Christie hesitated. More dragons rushed the open door. They took all Christie’s power to hold them back. “Shut it!” she bellowed. “Shut it now!”
He glanced her way. Then he darted through the door onto the roof after her and shut the door behind him. He fought his way to her side just as Ivy rid herself of the flapping menaces holding her.
Christie grabbed her arm. “Come! We must get downstairs. I must take the women and children to safety, and ye cannae remain up here.”
“How?” Ivy asked. “We can’t get back through without letting them inside.”
He looked around. He knew she was right. They were trapped. Before she or Christie could do a thing, hundreds of the small dragons attacked at once. They might not be very big, but in their sheer numbers they could overpower anything.
Ivy got her blade half unsheathed before they dragged her to the ground. Christie batted them off his head and pulled his saber. Ivy heard it whistle through the air. The next sound she heard was the blade striking bone. Then all hell broke loose.
Screeches and screams ripped through the air. The dragons attacking Ivy broke off to turn their attention on Christie. That gave her a few inches of space to get her feet under her and her weapons bared.
She launched herself at Christie. She hacked the dragons off his head, but she only attracted them back to herself. They slapped their wings in her eyes and shredded her skin with their claws. Their high-pitched shrieks set her teeth on edge.
She squinted to protect her eyes, but she never took her flinty gaze off her enemies. She aimed her axe at their heads and necks. She chopped their wings and legs off with her blade. She reveled in the blood spurting from their severed arteries.
She never thought of herself as a bloodthirsty killer, but here she was, enjoying every minute of it. Even the thought that she might die fighting these creatures gave her extra power to hunt them down one after the other. She snarled in rage and delivered one well-aimed cut after another to their frail bodies.
They fell before her eyes, but more of them kept appearing out of nowhere. Where did they come from? The Earth itself disgorged them at the castle faster than any human force could drive them off.
In the chaos of battle, she backed up against something solid. She glanced over her shoulder at the same moment Christie glanced over his. They stood back to back against these things.
The next instant, they both whipped around to fight harder than ever. They pressed their backs together and gave each other strength. Ivy didn’t have to worry about any dragon coming up behind her, and Christie could trust her to protect him in return.
She spotted a patch of blue sky in front of her. Dozens of black wings waved before her, but at least it was there. She was winning. She and Christie were making a dent in these things. Their combined efforts reduced the numbers. If they could only keep it up, they would destroy these things and win the island a few months’ peace before the next assault.
Her spirit launched into that clear blue firmament, but at that moment, powerful teeth sank into her leg just above the knee. Ivy winced in pain. She turned, and the teeth crunched deeper into her flesh. They tore the ligaments supporting her knee, and her leg buckled.
She came down hard on her knees. She couldn’t stop herself crying out, but she didn’t stop fighting. She had to protect Christie. He depended on her. She still had two good arms and two good weapons. She would take as many of these monsters down as she could before they tore her to shreds.
Christie spun around to help her, and all the dragons flew in his face. He had all he could do just to stay alive. Ivy waved her blade above her head. She stabbed the dragons under their wings when they flew over her head. She hacked their wings off and listened to their stricken screams when they hit the ground bleeding to death.
The harder she fought, the more dragons piled on top of her. Their teeth sunk into her neck and arms. Pain tore her spirit apart. She couldn’t keep this up much longer.
Her child. The sight of the little wolf pup curled up in her belly flashed before her eyes. Her soul cried out to protect it, but she couldn’t stand against this assault.
Christie roared above her head, but she couldn’t see him through the masses of dragons covering both of them. They pushed Ivy to the ground. Blood ran from her wounds, and it wasn’t dragon blood this time. A few more bites, and they would flay her flesh from her bones, the same way they killed Kincaid.
Despair sapped her strength. She still moved her blade around, but she no longer put her heart and soul into every cut. What was the point of fighting it? She started to sink under the tide of bodies when a loud crash startled her. She looked up.
The roof door slammed back, and Lachlan burst onto the battlements. He took one look around, and black fury clouded his face. He charged the dragons bringing Ivy and Christie down, but one man couldn’t stand against that teeming mass of bodies.
For an instant, the dragons quailed before his blade. He waded into their midst and sent them spinning off into space. The next moment, the dark swarm closed over his head. They pecked and ripped and nipped him. They weighed him down until he couldn’t fight back, either.
Lachlan staggered and fell. He pitched forward within a few inches of Ivy’s face. They saw each other through the curtain of wings, and he put out his hand to her. She tried to reach him, but they were too far apart.
How could it end like this? How could she die within inches of her beloved and not be able to touch him one last time? The same questions haunted his eyes. At least they would die together. At least neither of them would have to live without the other.
All of a sudden, the dragons flew off both of them. They ripped their sunken claws out of Ivy’s skin, and they hurtled away into thin air. Ivy glanced up, and she could barely believe her eyes.
Standing right in front of her, a young woman surveyed the scene with mild brown eyes. The wind off the sea tussled her dark hair. She observed the battle without a trace of surprise or dismay.
Ivy blinked at her. “Alexis!”
