A Scot's Retribution (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era Book 5)

by Sky Purington

“Right,” she murmured, resting back against him, knowing the drill by now. “Until we find our truth.”

  In all actuality, though eager, she felt more content than usual to let things come as they would at this point.

  “’Tis your inner dragon making you feel that way too,” he murmured in her ear, sending shivers of awareness through her. “When not provoked, dragons are by their verra nature, creatures at ease in their own environment.”

  “Does that mean you’re my own environment then?” she asked, closing her eyes.

  “Aye, lass.” He nuzzled her neck. “As you are mine.”

  In full agreement, she smiled and dozed, at last, for a while, not plagued by shifts back to ancient Ireland but dreams of their time spent together in this life. Their many memories. How they laughed and shared stories from their real lives.

  “I’ll travel to the future and find you, lass,” Marek had vowed. “For how can I protect you with hundreds and hundreds of years betwixt us?”

  That had been the last dream they shared.

  That hadn’t been the very last thing said, though, had it?

  In fact, she jolted awake when she remembered exactly what that had been.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “YOU TOLD ME to run in our very last dream,” Chara gasped, jolting in his arms. They had just stopped where they would make camp for the night. She trembled as she met his eyes over her shoulder. “You told me to stay away from you, no matter what.”

  “Just like I warned you to when I dreamt of you before you traveled back,” he murmured. “After you vanished from the dream when we first met.”

  “It all has to do with what you did at the end of our first life.” Her pained gaze stayed on his face. “You were terrified you were going to hurt me, Marek. I’m sure of it.”

  “I still am.” Disgruntled, he swung down and pulled her after him. “Despite what we’ve been told, every second of every hour since we’ve come together here, I fear I’ll hurt you, Chara. That the darkness that possessed me before will do so again.”

  “Not if you keep following your path.” Destiny’s knowing eyes went to Chara’s hand with relief. “For you are on the right path.”

  “Oh, wow,” Chara whispered, looking at the gem in her ring. “Is it me, or is it brighter than before?”

  “It is.” Marek took her hand and pressed a kiss next to it. His eyes never left hers. “And ‘twill be brighter still, lass.”

  “I hope so,” she murmured.

  “’Twill be,” he promised when in truth, he had no way of knowing that. Only hope. Only ever hope when it came to her.

  Interrupting the moment, Phelan jumped up on Chara, clearly smiling if one knew how to see such in a wolf pup.

  Chara chuckled and picked her up. “Well, what brings you my way?”

  “I’d imagine a desire to cheer you up.” Ciara smiled at them. “And probably a summons from the king if I were to guess.”

  Almost as soon as she said it, a soldier relayed that King David would like them to dine with him that eve. A supper, as they discovered a short time later, that turned out to be the first real stretch of normalcy they’d had since all this began. For a blissful few hours, there were no flashbacks or trances. Rather they smiled and laughed, Chara more relaxed than he’d seen her in a while.

  Though he liked to think it was all her dragon surfacing, deep down, he sensed there was more to it. Something that, despite him doing his best to appear otherwise, worried him. Almost as if, on a level she didn’t even realize, she’d accepted something he didn’t much like. In fact, whatever it was, had to do with her last trip back to Ireland.

  For she had undoubtedly chosen to rise above their own love for Ethyn and Ciara’s.

  Nonetheless, he did his best to set aside his concerns and simply enjoy her company. Hell, if she wasn’t well worth enjoying, too, as she smiled at King David, then laughed, the sound music to his ears. He realized how similar it had sounded in his mind when she was still fully unicorn. How pure and true it had rung.

  As it turned out, Destiny had ensured a sound barrier around everyone for the eve. In addition, some magical privacy from David's men so the wee king could simply have some fun. Twinkling lights danced around the fire and over their heads compliments of Chloe’s Fae magic. Spruces danced and swayed in the wind, creating forest-like walls around them thanks to Ciara’s druid magic. Even pipes played compliments of everyone’s magic.

