He closed his eyes, trying not to think about what it had felt like closing his lips over hers.
He hadn’t meant to, but when he witnessed the dream and felt her pain, he couldn’t stop. He needed to draw her out of it. Away from the memory. His fury at the man made him want to reach back in time and run him through with a blade.
How could anyone hurt her like that? Leave her like that?
When she’d fallen to her knees, feeling the same grief he had felt when Maeve declared her love for Cray, he had to go to her. Pull her away from that awful place. That heartbreaking memory. Not jarringly but delicately.
So instead of shaking her awake, he kissed her.
Then he continued kissing her.
He’d meant it to be brief, just long enough to tear her from the memory, but when he felt her lips beneath his and how she responded, he lost himself. He wanted to sample more. Go deeper. Truly feel.
He had, too.
Right down to a part of his soul he thought dormant, mayhap even dead.
But it wasn’t.
When he kissed her to protect her, he made himself vulnerable. Open. Receptive. Her kiss dragged him from an abyss he hadn’t realized was so deep and dark. So incredibly lonely. After a time, he had pulled away, probably should have sooner, but now he wondered.
Had he left her vulnerable to whatever darkness haunted them? The Disinherited?
Eventually, her trembling subsided, and she settled against him, as unwilling to pull away as he was to let her go. He should, though. Straight away. He needed to stay true to Maeve.
Yet his inner voice whispered in denial. Argued. Countered.
Where was his beloved now? Did she seek him from the afterlife? Or did she seek Cray, waiting for him and only him in the great beyond? Who did she truly love and long for? Need most by her side?
“We should go, lass,” he finally said to Chloe. “Laird Bruce is readying to leave. His scouts report we will join up with Donald, Earl of Mar, later today.”
“That’s the new regent, right?”
“Aye, not officially yet, but he will be,” he replied. “Are you all right now?”
“Yeah,” she murmured. “I’m okay.”
He pulled back so he could see her eyes, her truth, only to discover silent tears had fallen. Touched that they were for his safety when it came to this unknown evil, he wiped them away and searched for the right words to bring her comfort. To give her a sense of strength and security. The only way to truly do that, though, was to assure her she would soon possess the power to fight this darkness.
Which meant he had to reveal what he’d witnessed.
“Seeing your ex and reliving that memory was part of your process, Chloe,” he said gently. “Part of your magic finding its way to where it needs to be so that you might embrace it.”
Her eyes widened when she realized what Aidan saying that meant. “You were there then.”
When she swallowed hard, pulled away, and looked elsewhere, he found it jarring. As though minus her warmth, the sun had vanished and cast him into the shadows.
“You saw...” she whispered.
“Aye, and I felt it,” he said softly, only able to give her the truth, wanting her eyes turned his way again. Needing her gaze on him. “’Tis nothing to be ashamed of, lass. ‘Tis nothing—”
“I need to change,” she said, her tone not exactly sharp but close enough. “Please give me some privacy. I’ll join you guys soon.”
However much he understood her response, he was surprised by how her pulling away thrust him back into a void. One made not of black or white but lifeless gray. A lonely world he had grown all too used to.
That's all right, he reminded himself. Because I love Maeve.
He must remember that. He would see her again someday in the afterlife, and all would be as it should. She was the only one he would ever love. Nobody else. Especially not a lass he barely knew.
Convinced he had things straight again, he let Chloe be.
In the meantime, Cray had remained just outside the tent with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression foretold a foul mood, indeed, and his words drove that home. Something Aidan had no use for. Not from Cray. Not right now. In fact, he grew so frustrated so quickly he did something completely out of character.
When Cray uttered, “Ye’re a bloody fool,” Aidan flat out punched him.
Stunned, Cray staggered back but didn’t fall. Instead, he recognized the challenge for what it was. Eyes narrowed, he wiped blood from his mouth, grinned like a madman and charged Aidan. Though there was little distance between them being hit by a MacLeod dragon was like slamming into a mountain.
