A Scot's Devotion (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era, #2)

by Purington, Sky

  “Nay.”

  “Then why ask that?” She no sooner got the question out before she understood. “Ah, you were flirting.”

  “I suppose I was,” he conceded, recalling how bonny Maeve had appeared. Her light brown hair had been illuminated by the setting sun, her soulful eyes bashful when she realized she had been caught in the act.

  “So what did she say when you told her she couldn’t fly?” Chloe asked.

  He managed a small smile. “Once she found her voice, she explained that she wasn’t trying to fly like a bird but a dragon.” His smile faded as he thought about it. As he recalled the look in her eyes. “Funny, until now, I hadnae given that much thought.”

  “What?”

  “The tranquility and excitement in her eyes when she spoke of dragons.” He took a longer swig this time, realizing why that may have been. Amazed he hadn’t put two and two together sooner. “I knew she had traveled to MacLeod Castle first, but she hadn’t been there long. A day or two at most.” He shook his head in denial, refusing to believe it. “Certainly not long enough to have developed feelings for Cray.”

  Yet as he reflected, he knew firsthand it was possible. After all, he himself had been smitten the moment he laid eyes on her. Besotted actually.

  “I hear love is blind,” Chloe said softly, her gaze no longer on his face, but on the candle flame.

  Arch-wizard or not, until this moment, it had never occurred to him that love had, indeed, blinded him. That the truth might have been right there in front of his eyes from the moment he met her. All he saw was the future he wanted to have with her. The memories they would create together.

  Despite his sudden clarity and the myriad of emotions it invoked, his attention was caught by the sadness in Chloe’s eyes. A heartache he recognized all too well.

  “Who was he?” he said softly, curious despite himself.

  Her startled gaze flickered to him, then returned to the flame. “No one important. Not like Maeve.”

  Though he knew better than to continue because it might draw them closer, he couldn’t help himself. He had to know.

  “He was important enough,” he said. “Tell me, Chloe...tell me about who hurt you.”

  “His name doesn’t matter anymore,” she said on a sigh and took a sip of whisky. “All that matters is that he left me for another woman.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Now, I'm more than a little gun shy.”

  That caught him off guard in more ways than one. What were the odds of them having such similar experiences? More than that, why would any man in his right mind want another when he had her? While tempted to say as much, he bit his tongue.

  He nearly said they should get some rest but realized he wasn’t tired. Rather for the first time in a long time, especially with a lass, he wanted to keep talking. So he urged her to tell him more about herself. Not about the men from her past but who she really was. What she wanted from life. Things beyond the thoughts he caught.

  “Honestly, I’m sort of at a crossroads.” The shadows lingering on her face vanished, and her gaze returned to him. “I’ve been a freelance journalist most of my adult life, but lately, I’ve just felt, I dunno, bored, I guess.” She narrowed her eyes, giving it some thought. “You know, now that I think about it, I started losing my zest for it right around the time I met Julie and the girls in the online Broun forum.”

  An odd sensation swept over him. Half his magic, half hers if he didn’t know better. His heart leapt a little without him truly understanding why. He ignored the sudden surge of hope he felt.

  “What do you wish to do with your life now?” he asked, more curious than he let on. He couldn’t help a small smile. “Because ‘tis clear you have a verra curious nature which suited your occupation, aye?”

  “It did.” She chuckled, her eyes sparkling in that charming way they did. “I’m not sure it’ll ever go away, either.”

  “I would hope not,” he said, again speaking before thinking.

  In all honesty, he liked it. He had found speaking with her as they rode earlier entertaining. He enjoyed her inquisitive mind. How she found things intriguing that he rarely gave notice. In a strange way, she allowed him to see through her eyes, which was surprisingly freeing. It made him realize that perhaps his world had grown smaller in the wake of Maeve's death. That mayhap on some level he wasn’t quite ready to admit to, he had stopped living.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Chloe blushed at his compliment about her curiosity. “That’s not usually the response I get.” She took another sip of whisky, her gaze on the flame again. “As to what I want to do with my life now? I still haven’t figured that out other than I want to continue writing. I want to...” she seemed to think about it, “write something truly meaningful. Not just the latest scoop.”

