by Kat Bastion
And Brigid had seen it without his knowledge. Yet on some level, deep in his fractured psyche while he’d been compromised and vulnerable—a time when the truest self is revealed—he’d invited her to his past. Two very different pasts.
In both instances, his magick, her magick, and codes wiring his very DNA, had given her the key. And Brigid had had the wherewithal and pluckiness to unlock the door.
“How much—” Skorpius closed his eyes. Not to keep past emotions at bay, those had died many centuries ago. But to keep a tight rein on his emotions now. Something he’d been struggling with for the last few days. For around Brigid, the world seemed to reset itself. His fractured heart included. “How much did you see?”
“Not verra much.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “You stood in an empty room. Stone walls. No bed. Only a desk. The journal. And a tall narrow window that looked out onto a snowy landscape.”
“The monastery. Where I’d sequestered myself after…” He paused, refocusing on the present discussion and what she needed to know, nothing more. “After my plunge from grace. And it wasn’t always stark and wintery.”
“Nay. Another image materialized. You sittin’ on a wooden barrel in an overgrown garden. Bees buzzed through the air, attendin’ to all manner bright colored blossoms. An ancient tree stretched overhead. You seemed at peace under its great twistin’ boughs.”
“We have that in common.”
“Aye.” Brigid’s voice softened. “A love for trees.”
Skorpius closed his eyes and burrowed his face into her soft riot of copper curls. He inhaled the sweet wild scent of Brigid in the here-and-now, and forced himself not to imagine the stark scene she’d witnessed: a human life filled with the deep pain of sorrow, regret, and atonement for unforgivable selfish actions.
“Nature is where one retreats when nothing else in the world brings solace,” he murmured.
“Aye.” Her heavy tone brought understanding. Commonality.
He turned toward her. “What I’ve done—”
A slender finger pressed to his lips again, begging his silence. “We need not speak of it.”
Very well. For the best. For both their sakes. Neither side ever benefited from knowledge of past lovers.
The transgression, however? Another story. Critical for them to even consider a next step. Their connection, the outcome of their relationship no matter what came to pass, depended on it. Therefore, the fate of all the worlds depended on Skorpius and Brigid being on the same page.
“But you understand…what I went through. And why.”
“Aye.” Unshed tears glittered in her eyes. “You’d given up your angelic world to become someone…somethin’…else. For someone you…cared about. ’Twas honorable.”
Skorpius choked out a laugh. “We’re talking about the same mortal sin, correct?”
A weak smile tugged at her lips. “A man in love.” Boldly stated, no more dancing around. “A woman who loved you. Who’s to say that your sacrifice dinna heal her soul?”
“I say,” he ground out. He wouldn’t revisit the intimate details. But he wouldn’t gloss over the facts of the matter either.
Undaunted, Brigid gave him a stern look. “I say nay.” A patient breath filled her lungs. “Your paths crossed, then wound together. Whatever happened because of your actions? ’Tis not your fault. Mayhap much bloodshed was avoided because of your liaison.”
Skorpius stared at her for long silent seconds. “You’re an optimist?”
Gaze locked with his, her brow furrowed. “Op-ti-mist?”
“A dreamer.” Heart softening further at the truth of her essence, he brushed a shining errant lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her perfect ear.
“Nay.” She gave a dismissive headshake. Then she glared at him with a loaded look: Take her seriously or not at all. When he gave an imperceptible nod of cooperation, her expression softened and she cocked her head. “You were sent there?”
“Yes. On a mission.”
“To guard her?”
“Yes.” Skorpius clasped her hand, entwined their fingers, then gave a reassuring squeeze. Only one female mattered to him now.
Brigid held tight to his hand. “Did she know you were an angel?”
He huffed out a half laugh. “Yes. Angels make their powerful presence obvious. Part of our arsenal. Shock-and-awe. White wings and all.”