  Grant sparked in and out, and Adlin stood in such a way it appeared he leaned against a tree. Something he pointed out to Grant he did quite convincingly no matter how ethereal he may be.

  “’Tis a good eve, aye, brother?” Cray said, joining him. “Truly verra good in its own way.”

  “Aye.” Marek's gaze never left Chara. Though she’d decided to wear a simple brown woolen dress, determined to stay ‘in period’ as she said, he’d never seen her look more lovely. Her hair was pulled back, and her eyes sparkled more golden than usual as she continued laughing with the king.

  “Chara’s verra good with children.” Cray eyed his brother. “Does she want them? Surely ye’ve talked about it over the years.”

  “’Tis a topic we did our best to steer clear of for obvious reasons,” Marek said softly because, in truth, they never knew with certainty if they would ever really be together. “But aye, I think she wants them every bit as much as me.”

  He had long imagined finally seeking her out in the future and bringing her home to MacLeod Castle. To her castle. Her people. For everything that was his was hers. She had been his wife in his mind for so long, he pictured no one else there. Nobody else filling his home with children or growing old with him.

  “They know now, aye?” he murmured, glancing at his brother. “I sense ma and da, and our grandparents hovering at the edge of my mind, giving me space, but they’ve followed everything, right? And ye’ve stayed in touch?”

  “Aye, they are with ye, brother.” Cray clasped his shoulder. “Now that everything’s unfolding, like me, they’ve had access to it all. Yer many dreams and memories of Chara. How verra much she means to ye. How she loves ye as deeply as ye love her.” His gaze remained on Marek, his tone never more serious. “They verra much look forward to welcoming her home when this is all over. She is kin, Marek. To the bone, and in our hearts, kin to all MacLeods, human and dragon alike.”

  Marek nodded, too emotional to speak, grateful that everyone intended to welcome her with open arms. She deserved no less.

  “Might we dance?” Chara said gaily, holding her hand out to King David. She smiled at her friends. “Might all of us dance?”

  Marek couldn’t help a small smile when David and the other lasses joined her, followed by Phelan, who jumped around them, happy as could be. In all honesty, their journey would be coming to an end soon, so this was likely the last night of its kind. A time when everyone could find some semblance of happiness despite David being exiled.

  “Come, mate.” Madison swirled to a stop in front of Cray. With one hand on her belly, she held out her other hand. “Come dance with our Ceann and me.”

  “Aye, my lass.” Cray took her hand and looked at Marek. “Come join us, brother.”

  “Nay, you two go on.” He smiled and raised his whisky in a toast. “Be merry, aye?”

  Cray’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer before he squeezed Marek’s shoulder in support then joined Madison.

  “Do you not want to enjoy your woman?” Leviathan grunted, plunking down beside him, clearly not in the best of moods. He gestured at everyone dancing. “You could take her again right here. I would not be opposed.”

  “Och.” Marek shook his head and eyed the Viking, sometimes forgetting how different his culture. How what he’d caught Chara and Marek doing earlier against the tree was perfectly normal and appreciated amongst Ancients. But this wasn’t about that, and he knew it. “She’s got ye that turned around, aye? That ye think such is acceptable in this crowd and with a bairn present no
less?”

  “Who?” Leviathan grunted, frowning at anyone who dared look his way. “Nobody has me turned around. I am facing forward.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Where is Destiny anyway?”

  “How would I know?” Leviathan took a hearty swig from a horn of ale before he grumbled under his breath that the goddess was steering clear of Chara so she might have a good time.

  “Ah.” Marek drank his whisky and let silence settle before he addressed his newfound friend again, mainly because he was curious. “Do ye trust the goddess or not? When ye first arrived, ye were, in part, here to help her, yet now I dinnae quite know where ye stand.” He narrowed his eyes. “To be more exact, I get the sense even ye dinnae know where ye stand.”

  When Leviathan didn’t respond at first but took another long swig of ale, he assumed the Viking would hold his tongue but ended up surprising him. Mayhap because he was in his cups or mayhap because he merely wished to share his thoughts with another.