At that moment, the hordes of dragons came racing back in for the attack. They completely ignored Lachlan, Christie, and Ivy. They narrowed their eyes at Alexis and bared their fangs to tear her apart.
They all rushed in at once. The black mass of wings and claws and teeth converged on the roof from all directions. At some unseen signal, all the dragons unleashed their fiery breath on Alexis’s defenseless form. A perfect ring of fire blasted at Alexis to roast her alive.
Alexis never moved. She didn’t bat an eyelash. The dragons got within a fraction of an inch of her head when a bone-shattering thunderclap boomed across the island. A piercing flash of white light exploded out from Alexis, and in the blink of an eye, nothing remained but the castle, the impassive sea, and the clear blue sky.
Chapter 34
Lachlan stood at one end of the Great Hall in Castle Duart. Christie stood at his side. They both wore their dress tartans, and Lachlan wore the insignia of his rank on his plaid.
The people packed into the hall shifted and fidgeted in their fancy clothes. The ladies’ dresses rustled, and the men’s weapons clinked when they bumped into each other. Lachlan never moved a muscle. He kept his eyes riveted on the far doorway where he would catch his first sight of Ivy.
He hadn’t seen her in three days, not since that fateful afternoon when Alexis appeared, banished the dragons from the Isle of Mull, and vanished the same way she appeared. Where was she now? No one could guess, and Lachlan didn’t care to.
Only one thing mattered now. He made the arrangements the instant he raised Ivy to her feet on that bloody roof. He sent her in care of Mrs. Macrae, and he hadn’t seen her since. Now his destiny hinged on the moment she appeared in that doorway. He would see her. He would marry her, and they would go home to their own room upstairs, never to be separated.
News of the Laird’s upcoming nuptials spread all over the Isles. Dignitaries came from far and wide to attend the ceremony. N
o one knew Ivy was already pregnant with Lachlan’s heir. They didn’t need to know. A few days here or there wouldn’t make any difference to anybody counting on their fingers.
He dared not imagine what she would look like. He could trust Mrs. Macrae to take Ivy’s trousers away and burn them. She was Lady of the Isles—or at least, she would be. Mrs. Macrae would make sure Ivy came to her wedding day dressed appropriately.
None of the visiting dignitaries and Clan leaders asked after Lachlan’s choice of wife, and he didn’t extend any explanations. Christie, Colin, and Clyde understood, and Christie couldn’t speak highly enough of Ivy. Lachlan cared nothing for anybody else’s opinion.
A flurry of excitement rippled through the room from the doorway. Then the room fell silent. The crowd parted in hushed astonishment, and he saw her. She wore a pale silver gown that touched the floor. A diamond of glistening pearls angled from her tight bodice to her slender, corseted waist. Her dark hair piled on top of her head, and a gleaming disk of shell inlaid with gold hung around her neck to nestle in her cleavage.
A delicate blush flashed over her cheeks when her eyes met his. She glided into the Hall between the admirers lined up on either side. She glanced right and then left. Then she fixed her eyes on Lachlan and never looked aside again.
She floated on a misty cloud of satiny crinoline. He saw only her eyes coming closer until she stood before him. Somehow, their hands came together and he drew her to his side in front of old Father McTavish.
The priest’s voice droned over the crowd. Lachlan didn’t listen to a word he said. He drank in the heavenly sight of Ivy standing in front of him. A divine light shone down on her head, and his heart split with love for her.
How did he survive the last three days without her? How did he live all these years alone? He never knew how much he needed her because he never knew she existed.
Something called him to find her under the ocean, and that’s what he did. He never quit until he brought her up, and he would never quit until he made her his own. Now she was bearing his child, and he faced another challenge all over again.
No battle against supernatural forces could compare with the challenge ahead. He would be a husband and a father. He would be Laird of another generation of McLeans. He would wrestle with his pups in these halls. He would run and hunt with them in the forests and across the island moors. His whole future rested in this woman standing before him. The priest couldn’t say anything that came close to expressing that.
At last, the priest’s tone changed. It penetrated Lachlan’s mind, and he snapped alert. “Do ye, Lachlan Wallace McLean, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, forsaking all others, as long as ye both shall live?”
He gazed into her eyes and said the words with all his heart. “I do.”
“And do you, Ivy Marie Tennant, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, forsaking all others, as long as ye both shall live?”
She blushed again. She glanced down at their hands clasped together in holy union. “I do.”
“Do ye have the ring?”
Christie came forward and placed the ring in Lachlan’s hand. Lachlan slipped it onto Ivy’s finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
No one breathed in the hall. Ivy’s warm hands rested in his. Already he sensed the deep vibrant energy flooding into him though her skin. She was his.
Father McTavish closed his book. “I now pronounce ye man and wife. Ye may kiss the bride.”
Lachlan hesitated. The crowd hung on every moment, but he couldn’t rush this. He gazed down into her beautiful face. She never looked more beautiful than she did right now, but in that moment, all the other times flashed before his eyes.
He saw her windblown on that mountain opposite Jura. He saw her blood-soaked and deadly with gore and filth streaming through her hair and teeth. He saw her soaring through the underwater realm hellbent on saving his life.