“Aye.” Her slow scan traveled from the black ends of his hair, then down the length of his wing. “I prefer your dark colors,” she murmured. A tender gaze lifted to meet his. “And the deep jeweled tones of your eyes now pleases me most. If it matters.”
“It does.”
“Weel, then. Listen to me, angel. If what I think matters, then you must accept what was. Just as now, we must accept what is. Fightin’ what is has never done anyone a bit of good.”
“How old did you say you were?” Far wiser than her human years.
“I dinna.” Brigid’s eyes narrowed. “It matters?”
Unable to help himself, Skorpius smiled. “It does not.” In the midst of a heavy topic, she managed to sprinkle golden light into the mood.
“Eighteen summers.”
He pinched his eyes shut, sighed heavily, then dropped his chin to his chest.
Tight fingernails pricked his forearm. “You said it dinna matter!”
“And it doesn’t.” Not in any significant sense. Young and innocent of the flesh? Perhaps. But Brigid’s ties to her former world and all its rules had begun to fray. One of only a rare few in all the realms, she’d transcended to a higher order, where the laws and morality of the material world held no sway. Skorpius gave her a serious look. “You are far older than your physical years. Were that not the case, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Relief and confusion washed over her delicate features. Making her appear all the younger.
Goddess, Skorpius reminded himself. Already more powerful than you, he grudgingly admitted. “Besides, if we were talking about your former Earth world, eighteen summers is old enough by anyone’s standards.” And even then, Brigid had proved far wiser than her tender years.
With a gentle tug of the arm her fingers still gripped tight, he pulled her slight weight against him. Soft curves tempted under that diaphanous golden gown. But beneath her decadent packaging was the steel spine of a leader and the granite heart of a warrior.
When Skorpius began to turn his head, his lips a hairsbreadth from tasting her succulent mouth, a loose end snapped unbidden through his mind. He drew his head back and searched her joyful silvery eyes.
“But that still doesn’t answer how you obtained my journal.”
Chapter 19
Excitement buzzed along Brigid’s nerves, quickenin’ her breaths.
Intoxicatin’ heat flowed through her veins, flushin’ up to warm her skin, sizzlin’ down to burn other, more intimate, parts.
With her head fogged from the dizzyin’ sensations, from Skorpius’s nearness, from his incredible maleness, it took several heartbeats to realize he’d paused right when he was about to kiss her. And…he’d asked her a question.
Furrowin’ her brow, Brigid sucked in a clearin’ breath and straightened away from the delicious source of her body’s loomin’ thunderstorm.
“Nay.” She gave a slight headshake. “I dinna fully explain how I came upon it.”
Those sapphire-emerald eyes swirled. “Enlighten me.” His voice deepened, commandin’.
And Jesu! that firm tone burst an electric pulse of heat through her body all over again.
Brigid narrowed her eyes at him and drew in another calmin’ breath. “If you keep orderin’, I’ll be takin’ my sweet time in the tellin’.”
His glower intensified. Master. Apprentice.
But as his reminder boomed into her mind, a bit of wicked amusement sparked in his eyes.
Her skin flushed hotter. “Cease your teasin’.”
“Then get on with the tellin’,” he further taunted. As if he kne
w in full measure how his dominatin’ continued to affect her.
“Aye.” She blew out a slow breath and surrendered to their sensual quarrel. “I’ll be tellin’ the tale. And ’tis not a whole tale till you hear from first to last.”
With the corners of his mouth twitchin’ as he fought a smile, he stretched out and reclined back on a bent arm. “I promise not to interrupt.”
“Weel, as I watched you—mortal Lancelot-you—in the garden, my gaze fell upon what had captured your focused attention. Quill in hand, head bent forward, you penned with great concentration onto a linen page. Now and then, your expression shifted from sorrowful to thoughtful. After a time, my gaze fell upon a stack of pages at your feet, weighted by a rock. Then my thoughts drifted to your journal.
“All of a sudden, Lancelot-you vanished along with the garden and the light of that day. Darkness surrounded me. Till pricks of light glittered before my eyes. Which illuminated another me.
