“So he is enchanting you now?” He kept frowning as he wrapped her in a blanket, poured her some whiskey then rebuilt the fire. “How do we combat that?”
“I think we just did. At least for now.” She took a few sips. “If it happens again, you know what to do.”
“Assuming ‘tis me you’re trying to protect,” he pointed out, not happy with this at all. “What if it’s someone else?” He shook his head as he poured himself a drink. “They’ll have no ability to save you because they dinnae share our memories.”
“What if...” Her eyes lingered on the gem. “What if this is it, Conall?” Her eyes met his with a flicker of hope that made his chest tighten. “What if I wasn’t just protecting you but we’ve actually ignited the power of the ring?” A small smile curled her lips. “Isn’t the ultimate goal in every MacLomain, Broun connection to have the gem turn the color of a specific wizard’s eyes?”
“Aye,” he said softly, just as hopeful as her. “That being her one true love.”
Their eyes held for a moment before she focused on the fire. “I think I’ve always loved you, Conall.” Her voice grew softer. “In one way or another.”
He had never been so thankful to hear those words, as vague as they sounded.
“Then use that.” He sat beside her. “Use whatever love you felt back then, the friendship we shared, against this evil.” He tilted her chin until their eyes met again. “Use it not to embrace the darkness you found comfort in but to confront whatever stands in your way. Whatever tries to turn your power around on you.”
She nodded, her eyes soft as they stayed with his. “I can use that and so much more.”
Not entirely sure what to make of that and unwilling to pressure a firm declaration of love out of her, he simply offered a comforting smile. There was nothing more difficult than having that conversation earlier. To ask her to stay and marry him, yet see such confusion in her eyes. To know that she might very well leave him. Worse yet, because he loved her, he would have to let her go. Because his only concern was for her safety and happiness, even if it was at the expense of his own.
Clearly intent to navigate around the conversation, she sipped her whisky, eyed it absently and chuckled. “Because of you, I can appreciate the taste of this, you know.”
When he perked his brows, curious, she grinned. “So you haven’t figured it out yet?”
“Nay.” He met her grin. “What?”
“That day you threw the skin of whisky up into the tree because I was crying.” Lindsay nudged his shoulder with hers. “I caught it you know.” She chuckled again. “I’d never tasted such God-awful stuff. Or at least that’s what I thought at first. The more I drank it, the more I liked it though.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately, I never did find whisky as good as yours again.”
“Well, I’m glad I helped develop your pallet.” It was hard to do anything but grin as their eyes held, and desire quickly sparked between them again. Yet he worried. “I finally saw Da, lass. He was here.” He shook his head. “And though I was happy to see him, I worry that he’s with the warlock. That the warlock might have seen where we are.”
“Assuming he knows every tavern in Scotland,” she countered. “How likely do you think that is? Likely enough to wake everyone in the middle of a freezing night, start traveling and leave your grandfather behind? Will it even be safer out there?”
She made several valid points, but that didn’t stop him from mentally connecting with his cousins, sharing everything that had happened and telling them to remain vigilant. They agreed with Lindsay that it was best to stay put for now until they had more information. As far as he could tell all of them had remained sober and Graham, surprisingly enough, had not taken advantage of a whore but slept alone.
“We should rest,” Lindsay said softly as she set aside her drink, stood and dropped the blanket. When her eyes trailed down his body then she crawled onto the bed, he didn’t hesitate to follow, stopping her while she was still on her hands and knees.
She made a throaty, pleased sound as he spread her legs just enough, didn’t enter her but enjoyed the feel of her firm arse against his cock as he kissed his way up her spine. She had a sound, movement, and expression for every little thing she felt. While at first, he thought maybe she was acting, he soon realized she was doing anything but. She was embracing the real her. A lass, as it turned out, that was free and wild in her lovemaking. That received pleasure as heartily as she gave it.
He loved the way she began squirming in need as he nuzzled the side of her neck. Though tempted to draw it out and make her wait, it became increasingly difficult. She was way too tempting, and he was far too aroused.
So he kept nibbling at the side of her neck as he gripped one hip firmly and eased his way inside of her. His balls tightened as he clenched his jaw against sweet bliss and trembled with restrained need. It took everything he had not to thrust hard and find the release that was already so close.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her breathing ragged and broken. “I want it too.”
He tried, he really did, but when she ground her arse back against him, there was no hope for a slow sensual experience.
All he could do was grip her hips and thrust hard.
Her moans of pleasure only increased along with his grunts as he peered down through half-mast lids, so aroused it was near painful. Sweat glistened on them both as he increased his speed, reveling in the beauty of her arse propped up and her more than evident enjoyment.
He only vaguely saw the glow of her gem as she clenched the blanket and fire raced up his spine. Seconds later, he released a low roar, locked up inside her and let go.
“Hell,” she groaned as her body started shaking and she climaxed.
“Bloody hell,” he added as he breathed heavily and gradually loosened his grip on her hips. He lowered, fell to his side and wrapped his arms around her. Nothing felt this good. Her by his side and in his arms. He wanted this always. He wanted her in his castle as its mistress and her in his arms every night.