  “All I knew when I came here was that all hope was not lost for Destiny.” Though Leviathan’s gaze remained on the fire, he was clearly someplace else. “I thought when I received that message, she would simply prove to be a woman in distress, but she’s far more than that. She’s...more all the way around.”

  “Is she yer mate, then, friend?” Marek asked, coming to the only conclusion he could based on the passion in the Viking’s voice.

  “Mate?” Leviathan said as though the word tasted wrong on his tongue. “I don't take mates, Scot. Not many mates and especially not just one. Women and I service each other, then they move on.”

  He’d heard how flexible the notion of fated mates was in Leviathan’s time. But then, in any time, dragons weren’t necessarily monogamous creatures. Many found one true mate where others preferred several.

  “So why are ye so drawn to the goddess?” Marek saw it for the simplicity it might be, speaking as dragons spoke to each other. “Or is it merely ye’ve a need to sink yer cock into something?”

  “Without doubt, I do.” Leviathan scowled. “And there’s not a wench to be found.”

  Before Marek had a chance to respond, the Viking downed his ale and left without nary a goodbye. But then he tended to be that way. Blunt then off, more in his own head than most dragons.

  “Want to dance?” Chara asked, swirling to a stop in front of him. Her smile in itself blew away the dark clouds that seemed to trail after Leviathan. “If I remember correctly, you’re not half bad at it.”

  “Och, then you dinnae remember so well, lass.” Even so, he set aside his drink and joined her, if for no other reason than to have her in his arms again. “’Twas always you that made me a better dancer.”

  “Liar.” She dropped a kiss on his cheek and pulled him into a dance.

  Whether or not the timing was appropriate with everything going on, it was probably the best time he’d enjoyed with his kin in ages. Everyone, including the king, was truly happy as they danced a merry jig around the fire and enjoyed one another’s company. Eventually, couples broke off to dance more slowly, but Marek and Chara remained with wee David.

  “Ye arenae nearly as scary as I thought ye were,” David said to Marek, sitting between them, enjoying the fire and good food. He grinned at Chara, clearly smitten. “But then, how could ye be?” He sat up a little straighter, having come far indeed. Moreover, bold. “If ye ever find yerself without yer dragon, I would gladly take ye as my mistress, Chara.”

  Not ‘unicorn dragon’ anymore but Chara.

  She smiled and nodded kindly, sounding truly flattered. “Thank you, King David.” Her eyes went from Marek to David. “But as I’m sure you understand, my heart will only ever belong to my mate.”

  “Aye, and ‘tis how it should be.” David looked at Marek with near-worship while somehow maintaining the dignity of a king. “Ye are verra lucky, dragon laird.”

  “I know.” He met Chara’s eyes. “I’ve always known.”

  After that, they chatted about random things before it was time for the king to rest, and everyone said goodnight.

  “I never did get the kind of dance I was looking for.” Chara grabbed Marek's hand before he went too far and met his eyes. “Like before? Just one last time?”

  Though confused by why she phrased it quite like that, he didn’t much care when her dragon eyes flared. He pulled her close, willing to do whatever she asked of him.

  “You remember, right?” She gazed into his eyes. “The last time we danced?”

  “Aye.” How could he forget? “’Twas also the last time I saw you in a dream.” Just as he had in the dream, he wrapped an arm around her waist and cupped the back of her neck. “And the way we danced...”

  “I know,” she whispered when he broke off, emotional as he remembered it. She trailed her fingers along his jaw. “It was unlike any time before.”

  “It was,” he murmured, remembering how final it had felt. As though she might be gone from his arms a moment later. “It was familiar, too, aye?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, clearly feeling what he felt, sensing something in it.

  Something that moments later revealed yet another piece of their puzzle.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ONE MOMENT SHE and Marek danced in Scotland, then in a dream, then seconds later, in ancient Ireland. They had transitioned seamlessly back to a moment they’d shared in their first life.

  This time they relived it from within their former selves.