“Somehow, I’d gone back in time to when I’d first touched the wall. Many months ago. I’d done so to save our clan, to make Brodie Castle disappear.”
Brigid paused when he nodded his understandin’, of their need to hide their castle and how the wall worked. ’Twould make sense that he’d know. Angelkind had gifted the castle and its many secrets to their clan generations ago.
“My human self dinna acknowledge my time-travel presence. She simply passed through the wall, as before. And I followed, stridin’ through white mist behind her. Nigh at once, we appeared within a chamber of dense rock, made of a bluish black substance, much like the wall in Iain’s map room that we’d passed through. It appeared to be a cave, but ’twas more. And so verra dark. No light penetrated.”
Skorpius said nothing. But he watched her with rapt attention.
“’Twas your lair, was it not?”
He gave a nod. “For the beast I’d become.”
“’Twas within that cave that your book…materialized. It hovered in the air like a smoky cloud in the darkest night. As an offerin’ to my human self. And fascinated by the magickal world, and delighted by the unexpected gift, I…or rather she…accepted it without question.”
Finished with her explanation, Brigid took a deep breath.
When Skorpius dinna respond, she gave a half smile. “You may now speak. Mayhap you’ll have a better idea of how I’d come upon your journal than I.”
His brows arched a wee bit. “A time paradox, actually.”
Her brows furrowed.
“Your goddess presence, after you’d watched my human self in the garden, influenced your finding my ‘lair’ and the book.”
When her mouth fell open, but no words came forth to express her confusion, he continued. “Whether or not your human self knew you’d appeared, your goddess presence carried a residual thought of what you’d just witnessed, my past. That residual image impacted you enough to remain with you when you time-jumped to your past. And as you followed yourself into the angelic realm, my world reacted by providing you with what you most desired.”
“Nay.” Brigid blinked heavily. “’Tis not possible. I’d just materialized in the past. All these events transpired only because I’d gone through the wall. My goddess self wouldna… couldna have been there unless my human self had ventured there first. Alone.”
“Ergo the time paradox.”
Feelin’ a bit lightheaded, she eased herself further to the ground and stretched onto her back beside him. She stared up at the glitterin’ protective shield she’d erected, made of her unbelievable magick mixed with a touch of his dark energy. “I doona have any…” words… thoughts…
Makes perfect sense to me. The tone of his mental voice held a hint of amusement.
Bewildered, she glanced sideways at him.
“Time doesn’t happen in a linear format. There is no ‘past’ or ‘future.’ Now is all that ever exists. And every now is folded upon itself. Happening all at once. So both of your selves, human and goddess, had been connected. Not one before the other, but both together. Your goddess self was always there with your past self, even the first time.”
“My head aches tryin’ to understand that nonsense.”
Skorpius tugged her into his embrace and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.
“Don’t waste energy trying to figure out the chaos of life. We’re far better surrendering to what is.” The last, her stern words from moments ago, repeated in his own way.
Turnin’ in his arms, she gazed at him. “True wisdom for the ages.”
Skorpius coughed out a laugh. “Ages, all right. How long it’s taken me.”
“Surrenderin’, you say?” Both stubborn and willful, they shared difficulty with the task.
“Apparently.”
“What say you, mayhap we find a lesson there?”
“In surrendering?” His brow furrowed in confusion.
“Aye.”
“Okay…” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll play along.”
“Your lair.” She had a suspicion. A leap from some feelin’ she’d had while there.
“What…about…my…lair.” His tone deepened with each slow-spoken word.
“A place wholly absent of light. Unlike any other, I’m guessin’. ’Tis your lair because only in that place are you able to fully regenerate. Its deepest darkness nourishes your body and soul.” The unique place had a silky power to it. Cool and fresh, yet filled with an unusual kind of sizzlin’ vibrational energy.
The adorable confusion on his face made her smile.
Then his expression darkened. A quick inhale preceded his entire body going rigid.