Those were the last thoughts he had as he pulled a blanket over them, might have murmured, “I love ye, lass,” then drifted off to sleep.
All he dreamt about was her. When they were bairns, and he caught glimpses of her silver eyes. Then more recently including the first time he held her in his arms in Stirling. How trusting and vulnerable she had been. How she had, somehow, been very much the real her with him though he didn’t know it at the time.
He had watched over her all night that first eve in the run down castle, staring at her without blinking it seemed. Wondering what she would be like when she was no longer under the influence of herbs. What she might be like if she awoke and they had time alone together. Because even back then, he had sensed something just out of reach.
An indefinable connection.
“’Twas never really indefinable, was it, lad?” his father said softly, somewhere off to his right in his dream. “Nay, ye saw a lifeline in her and now yer taking it as is she.” His voice drew closer, more insistent. “She’s followed the gem and moved beyond all the faces she wears, Son.” Then he roared, “So wake up!”
Conall bolted upright, having felt the terror his father had wanted him to feel as he looked around, confused. As far as he could tell, little had changed outside of the dim daylight muted by falling snow where before it had been dark.
“Oh, God, no,” Lindsay gasped as she bolted upright moments later. Her terrified eyes met his. “What happened?” She shook her head as she scrambled out of bed. “Tell me it was all a dream.”
“Aye, ‘twas...I think.” He was right behind her, yanking on his clothes, discombobulated, still caught up in his father’s vague warning. “What did you dream about?”
“I was a child again,” she said absently as she struggled into her dress, trembling. “And there was so much blood.”
“’Twas just a dream then,” he said, trying to calm her with soft words even as he realized she must be ref
erring to her parents.
“It..it..” She kept shaking her head before her eyes met his. “It wasn’t a dream, Conall. It was real.”
“Aye, mayhap, if you say so.” He gripped her shoulders lightly and tilted his head until her eyes finally stayed with his. “Lindsay, I know...” Ashamed he had held this back when he should have told her far sooner, he murmured, “I know what happened to your parents and I know it’s what triggered your gift.”
Her eyes widened then narrowed as she struggled with his admission.
“I’m verra sorry I didnae tell you sooner, but I didnae know where to begin,” he whispered, pained by the look in her eyes. “It happened because of our telepathic connection.”
“That’s why I’ve been able to stay in a bed with you around isn’t it?” she murmured, her eyes wider still as they searched his.
What was she talking about?
He never had a chance to ask because she resumed dressing, yanking on her boots as she narrowed her eyes on the window. “Something’s very wrong.” Anxiety churned in her eyes as they met his. “The blood wasn’t my parent’s but others.” She swallowed. “People I cared about.”
“Aye, then, lass.” He strapped on weapons and tried to reach out to his kin. “Bryce, Graham, Rona?”
None responded.
It was eerily quiet.
“Something’s really wrong, Conall,” she whispered.
“Stay behind me.” He made her meet his eyes as he pressed a blade into her hand. “Do you ken, Lindsay?”
She nodded.
“Aye?” he asked just to be sure. “When we leave this room you need to stay behind me no matter what.” He lowered his brows. “Can you do that?”
“I can,” she assured, gathering herself, her eyes steadier by the moment. “I’ll be okay.”
He eyed her another moment before he nodded. “All right. Follow me.”
Oddly enough, the moment he stepped out the door, he knew his world was about to be turned upside down. He experienced such an ominous feeling that his stomach lurched. When he got to his grandfather’s room, there was no sign of him.
He could not have healed that quickly and left. There was no way. Conall already had his sword at the ready but pulled out his dagger as well as he started down the stairs slowly. The dread he felt only grew stronger. The moment he rounded the corner and caught a glimpse of the tavern below, ice ran through his veins, and he stopped Lindsay.
“What?” she whispered, her voice shaky. “What is it, Conall?”
Numb, unable to tell her, unable to voice it, he gestured that she go back up the stairs.
After all, how could he tell her that she was right?
That there was nothing but blood below.
He tried to steer her up the stairs but stumbled he was in so much shock.
How else could it be considering he had just seen the dead bodies of his grandfather and cousins.
Chapter Nineteen
LINDSAY FELT CONALL’S need to protect her from what he had seen. Even so, the deep pain and sudden fury in his eyes told her all she needed to know. Her dream had manifested. Before he could stop her, she slipped by and raced down the stairs only to slow then stop.
Just like in her dream, she put a hand over her mouth and choked back a sob. Everyone was dead. Slaughtered. So many. All the people they had recently laughed and danced alongside. Those they had mourned and celebrated with.
Bryce.
Graham.
Rona.
And, oh God, Grant.
All dead, their bodies ruined.
“This can't be happening.” She tried to hold back another sob for Conall’s sake, but it was no use. This was too gruesome. Too familiar.
“Come back, lass,” Conall whispered as his hand clamped around her wrist. “We dinnae know if the enemy is still here.”
Lindsay’s eyes fell to her ring. It was still the color of his eyes.
