmerizing tunnel in my rental car’s headlights. It’s an eerie sensation as I drive the narrow Scottish road in an attempt to get back to the little cottage I rented for the week. My car chugs up the hill, and I squint, hoping maybe that will help me see better. It doesn’t.
The car judders and gives a suspicious cough before I reach the top of the hill, and I have just enough time to pull over to the side of the road before it gives up the ghost.
I pull my phone off the charger, and my heart sinks at the sight of one-percent battery life.
“Shit,” I mutter, hitting the steering wheel of the little piece of junk. “Nothing works in this crap bucket.”
I wrap my scarf around my neck and shove the ends into the front of my heavy coat, thankful I’d been prepared. All my research told me Christmas in the Scottish Highlands means unpredictable weather, but cold temperatures are the constant. Getting out of the car, I step onto the slick road and immediately wish I’d added a second layer of clothing. It’s fucking freezing out here.
I walk to the crest of the hill in hopes I’ll be able to see the lights of the small village where I’ve been staying since yesterday. Lifting my phone, I pray to all the gods of every possible faith that my battery will last long enough for my GPS to show me where the hell I’ve ended up. I hold the phone high in the air and watch as the signal goes from one bar to none over and over.
“Come on, you bastard,” I say, walking around in search of a stronger connection. Then the screen goes dark. I shake the phone, hit it, scream at it, but there’s nothing aside from an electrical outlet that actually works that’ll bring the thing back to life.
An ominous cracking sound calls my attention back to my car. But my vehicle is not in the place I parked it. The green machine is rolling backward and into a snowy ditch before my very eyes.
“No!” I cry. There’s nothing I can do to save the car at this point. I trudge down the slick hill, taking careful steps in the thickening accumulation of snow on the ground.
I wrench open the door and grab my purse, slinging the bag over my shoulder and slamming the door shut again almost simultaneously. I haven’t seen a single car on this road in close to an hour, and by the way the snow is falling, I doubt anyone will be venturing out any time soon.
“This is how I die. Alone, on the side of a Scottish back road, at Christmastime.” Panic clutches at my chest. I can’t die here. I’m not ready. I’m only twenty-seven.
Glancing behind me, I see nothing but snow, trees, and endless road. I’ve got nowhere to go but forward at this point. So, I start walking. My feet go numb within minutes, but I keep forcing myself along the side of the road, hoping against hope I’ll come across someone.
The only sound is my feet crunching through the snow. It’s strange how muffled everything becomes when snow is falling. Almost like the curtain of white demands a hush fall over everything it touches. A sense of peace blankets me even as exhaustion takes hold, and I sit on the ground with my back against a tree. My eyelids droop as my body shuts down from the cold. This is it. I’m too tired to go on. I know with one-hundred-percent certainty that this is how I die. Stranded in the snow, a cautionary tale of traveling alone.
My vision goes gray as I drift off, suddenly warm and at peace. I wonder what I’ll find in the afterlife.
A bright golden light has me blinking my eyes open, and I smile when I see the most handsome man I’ve ever encountered. Wavy blond hair, almost glowing like a halo, eyes the color of glittering platinum, and a mouth made for all kinds of naughty things. He’s close, frowning in confusion as he stares at me. Reaching out, he caresses my face, his warmth drawing me to him. Everything around me is peace as I take his hand and rise. He’s not looking at me anymore, and that makes me sad. I want every ounce of his attention.
Looking behind me, I cock my head to the side when I see my body, seemingly asleep with a dusting of snow covering my form. “Am I dead?” I ask.
I turn my attention to the man and gasp when I see brilliant white wings spread behind him, the glow he’s emitting growing stronger with each passing second. He doesn’t say a word, but with a desperate sadness in his eyes, he shakes his head. Then, the angel, because that’s the only thing he can possibly be, takes my face in his hands and drops his lips to mine.
Stars burst behind my eyes, everything shattering as a rush of absolute pleasure and desire takes control of my consciousness. I gasp, breath rushing into my lungs and bone chilling cold overtaking my senses. The angel is still there, standing over me, and I try to lift my frozen hand to reach for him, but I’m too weak.
My last thought before the world goes dark is that my priest never told me angels were hot. If he had, maybe I would have gone to mass more often.