Skorpius’s eyes closed. And for a brief moment, he seemed to drift far away, even though his body remained firmly wrapped around her.
Till he shook his head, as if to clear it from a daze.
Concerned, Brigid gripped his arm. “Where did you go?”
“Nowhere.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Within.”
Hands gently grippin’ her shoulders, he straightened her away from him. Then he took her hand and heaved them both up from the ground. Expression grave, he stared deep into her eyes. “We need to have a talk.”
“Another talk?” Brigid laughed and shook her head. “Nay. ’Tis not required. I’m settled with your past. With mine.” A soft sigh escaped her lips at the vastness of emotion that filled her heart. Liftin’ her other hand, she brushed aside a long lock of black hair that had blocked one of his bright jeweled eyes, then rested her palm over his cheekbone. “I’m settled about us.”
The sweet warmth of his larger hand covered hers.
But then he clasped on tight and drew her hand away. “Reserve how settled you are.”
His expression hardened, eyes clouding over, mouth firming into a grim line. He drew in a slow breath. “It’s past time you know.”
An electric frisson of unease rattled her nerves. “Know what?”
“The other reason I’ve been sent here.”
Chapter 20
A burst of golden magick saturated Skorpius as Brigid shot trembling fingers to his lips. “Cease!”
And his lips hardened shut, immobilized by her sudden power-backed command.
Then a second, more powerful twang reverberated along the timeline thread, reinforcing the first that had startled him moments ago—what had prompted his decision for full disclosure. Because the timeline had come under greater threat again. Perhaps from his and Brigid’s growing closer, since the sudden change coincided with their mutual desire to cross that intimacy line.
Yet her power-aggression had been unintentional, of that he had no doubt. She’d wanted him to stop talking with such force, her newfound magick obeyed and turned her wish into reality with the punch of manifestation energy.
You know that’s not how it works, apprentice. I don’t need my lips to move to be able to communicate.
Och! Brigid’s eyes widened, and she pulled back her fingers to stare at his unmoving mouth. And a minute amount of probing mag
ick shimmered through him as she surveyed what she’d done. Then another burst of warmth released her silencing command.
“Please.” Her eyes welled with tears. “Not here. Not now.”
Skorpius tilted his head, surprised on multiple counts. She acted as if she already knew the bad news he’d been about to deliver. And that she suspected the consequence of him speaking it aloud would halt their actions.
Interesting. Yet since their entire circumstances remained in uncharted territory, Skorpius saw no harm in playing along. In fact, Brigid forcing the path they took influenced the outcome. Why not leave Brigid’s fate in her own hands? “Then where? And when?”
With a drawn-out exhale, she stared hard at him. Another scan of her warming magick shimmered through him. “You’ve not yet fully healed.”
“That takes time when I’m in your Earth-realm.” Skorpius glanced up at the glaring afternoon sun. “More time in broad daylight. Less in the deep recesses of your caves.” He pointed behind her, high up on the jagged cliff face where he’d flown them before.
But instead of glancing back toward the cave, Brigid scanned their protective shield. She focused on the portion darkened by his shadow-magick, then her gaze grew distant. “Time folds in on itself.”
“So I’ve mentioned.”
“And you have a lair.” A slight smile curved her lips.
“More crash-pad than home, but yes.” He failed to connect those two dots together.
“You said ’twould be good for you to be at full strength.”
Brigid reached an open hand toward him.
Exactly as he’d done before with her, from within that cliffside cave. When he’d offered to guide her into her past.
“Brigiiid…” Skorpius’s tone hummed low in warning. Whatever Brigid planned, instinct told him she wasn’t ready for. The timeline tether apparently didn’t like it either, as the thread vibrated at an escalating frequency.
“Nay.” Brigid shot him a nonnegotiable glare. “’Tis my life. To live or forfeit.”
True. And with as powerful as Brigid had grown, immortal as well, as Guardian of Time, no matter his compromised state, he still had the ability, and duty, to end her.