Born of Mist and Legend (Highland Legends Book 3)

by Kat Bastion

  “Trust me,” she whispered.

  He did. No matter what threat her magick posed to the timeline, he knew heart beat true.

  “Very well.” He’d grant her a measure of leeway.

  Holding her gaze, he hovered a hand above her outstretched palm.

  Then he made contact.

  A flash of brightness blinded him for an instant. Until absolute darkness prevailed.

  Thunderous shadow energy blasted into him. Cooling. Healing.

  In an instant, he’d been made whole.

  His hand still rested upon hers. And they stood within his…lair?

  “Aye,” she murmured in reply to his mental conclusion.

  “But…how…”

  “Your journal,” she supplied.

  Of course.

  “I’d been here before.” She grasped his other hand, slid both of her hands up his forearms, then tightened her fingers there. “And the marker for where your lair is located”—drawing a hand to her chest, she brushed her fingers over her heart—“has remained with me.”

  “But how did you make the jump. From Earth straight to here?” Not even Isobel could do that. He couldn’t go directly there. Angelkind arrived into their realm through their entry portal’s common field, the mist-filled place where no specificity—object or location—existed until summoned forth. No one had ever arrived in his dark private domain.

  “I chased after the pull.” Her two fingers gave a slight tap to her sternum.

  Skorpius sighed in frustration. Brigid had no words to describe whatever impulse she’d had. And angelkind had never been privy to the mechanisms of god powers.

  The complete absence of light in his inner sanctum made him want to make her comfortable. “Do you need me to illuminate this space?” The unique blue of his prismatic eyes gave him alone the ability to see in his dark-matter space.

  “Nay.” The silver sparked in her eyes. “I’m able to see.”

  Well, then. His mind blanked at the ramifications of that. Or the reason.

  Aside from himself, Brigid was the first.

  He’d once tried to bring Orion to the place of his rebirth. Then later, Cass. Neither had been able to see within the absolute nothingness of his private space.

  “What do you see?” Curiosity drove him to discover all he could.

  “Bluish black sparkles. A wee bit like the magick wall in Iain’s map room.” She hovered a hand over the polished rock face. “Only here, the power is stronger. The energy vaster. Colder, mayhap.”

  “We believe it’s ancient bedrock of my world. And as far as I’ve been able to investigate, this one pocket of mine is the only outcropping ever discovered within our realm. We only know about it because it’s where I—” He paused, at a loss for words himself. How do you describe the unbelievable? “Reawakened.”

  Brigid turned to face him, understanding clear in her expression. “After your mortal death.” Steady fingers stroked along the edge of his wing. “When you’d turned black as night.”

  “Yes.” He swallowed hard when her easy touch charged an illicit thrill through him. “Exactly.”

  Those beautiful silvery eyes searched his. “Before we speak of the ‘other’ reason for your guardin’ me, I wish to know what happened to me, in the glade, with the beasts.” She removed her hands, turned, then sat on one of the flatter natural formations that jutted up from the floor.

  The reminder of her actions in that battle caused him to draw a steadying breath. And had him perch on a rock pillar opposite her.

  The explanation will take some…effort. He’d been astounded by what she’d done. And moved far beyond what he had thought his hardened heart had been capable of.

  “Then ’tis good that I’ve brought you here, where you’ve become hale and whole. I’ll also be wantin’ to understand how I defeated the druids. If I’m your apprentice, then educate me, master.” Her tone lowered to a gentle tease.

  “Very well, apprentice.”

  The formal distance she’d initiated between them did not escape his notice.

  And since they’d taken seats, slowed their intimacy down, the timeline thread had also calmed. Which posed as both an interesting barometer and a riddle unto itself.

  Were they destined to become one? Had he merely been meant to educate her first?

  Or did the timeline view their coupling as an intolerable threat?