  He tried not to admire how the candlelight made the strawberry tones in her hair shimmer. How it made them jump and dance around, almost giving her hair a life of its own. “What do you consider meaningful?”

  “Memoires of some sort, I think,” she whispered, clearly startled that she’d said that. Her eyes rose to his, their sparkle drawing him in. Sudden surprise lit her face. “I want to keep something alive with words.” She cocked her head in contemplation. “I want to make sure nobody forgets.”

  “Forgets what?” He leaned forward a little, wondering what she meant, feeling like he might know but couldn’t quite grasp it. Like a firefly flittering about, staying just beyond his reach. “What do you want to keep alive with words?”

  Though it might have been his imagination, he swore the gem in her ring flashed with color, and the sparkle in her eyes flared brighter.

  “I don’t quite know,” she murmured.

  She blinked several times as though struggling to see clearer.

  Suddenly her eyes snapped to his, her voice a little off. “But you will, wizard. You will know precisely what I should write when the time comes. What needs to be remembered.” Her tone grew grave. “First, though, you will give up who you are.” This time, there was no missing the flare of her sparkling eyes. “You will forfeit everything, your very soul, or all you love will be lost...most of all, who you love the most.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I SAID WHAT?” She chuckled nervously and sipped her whisky, having no recollection of what she'd apparently just said. He would know what she should write when the time came? He would give up everything? His very soul? Or all would be lost? Even the one he loved most?

  How positively ominous.

  Yet one thing snagged her attention above all else.

  “Who do you love the most?” She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “Never mind. Pretty sure I already know.”

  Thankfully, he didn’t answer, because it would have been Maeve and that stupid heart-sinking sensation would return. Honestly, she’d known the guy less than forty-eight hours, so feeling this strongly was just sad. A little desperate, really. He didn’t appear that put off, though. If anything, he looked worried.

  “What just happened to you, Chloe?” His brogue thickened with his heightened emotions. He wasn't concerned about him but her. “You werenae yourself.”

  A frown settled on his face, where she much preferred him smiling. The man had some seriously sexy dimples. That might be the last thing she should be thinking about right now, but she couldn’t help herself. Then again, she wasn’t as rattled as he was by what had just happened. Which made her wonder.

  Should she be? Her words truly had been unsettling.

  “I wasn't myself, was I?” She narrowed her eyes, considering what it had felt like. While she didn’t recall saying the words, she’d definitely been in touch with her emotions. “Though it sounded otherwise, I don't think what I said is set in stone.” She met his eyes. “Whatever just came over me was trying to help. Make us aware of what could possibly happen, but not necessarily. It had been a courtesy warning of sorts. Something subject to change.” She nodded once. “I’m sure of it.”

&nb
sp; “Was it the same voice who dressed you at Edinburgh Castle then?” He searched her eyes, seeking answers she just didn’t have. “Could it have been a Celtic goddess?”

  “I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “Maybe.” She offered an apologetic look. “Bear with me. I’m brand new to this magic thing, never mind gods.”

  “Of course,” he murmured. Unrest lingered in his eyes as his gaze flickered from her ring to the candle flame.

  She could have sworn she’d seen her ring spark the color of Aidan's eyes, but now she wasn’t so sure. Curious, she asked him if he saw it too, but he readily denied it. A bit too quickly, in her opinion. Which made her wonder. Not enough, however, to go anywhere near talking about possible love existing between them. Because that's what it would mean.

  Love.

  Just thinking about it scared her to no end. She’d loved before and look where that got her. Heartbroken. A complete mess. She didn’t want to go through that again any more than he obviously did. So she couldn’t help but wonder how this would work. How they’d leap the seemingly insurmountable hurdles of their past to find any kind of future.