  The forest was vibrant and alive, but she felt like she was dying inside as she looked into his eyes. As she thought and spoke with her incarnate’s voice as they danced closely. Slowly. With a passion, she would never forget.

  “Ye should see how they love.” Even now, she felt the emotion of having watched Ethyn and Ciara together. “’Tis not any less worthy than our love. ‘Tis not any less deserving of flourishing.”

  “Nay.” He looked at her curiously. “Why do ye say such?”

  “Because ‘tis worth saying,” she said softly.

  He narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing more to it. “Ye lie to me.” When she averted her gaze, he tilted her chin until she looked at him again. “Why would ye lie to me now when ye’ve never done such? Not once since I found ye by our rock as a wee unicorn.”

  “I am not—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips, pain clear in his gaze. “Ye are, and I need to know why.”

  She closed her eyes, just wanting a moment more of normalcy. Just a moment more of how things were between them. The untouchable sensation of being in his arms.

  “Tell me.” He removed his finger and cupped her cheek. “Just tell me, my love.”

  Chara tried, she really did, but just could not.

  Would not.

  As smoothly as it came, the shift back in time vanished, and she and Marek were standing by the fire in Scotland again.

  “I was going to take matters into my own hands.” She met his eyes, realizing exactly what her incarnate had intended to do. “Anything to keep Ciara safe. The love she shared with Ethyn safe.” She touched his chest and swallowed hard. “And you safe. Always you.”

  “They didnae want me though,” he began only to trail off, understanding. “Even so, I was an obstacle. Something for the Brotherhood to get around to get to you.”

  “Yes.” Destiny’s voice seemed to echo all around them before she appeared out of the night. She sat on a log and stared at the fire as if waiting for them to go on.

  To say what she could not.

  To understand what was staring them right in the face.

  “I knew Chara intended to sacrifice herself to keep everyone safe, aye?” Marek said softly, visions of that life flashing in his mind’s eye. How he went deep into the woodland searching out a goddess who might help. Who might be willing to betray the Brotherhood. He urged Chara to sit beside him and looked at Destiny. “But then I think you hoped I would seek you out. Mayhap even nurtured it.” He narrowed his eyes. “To wh
at real end, though?”

  “The end you see in front of you, Scot,” Leviathan said, appearing out of the night as well, having clearly been stalking the goddess. He sat across from Destiny. As usual, his steady gaze never left her, as if she were an enigma he had yet to figure out. “You sought out darkness to defeat darkness, Marek. And she, it seems, was waiting for you. Willing you to her every step of the way.”

  “Hoping he would come,” Destiny corrected. “For his will was his own.”

  “Then what happened?” Chara tried to keep her hurt reined in and focus on the facts when she looked at Destiny. “Why did you...” She cleared her throat as emotions bubbled up. “Why did you let them have Marek in the end? Why didn’t you protect him from turning dark somehow?”

  “I...” Destiny squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head before opening them again, her gaze pleading that Chara understand. “You need to remember first before—”

  “No!” Chara shot to her feet, suddenly furious. “No more, I need to remember first, Destiny.” She bit back tears because now wasn’t the time for them but hell, this hurt. “Outside of Marek, you’re my best friend, and you won’t tell me what it’ll take to save everyone I care about.” She pleaded with her friend one last time. “Just tell me what happened. Please. I’m begging you.”

  “I,” Destiny whispered, clearly struggling. Very ungodlike tears welled in her eyes before she braced her elbows on her knees and held her head, torn.

  But as it happened, not torn enough.

  “I want to,” Destiny murmured. “I really do...”

  Though tempted to scream, rant and rave at her friend that no, she obviously did not want to, she shook her head and left. There was no point in staying because the woman who had once been her guardian, almost a mother to her, then one of her closest friends, was nowhere near any of those things now. Not anymore.

  And quite honestly, it hurt like a sonofabitch.

  Marek followed her but remained silent as she made her way back to their tent. Not surprisingly, considering Chloe was likely trying to make this night romantic for them, little Fae lights twinkled inside their tent. Not bright. More like fireflies.