I’m warm. Curiously warm. And, as awareness creeps in, I’m also curiously naked and tucked in on a couch. Opening my eyes, I stay still but let my gaze travel around my surroundings. Intricately woven tapestries line the stone walls, and the high ceiling boasts arches and craftsmanship that instantly makes me wonder if we’re in the great hall of a castle. There’s a glow from a roaring fire across the room, but my assessment stops when my gaze lands on the man sitting in an arm chair with his focus trained on me. The man. The angel who saved me.
“You’re here…you…were in the snow,” I croak. “I thought you were an angel.”
He smirks but doesn’t say anything.
“I…Why am I naked?”
The man holds up his large hands, a softness in his gaze that eases my worry, but only slightly. “I found you on the side of the road. You’re lucky I saw you when I did. You seemed to be knocking at death’s door.” His voice is smooth and rich, a deep timbre with a gorgeous British accent.
“Thank you.” His gaze on me brings my focus back to my nudity. “That doesn’t explain why I’m naked.” I pull the heavy blankets up higher and burrow under them as if that will keep this man from ravishing me if he wants. The thought makes my nipples harden, and I wonder at my own state of mind. Have I already succumbed to Stockholm syndrome?
“Your clothes were soaked and cold. I had to get you warm.” He cocks an eyebrow and crosses his ankle over his knee. At least he’s not naked.
“What were you doing out in a snowstorm?” I ask.
“I could ask you the same question.”
He has a point. “I was heading back to the little house I rented in Inverness, but I got lost. What time is it?” I glance around in search of a clock, but don’t find one anywhere.
“It’s nearing midnight. Is there anyone expecting you to return tonight? Family? A boyfriend?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t have a family…or a boyfriend.”
“Why are you here alone at Christmas?”
“It’s my birthday. I’m twenty-seven.”
“Congratulations.” His dry tone has me clenching my fists under the blankets.
“This is my year of giving zero fucks. It might be stupid, but I’ve always been obsessed with the stories of Scottish witches, so I cashed in what savings I had, hopped on a plane, and treated myself to a birthday gift.”
“You gave yourself Scotland?”
“Exactly.”
“And it almost killed you.”
“Looks that way. But at least I got to see the highlands first.”
“And now you’re naked in a Scottish castle.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. “Speaking of that, can I have my clothes back now? Since I’m not dead and all.”
A grin turns up one corner of his mouth. “They’re drying on a line in the washroom. But I have a shirt you can wear.” He takes off the leather jacket, revealing a flannel over a light gray T-shirt that’s stretched across a broad chest. “Here, put this on. I’ll turn around.”
My cheeks heat at the knowledge he’s already seen me naked. Granted, I was near frozen, but naked is naked. “Thank you.”
His strong back is to me as he faces the corner of the room, as quick as I can, I slip the shirt over my nudity. I’ve got it buttoned and am sliding out of the make-shift bed to test the fabric’s length when he asks, “Will that do?”
The shirt hits me mid-thigh and it smells like heaven. I don’t know what combination of scents he wears, but I’m pretty sure I’ll neve
r forget this. “All I need is a belt and I’ll be lumberjack-chic.”
A frown furrows his brow, and a bolt of familiarity hits me square in the chest.
I stare him down, trying to puzzle it out. “Do I know you somehow?”
“No, we’ve never seen each other before a few hours ago.”
“I’m Ruby.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything.
“And you are?” I press.
“You can call me Gabe.”
“Well, Gabe, as soon as my clothes are dry, I’ll get out of your hair.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re not going anywhere in this storm. It’ll be days before the roads are clear.”
“What?” Panic creeps up my throat. “I’m…I can’t stay here.”
“You’re welcome to try your luck in the elements, but I guarantee, I’m less of a threat to your safety.”
I take in his tall, broad frame, the chiseled jaw and thick blond hair. He’s dangerous in a very different way. “That’s debatable.” Walking around the space, I run my fingers over the antique table and chairs, my bare feet cold on the stone floor. “You live here?”
“No.”
“Then how did we get here?”
He shrugs. “It was…available.”
“As in…you broke in?”
“I know the owner. They’re out of town for the holiday.”
“Why didn’t you just drive me to a hospital?”
That confused frown draws in his perfectly arched eyebrows again. “I don’t have a car. You were going to die. I made a decision that saved your life.”
“Wait…so you were just out for a walk in the middle of nowhere in a snow storm?”
“No.”
“I’m going to need a little more information.”
He sighs and runs a hand over his jaw. “I came for you.”
“For me?”