  Skorpius knew little of the breadth and depth of her powers, but he had discovered their source. For where he’d been reborn, so had Brigid. The walls around him had come alive with his presence, but they’d also electrified with her essence, bathing her in coolness, allowing her to see within its darkest womb. His “lair” nourished them both, but in different ways: recharging his power, aligning with hers.

  And although he still had yet to understand what skills she possessed and the limits to her powers, if any, he had witnessed an impressive display of her power in battle. Not once. But twice.

  “You are aware that those beasts that were attacking you hailed from another realm.”

  “Aye.”

  Their forms smacked of foul wizardry, one clue in a chain that had pointed to their cause. “And we now suspect they were summoned by Merlin.”

  “Aye.” Brigid glanced around, scanned the floor, walls, ceiling, before landing her gaze back at him. “I’m thinkin’ the events began here, but continued with your journal. Mayhap, my thoughts and my new magick manifested Merlin.”

  “His attention, for certain.” Skorpius had come to the same circular conclusion. “Yet in the glade, while defending yourself, you also manifested newly created beasts of your own.”

  Her brow wrinkled at either the realization or the memory. “Aye.”

  “After that, when the pressure mounted and threatened your life, everything in the glade… froze. Me included.”

  “Froze?”

  “Immobilized and iced.”

  “Nay.”

  “Then you collapsed, unconscious.”

  She frowned. “I remained aware of myself within, but no longer of the glade.”

  “Your magick was aware. Even though your body no longer responded, your magick took over as an extension of your will. Within the frozen stasis, I sensed your golden warmth scan through me, watched it shimmer at once through everything, every particle, each lifeform. Somehow, your magick determined what belonged there in that glade and what didn’t—which specific matter should exist in that specific realm.”

  Brigid’s attentive gaze never left his. “Did I…hurt…you?”

  “No.” He gave a hard headshake. “And that’s the astounding part. The concern you had for each lifeform vibrated through from your magick. I felt your care in the filtering process.”

  “Filterin’ process?”

  “Yes. Because in an instant. You unmade everything that didn’t belong.”

  “Unmade.” Her tone fell flat.

  “All the foreign beasts—Merlin’s and yours—winked out of existence.”

  “Winked.” Another flattened tone. From shock, not misunderstanding.

  He nodded, slow. “Then you unmade the event. To the last molecule, everything rewound to its condition before the fiery battle. The night sky was again fresh and clear, twinkling with stars. Every scorched treetop renewed to its former leafy green, swaying in the breeze. The clawed-up divots of earth replanted themselves. Each blade of crumpled grass stretched long, unbent.”

  “When I awoke, your feathers were coated in fine white powder. And you seemed… distressed.”

  “Because after everything had been restored, your magick then tried to unmake me. And you.” Every last nerve had felt as if it had caught angelfire. “I blasted out a torrent of magick to break free and protect us both. And the magick ‘ice’ that had entombed me burst into a white dust that rained down.”

  “But I dinna have the powder on me.”

  “I covered your body with mine, infused my magick with yours. And I willed your deadly magick to
see us as friend not foe, the same and belonging, not foreign to the realm.”

  Her steady gaze held his. “Why did that distress you?”

  Distressed was an understatement. The whole event rocked him to the core. “Because the selfless act proved your true essence. Your magick carried out a basic instinct to protect.”

  “But not to protect myself.” She gave a heavy blink. “Nor you.”

  “Exactly. You sought to protect all from you, if necessary.”

  Brigid’s expression hardened. Her chin dipped in a slow nod. But she said nothing further.

  The timeline thread, however, twanged with a vibration. A warning.

  Whatever conclusion she had come to had tipped the odds once again. Against her.

  After a deep breath, she straightened on her seat, drew her shoulders back, and lifted her head high. “I’ll be hearin’ the rest. Tell me how I survived the druids. And why their lives were spared.”

  Chapter 21

  A sense of forebodin’ shivered through Brigid as she waited for Skorpius’s explanation.

  The battle with the beasts had overcome her. Or her rather, her magick had.