He was marrying all of that. He welcomed her every shade and mood with his whole heart. He probably knew her better than any Laird of Duart ever knew his bride in all McLean history, and knowing it all only made him love her more.
She was deadly. She was immaculately soft and delicious when she lay in his arms that freezing cold night at the Tower House. She was regal in the creamy gown she had on when he first brought her out of the ocean.
She would be all those things to him now, too, and for many years to come. He would have to respect all those aspects of her personality. He would have to make allowances for the fact that she came from a different world. He would have to give her a wide rein.
Someone in the crowd cleared his throat, and Lachlan realized he hadn’t kissed her yet. Everyone waited for him to do it, but in his mind, he already had. He already married her and spent the rest of his life loving her.
They slept together every night. He saw her give birth to their children. He nursed her when she got sick, and she tended him in return. All the years of their future already happened, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.
He slipped his hand around her waist and pressed her against him. He let his lips fall on her mouth, and they shared a delicate little kiss—nothing to scandalize the neighborhood. She was his to enjoy, but he would save her for their private chamber where he could explore her in peace and serenity.
The instant he broke away from her mouth, the Hall erupted in applause. Christie clapped him on the shoulder, and the crowd surged forward to shake his hand and congratulate him. He held Ivy’s hand and never let her go.
Lachlan lost track of one face after another. None of that mattered now. When he looked around, he found Christie at his side. The young man never wavered, and he didn’t press himself on Lachlan. He was just there. He was always there. He would never be anywhere else.
Through the whole wedding feast that followed, Lachlan kept Ivy by his side. She was his prize, his treasure, his reward. Now he was a married man. He was Laird by right.
Night fell, and the feasting and festivity went on and on. Clansmen arrived to join the merry-making and congratulate the couple. They packed the castle to the rafters.
At sundown, Lachlan took Ivy’s hand, and they said their farewells to the multitude. They left the Great Hall, and Lachlan led her upstairs to his room. He closed the door and turned around.
There she was, exactly the way he envisioned her. She filled his whole world to bursting. She handled every state greeting with the same easy grace with which she decorated his bedroom. She was all the Lady he ever needed.
He drew closer to her. Her eyes glistened in the candlelight. Her ruby lips parted when she smiled up at him. Had she been dreaming of him the same way he dreamed of her? Gravity attracted their lips together, and once they met, they wouldn’t come apart.
She draped her creamy arms around his neck. He had to taste her mouth. His lips opened, and she matched him. They devoured each other in greedy, lusty bites. He circled her thin waist in his arms and lifted her against him.
Her sweet breath filled his brain. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted her bared and exposed the way he had her before. He had to get these stiff clothes off her so he could taste and experience every part of her.
He scooped her up in his arms. He carried her to the bed, but their lips would never come apart. He buried his face up the eyeballs in her delectable kiss.
He spread her out on the bed and went to work on her dress. He took his time between kisses. He unbuttoned it with extreme care so he wouldn’t damage the dress. He unlaced her corsets, and she heaved a sigh of relief.
He peeled off one layer after another until she lay naked on his bed. He loosened her hair, and he caressed his palm down her smooth curves the way she touched him back at the Tower House.
The fire blazed on the hearth. The chandelier full of candles lightened the room, but they were back there, alone
, in the endless night.
She gazed up into his eyes. Her breath breezed through her parted lips, all ready for his kiss. Her skin quivered when he touched her. Her ivory thighs glided against each other when he traced his fingertips up their smooth lines.
Chapter 35
Ivy raised her hands to touch Lachlan. She watched her own movements from a curious removed. She didn’t have to do anything. It happened all by itself. Something outside herself caused her to unpin his plaid from his shoulder and push it down. Some other force of nature moved her fingers over his shirt buttons to expose his chest.
How did she wind up here? One minute, she was working in an office downtown and going home to her shared room in a suburban house. Now she was married to a Scottish Laird in some fantasy version of ancient Scotland. She was pregnant with a child that wasn’t human and on the road to an uncertain future cursed by Fate.
Knowing all those things couldn’t taint the magic of this moment. Nothing could make Lachlan’s skin less precious to her touch. She slipped her hand inside his shirt, and the tortured catch of his breath sent a lick of excitement through her insides.
He didn’t help her slide the shirt off to expose his curved muscles underneath. He sat back and let her stroke his chest and shoulders and stomach, down to the heavy leather belt holding his kilt on.
Her limpid eyes slid up to his face when she touched his belt. All their struggles led to this moment. She never envisioned, that far-off night at Moy Castle, that she would be lying here right now, his lawfully wedded wife.
Emotion churned in his face, and he struggled to hold himself together. This moment meant as much to him as it did to her. They were safe, and they were together for all time. Nothing could come between them.
She unbuckled his belt, but instead of standing up to take his clothes off, he bent over and kissed her again. He enfolded her in his arms, and her hands slithered inside his clothes. His heat, his spirit—they were all hers to take. She could make him happy. She could envelope his being in her protective heart.
Sea Queen (Phoenix Throne Book 6): A Scottish Highlander Time Travel Romance Page 23