“If he is we need to find and fight him.” She locked her jaw, narrowed her eyes and ignored the tears that slipped free. “I never had the chance to avenge my parent’s death.” Her eyes met his. “But at least what happened ignited my gift. That has to mean something.”
“Aye,” he said softly, both turmoil and strength in his eyes as they held hers. “I’ll be by your side every step of the way, lass.” He clenched his blade, his body trembling with tightly restrained rage, his brogue so thick she could barely understand him. “Just give me a direction. Tell me what ye need of me.”
She was about to respond when the front door opened.
“Adlin!” they both said at once.
“Wake up!” he roared as his blazing light blue eyes found them. “’Tis coming!”
Seconds later, everything snapped shut and went black before she shot up in bed at the same time as Conall. The moment their eyes met, they knew what had happened.
They had been given a glimpse of the future.
Based on the dim pre-dawn light, one she suspected would happen very soon.
“The ring’s gem is glowing the color of your eyes,” she said into Conall’s mind in case anyone was listening. “I think it’s trying to help us.”
“Aye.” His eyes went to the door before returning to hers. “Let’s get dressed. I’ll warn my cousins.”
“No.” Lindsay shook her head, surprised by how strongly she felt. “I think we need to handle this on our own.” She yanked on her dress. “I think this is directly related to the warlock and the fewer people we involve, the better.”
He nodded as they dressed. “Aye, then, lass. What do we do next?”
“That’s a good question.” She frowned. “My guess is what we just saw will happen later this morning based on the lighting and the fresh...well, you know...bodies.”
“Aye.” His eyes flickered from the door to her again. “So we lay in wait?”
“Maybe.” She considered the other times she had made contact with the warlock. First, to defend Graham then tonight, after having sex with Conall. What was the connection? Was there any? In the first scenario, she was coming to someone’s rescue. In the second? It made no sense.
Or did it?
Darach’s words kept coming back to her. Move beyond all the faces you’re willing to wear and follow the gem.
Her eyes went to Conall. She had finally and truly done that with him, hadn’t she? He knew everything now including the violence of her childhood and how she had lost her parents. When they first met at the tree, he didn’t know that part. She never told him. But now he did, and it wasn’t driving him away. Not in the least.
“I had wanted to go with my parents that night, but they wouldn’t let me,” she whispered aloud, finally saying the words for the first time. “So I crawled into their bed and waited.”
Though tempted to sit she remained standing, strong as she ever was. She notched her chin and kept her eyes on his. “That night I witnessed the most horrific thing in my life through one of their eyes, and I still don’t know whose. Maybe both. Maybe I was even there somehow via my gift. It certainly felt like it.”
Lindsay shook her head and continued. “But it doesn’t matter anymore and hasn’t for a very long time.” She stood up a little straighter, gathering strength as she knew all-too-well how to do. “Soon after, I was put into foster care and never slept another night through in a bed...not until now...until you.”
Conall stepped closer but never said a word. His eyes were compassionate as he waited for her to say what she needed to say.
“I learned what it felt like to be vulnerable and helpless that night in my parent’s bed,” she said through clenched teeth. “So I began sleeping on the floor so I would never sleep so soundly that something like that could ever happen again. So I wouldn’t be pulled from my body and see something I couldn't stop. To be held back from protecting someone I love.” She shook her head. “For all the strength I thought I found I guess in some aspects I still lived in fear.”
“Why are you telling me
all this, lass?” he said softly as he tilted her chin and met her eyes. “Why now?”
“Because I don't sleep on the floor when I’m with you,” she said softly. “Because all the fear is finally gone.”
This was it.
The moment of truth in more ways than one.
She could feel it and say it, but only the ring would know for sure if she really meant it.
“Because I love you, Conall,” she whispered. “I’m in love with you and don’t want any secrets between us. I want you to see the real me. All of me. And nobody else.”
No sooner did she say the words than the ring flared brighter and a dark shadow fled the room. Though it was clear Conall was caught by her words it was also evident that he had seen the same thing.
“Come, lass.” He pulled her after him and spoke within her mind. “Dinnae hesitate to enchant, aye? Because I’ll be right there beside you using my magic as well.”
Despite the circumstances, she felt a rush of thanks to be here with him.
To have come so far.
Whatever had just happened between them, the warlock felt threatened and was moving fast. But not fast enough as she stopped, released Conall’s hand and leaned back against the wall in the hallway. Seductive, determined, she focused on feeling saddened by the loss of the warlock.
She longed for him to come back upstairs...longed for him to be with her.
Conall fell back into the shadows as she kept focusing on the warlock.
It didn’t take long before his reluctant, but steady feet sounded on the stairwell. When he reached the top and looked her way, she batted her lashes and made a come-hither motion with her finger.
Like a moth to a flame, he drifted her way, his expression warring between furious and bewitched as he fought her hold over him. What he likely already figured out though, was that it was far too late for that.
Especially when Conall chanted and began manipulating the air seconds before the warlock reached out to her. She smiled softly and focused everything she had on enchanting him as Conall closed the distance.
Regrettably, the warlock was strong and managed to keep him back.
The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 51