  But the confrontation with the druids remained crisp and vivid in her mind. And yet, she still dinna understand the whole of it.

  Skorpius perched upon a rock steps away from her, more magnificent than ever in his own element. Fierceness hardened his gaze. Raw strength held his muscular body taut and ready.

  And heaven help her, every part of her, body, heart, and soul, ached to touch him. For all that he’d done for her, who he’d become in spite of the horrible pain he’d endured, and that he dared risk his heart again, humbled her.

  And yet, she had to be certain.

  Silent moments dragged by as Skorpius stared hard at her. As if he awaited her command before sharin’ unwelcome news.

  Straightening her spine, Brigid drew her shoulders back and gave him a ready nod.

  Never shiftin’ his gaze, he dipped his chin. “Very well. You learned from the first battle. Evolved. And you wielded even more powerful magick. By magnitudes. Yet instead of the magick overwhelming you, it energized you. Yours did. The druids’ did. Mine, as well. It’s as if your unique energy aligns with and then masters any other energy.”

  “But I dinna collapse that time. I remember all of it.”

  “You maintained control. And you orchestrated the outcome. Only instead of ‘freezing’ all the granite slabs, you disintegrated only the one. In demonstration.”

  The memory clarified, as if ’twas her reflection in a glassy loch settlin’ clear and true. “And the druids? Why dinna my magick unmake them?”

  “I have a couple of theories. None of us belonged in that multidimensional realm, therefore your magick wouldn’t have unmade them. But more than that, you maintained full awareness the second time. You knew they were testing you, no matter how real their threat was. You dealt them the blow of a valuable lesson instead of the finality of a death sentence.”

  Relief coursed through her. She valued life in all its forms, plant and animal. Although she’d had to destroy the beasts in order to protect herself, she’d also had the power to end the druids but had chosen not to. It soothed her to know that in the heat of battle, awash with magick, she’d been able to spare her opponent on instinct.

  “You said my magick aligns?”

  “It’s doing so now. Do you feel the power of the rock walls around you?”

  “Aye.” Brigid closed her eyes and inhaled, stretchin’ her senses outward. “’Tis like a cool spring rain. It refreshes. Energizes.”

  “Aside from me, you’re the first. Angelkind are created within this realm. We’re made of the elements from our world. And like detects like. But not here, not in the absolute darkness. Two of my closest brethren have tried. Nothing registers for them here.”

  “Who are your closest brethren?”

  “Cass and Orion.” The two white angels I’d chased and laughed with in your vision. “The closest to a sister and brother that any of angelkind could have.”

  “I would like to meet them.” Brigid stood. But she resisted the urge to approach him and walked to the nearest wall instead. She faced the bluish black surface so verra much like the wall within the castle she’d grown up in.

  She hovered a hand over the stone. But she took care not to touch, for her single touch of Brodie Castle’s wall had begun the entire chain of events. She respected the immense power the stone held.

  Warm breath danced along her bare shoulder. His incredible heat radiated from behind.

  Brigid turned to stare up into eyes of sparkin’ blue-green fire.

  Emotion shone in their depths as he smiled. “I would like you to meet Cass and Orion as well.”

  “In time, mayhap,” she murmured.

  All the magick in her stirred. It heated her from the inside out, beckonin’ to give in to her desires, surrender to fiery lust and turbulent emotions.

  So close. The temptation nigh won out over her great sense of responsibility.

  But not just yet. Skorpius replied, vibratin’ along her same energy wavelength.

  “Aye.” The time had come to talk about the ‘other’ reason he’d been sent to her.

  Brigid stared into the depths of his eyes, willin’ the outcome of their battle to be favorable.

  All of a sudden, a sharp pain snapped tight in her chest. “Och!” She winced, gaspin’ at the unexpected shock and stumbled forward.

  But as her knees gave way, Skorpius locked his hands around her forearms to steady her. “What is it?” Concern marred his brow.