  “When your magic first ignites, ‘tis just a series of odd sensations,” he said softly, undoubtedly drawing on his own experience. Blissfully pulling her from her thoughts. “Learn where they derive from, what might have ignited them, and you will find control.”

  She nodded and urged him to go on, glad he was off her ominous words and onto other things.

  “What just happened was likely your magic first sparking, making you a conduit to someone wanting to help you,” he explained. “In Julie's case, her ancestors. In yours, perhaps this goddess who reached out to you at Edinburgh Castle.” He looked at her with reassurance. “Once you are more familiar and in control of your magic, you willnae forget it but be wholly present.” He pointed to the corner of his eye. “I suspect the source of your power comes from your eyes,” the corner of his mouth curled up, “and your endless curiosity.”

  She perked her brows, surprised by that. “You mean to say something that’s gotten me into trouble over the years and usually drives people crazy is part of my magic?” She chuckled. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Dinnae,” he replied. “’Tis the part of you that finds answers. That moves your soul forward on its life journey.” She sensed he wanted to touch the corner of her eye this time but clenched his fist to stop himself. “Curiosity is the most natural human inclination and will only become enhanced, I imagine, as your inner witch surfaces.”

  “Inner witch,” she mouthed, still trying to wrap her mind around that. It was no longer a possibility but a truth. She felt it deep down in a place that wouldn’t allow her to question it. “What about my eyes, though? What have they got to do with this?”

  “You would not be the first Broun witch to display her power through her eyes.” He shrugged. “For you, ‘tis verra clearly the perfect link.” This time he did touch the corner of her eye and lingered there, his gaze with hers in a way a man’s never had been before. Again his brogue thickened with emotion. “Ye carry such a large part of your curious soul right here in yer bright bonny eyes that ‘tis a wonder anyone can look away from them.”

  Breathing became impossible as his gaze lingered on her, the rich depths of his own glorious gaze reeling her ever closer. She had never felt anything quite like this. Not just incredible attraction, but what she realized was magic.

  Power.

  Not just his but hers slowly but surely coming to life. Swelling to the surface of a reality beyond her wildest imagination. Daunting in its intensity. Alarming in its otherworldly, unnatural ability to drive its way into her mind, merging with what she knew of herself.

  Making her its own.

  “Aidan?” she managed on a whisper, curious but frightened, needing more answers, needing to understand. “What’s going on?”

  While she thought for certain he would pull his hand away, he didn’t. Instead, he cupped her cheek and comforted her because God knows she needed it. She felt like she was morphing into something else. Being consumed by something undefinable and alien.

  “’Tis happening verra fast for ye,” he murmured, seemingly seeing straight into her soul. “’Tis all right, lass. I am here. Ye are nae alone.”

  “It’s overwhelming.” She began shaking. “Like it's taking over.” She yawned despite her fear. “And making me so tired.”

  “’Tis taking you over, but not in a way you will lose yourself,” he replied. “’Tis best you rest your eyes now and sleep. Let come what may.”

  “How can you say that considering what happened earlier today when you nearly fell to your death?” She started to panic, well aware mystical things were capable of taking over people. “Considering the dreams I’ve been having?”

  “Because I sense what’s happening to you, lass.” His tone was both compassionate and firm. “My magic senses yours,” he revealed. “’Tis strengthened by yours.” He snuffed out the candle, thrusting them into darkness. “’Tis time to rest now, Chloe. Not fear.”

  She was both surprised and relieved when he pulled her close, covered them with a blanket, and wrapped his arms around her. Again, it was more than she expected, but so welcome in the safety it offered that she blinked back tears.

  “Sleep, lass,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “And let the magic come as it will.”

  “What does that mean?” She swallowed hard, clueless what to expect. “Will it hurt?”

  “Nay, ‘twill not hurt.” He hesitated a moment before continuing. “And I will be there every step of the way.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because my magic says so.”