  “Another pull. Heavier. Harder. ’Tis like a towel snapped inside my breastbone.”

  Skorpius straightened her up a bit. Long seconds passed while she fought to calm her breath. All the while, his gaze intensified. “Has the pain eased?”

  “Aye.”

  “Concentrate on where the sensation occurred, find the thread.”

  Her breath caught. “You want me to go back into the pain?”

  “Yes.”

  When her mouth fell open to argue, he gave a slight headshake. “If it’s what I suspect, then it’s not dangerous. It’s a communication line.”

  “Communication line,” she murmured. She dinna understand, but did as he asked and searched within for the point of pain.

  His mouth settled into a grim line. “I think your existence here created a tether.”

  “To what?” Closin’ her eyes, she concentrated on the spaces between her heartbeats.

  “We shall see.”

  “Och! I found it again,” she whispered. However, the snappin’ pain muted into a tolerable dull ache now, akin’ to the twist of sun-reddened skin.

  “Describe it.” His low tone vibrated with urgency. Or excitement. Mayhap a wee bit of both.

  Drawin’ slow breaths to isolate the pain, she concentrated within. “A kind of energy glitters along the length. Rooted at my center, behind my heart, it extends out, then…disappears.” She opened her eyes and stared down at the point between her breasts, as if to see another end protrude. But no mark showed. Nothin’ revealed itself.

  “More,” Skorpius demanded.

  To focus, she closed her eyes again. “The tug remains. A low vibration. Whatever that ‘tether’ is wants somethin’ important from me. My attention to some task. Akin to a wee one tuggin’ on its mother’s skirts.”

  “What task?” he prodded.

  “I doona know!” she bit out on a cuttin’ whisper.

  Then Brigid huffed out a breath to release her frustration, not at Skorpius, but at the difficulty of holdin’ attention on an elusive energy thread that shimmered in and out of detection. However, at the exact moment she relaxed a wee bit, her ability to distinguish the tether and its properties strengthened, clarified.

  So instead of forcin’ herself to chase the energy thread any longer, she relaxed. And while she centered on peacefulness, she drifted her awareness into a broader spectrum, allowi
n’ her attention to brush over the tether, without focusin’ directly upon it.

  “I’ve found it. The vibration appears to have slowed. The rhythm has altered as well.”

  “How so?” he coaxed, tone softened.

  “’Tis no longer a painful pull, no longer a needle tuggin’ a thread hard through my breast. The effect has gentled; ’tis now a tap on my shoulder. Someone wishin’…to gain an audience.”

  “Friend or foe?”

  “Hmmm…” She focused to analyze the character of the energy, the essence of the vibration. “The thread has a goodly quality. Friend.”

  No further proddin’ followed.

  When she opened her eyes, his glittered down at her, energized with amusement.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “I…” Uncertainty washed over his expression. ’Twas as if hesitation stopped him.

  Understandin’ dawned upon her and she gave a heavy blink. “You felt the tug.”

  Those intense eyes narrowed a fraction. “I have, in a manner of speaking.”

  “In all the manners I described?”

  Skorpius straightened, shoulders pullin’ back a wee bit. “Yes.”

  “Och!”

  Frustrated on a whole other level at him, she struggled to free her forearms from his grasp.

  Skorpius only tightened his grip.

  So she burst forward all her physical energy and shoved him. Hard.

  Leviathan that Skorpius was to her slighter frame, he passively let her meager force stumble him backward. But he jerked her forward with him, and she tumbled headlong into his embrace.

  Fists trapped between their bodies, she pounded on his solid chest. “You were teasin’ me.”

  He arched a regal brow. “I was teaching you, as requested.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Doona play my words back at me.”

  On impulse, she fought to free herself from the intimate hold. But his arms remained, bands of iron forged around her. And a pleasurable surge of warmth sizzled through her body. She pushed and fought harder against him. Yet the greater she struggled, the hotter the current pulsed into all kinds of sensitive places, tantalizin’—erotic.