  Something about his confident tone and the soothing sensation of being in his arms eased her. Lent peace. She breathed deeply and snuggled closer as her muscles one by one unlocked and warmth washed over her. Warmth like sunlight and good friends. Like love and laughter and all the moments that made life worth living. Darkness enveloped her in a new kind of peace before everything fell away, and Aidan was gone.

  But he wasn’t.

  Her ex stood right in front of her, his gaze deadpan.

  She was reliving a memory.

  “I’ve loved her all along,” he said. “Maybe even before you.”

  “Then why were you with me?” She bit back a sob. “Why put me through this?”

  Pity lit his eyes though he had no trouble saying exactly how he felt. “Because I felt bad.” He shrugged, packing up his belongings. “I’m not sure if you realize it, Chloe, but you’re a lost cause. You want people to care about you, but all you do in the end is drive them away.” He shook his head. “Honestly, I’m surprised you even care that I’m going.”

  “Of course I care.” She refused to cry. She refused to beg him to stay when she had done nothing wrong. “Why would you say that? Where is this coming from?”

  “You’re never here, Chloe!” He shouldered his duffel bag and finally looked at her. “You haven’t been, and I doubt ever will be. All you care about is the next big story and getting ahead.” He shook his head again. “Not the real things that matter. The people in your life.”

  He didn't wait for a response but tossed his key on the table and strode out.

  Just like that, he was gone.

  She was alone.

  So alone, it made her double over and sink to her knees in pain. From foster home to foster home to men who never stayed. It was all the same, over and over. When had she started thinking this time might be different? That maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who could love her? Would the search never end? Because that's what it felt like sometimes.

  A search for the right one so she wouldn't be alone anymore.

  “Ye’re not alone, lass,” came a murmur from somewhere in her dream. “Never alone.”

  Darkness fell again, like a curtain over her subconscious.

  She fell into a lonely abyss she knew all too well until warm lips pressed against
hers, and she wasn't alone anymore. She'd found a life raft in all the emptiness only to discover herself helplessly adrift. Lost in pleasure when those warm lips became exploratory. When her mouth opened beneath his.

  Aidan.

  These were his lips on hers.

  His tongue seeking entrance.

  Her letting him in.

  She was no longer adrift but drowning in pure sensation. Untouchable desire.

  She'd never been kissed like this before. Taken. Consumed in a way that wasn’t just physical but emotional. Everything sparked to life within the darkness. She saw him as bright light in her mind. Felt him as warmth against her skin, her very soul.

  Kissing him, being in his arms like this, almost felt surreal. Too good to be true.

  Was this really happening?

  Would it continue?

  “No,” a dark, sinister voice growled in her mind, tearing away everything she felt. The bliss she had been in. Threatening her very sanity. “Not if I have any say!”

  Chapter Twelve

  WHEN CHLOE RELEASED a blood-curdling scream, his heart about stopped. He and Cray raced for the tent, but he beat his cousin, only to find Chloe sitting up, wide-eyed and terrified.

  Nobody was there. No evil Disinherited warrior monk to be found.

  “’Twas just a nightmare, lass.” He sat, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and shot Cray a look. All was well. His cousin should be about his business. Meanwhile, he stroked her hair, well aware it comforted her. “All is well, Chloe. You are safe. ‘Twas but a dream.”

  “Something dark’s coming for you, Aidan.” Her trembling increased, and she held onto him. “Then me. In that order. I know it like I know the sun’s gonna rise tomorrow.”

  “And we’ll be ready for it when it comes.” He held her tighter, fairly certain her magic flourished when she knew she was safe. Protected. Not abandoned. “You are not facing this alone, Chloe. I am right here with you. As is Cray and verra soon, Julie and Tiernan.”

  The more firmly he held her and kept her secure, the more her trembling subsided, and her fear ebbed. Concerned but doing his best not to show it, he wondered if he should have pulled away last night after kissing her. If doing such left her vulnerable to whatever darkness swooped in.