The two crashed to the ground and began rolling, battling each other for all they were worth. Cray might be dragon, but before all this began, Aidan’s skills as a warrior were untouchable. Yet irritatingly enough, as it had been on Tiernan and Julie’s adventure, his battle skills were slipping. He felt every punch Cray got past him.
“Enough,” came an all-too-familiar roar almost at the same time as Chloe cried, “Stop! Please!”
Having scrambled into a change of clothing in record time, she was in disarray, her dress crooked, and her hair askew.
Though he and Cray had a good grip on each other’s throats, when Tiernan roared into their minds that they better start behaving, they listened. At least Cray did. Aidan, as it turned out, had to be dragged off his dragon brethren by his best friend.
“Bloody hell, Cousin.” Tiernan gripped Aidan’s shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Enough already!”
He ground his teeth, out for blood. “He’s a—”
“Friend,” Chloe cut in. “And he’s family, Aidan. So please stop this. All he did was—”
“Take her from me,” Aidan ground out, so far back into his dismal mental abyss he couldn’t see straight. He turned cold eyes Chloe’s way, angry that she would defend Cray when she knew what he’d done. The heartache he had caused. “All he did was take away everything that mattered to me.”
“’Twas the other way around, Hamilton.” Cray swung onto his horse, his dragon eyes as fiery as ever. He dusted pine needles off his tunic. “Ye took Maeve from me!”
He rode off in Robert’s general direction without a backward glance.
“Wow,” Julie muttered, embracing Chloe, who appeared nearly as angry as Aidan and Cray. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”
“I’m glad.” Chloe shook her head. “But things are definitely not okay.” Her cheeks remained flushed, and her eyes blazing. She pulled away from Julie and shot Aidan a look that spoke volumes. “I sort of expect that kind of behavior from Cray, but what were you thinking? Especially after what you realized last night?” Her disappointment affected him more than he let on. “Aren’t you a chieftain? A powerful wizard?”
“I am,” he concurred before Julie or Tiernan could get a word in edgewise. Maeve would have never been so bold. So disrespectful. “And—”
“Disrespectful?” Chloe exclaimed, wide-eyed, downright fuming now as she caught his thoughts. “Seriously?”
Before he could respond, she spun on her heel and strode after Cray. He started to follow, but Tiernan put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Julie pursued instead.
“Let Chloe be, for now, Cousin,” Tiernan said softly.
“But she isnae safe,” he argued.
“She is,” he assured. “And ye need time to cool off.”
He sighed and shook his head but knew Tiernan was right.
“I am letting my emotions get the better of me at a bad time,” he confessed, frustrated with himself. Seeing things clear enough. Finally acknowledging what he had long denied. “In truth, I probably should have confronted Cray long before now.”
“Aye,” Tiernan agreed. “But ye kept it inside, determined not to let it bother ye.”
Tiernan chanted the tent down and prepared it for travel.
“Ye must keep in mind as well,” Tiernan went on, “that ‘tw
ill be harder than usual to control yer emotions on this journey because of whatever the Disinherited have done to our magic.” He gave Aidan a pointed look. “If ye recall, ‘twas nearly impossible for me to control my emotions when Julie and I traveled together.” He shrugged. “’Tis part of the darkness in all of this but ‘tis also part of the light.”
He frowned. “The light?”
“Aye.” They started after the others. “’Tis part of what it takes to come together with your lass.”
His lass? He wouldn't go that far. Yet the idea of her seeking Cray out to comfort him rankled.
“Like my battle skills being affected, I think ’tis far more likely the enemy at work,” he replied, “than part of a growing connection with Chloe.”
“As to yer battle skills, mayhap,” Tiernan conceded. “But the fluctuating emotions are both. ‘Tis the only way to break free from the dark and find the light.” He gave Aidan a telling look, catching his thoughts easily enough. “In yer case, quite literally. Ye need to get past the bad to find the good.”
“Well, I dinnae like it,” he grunted.
“I dinnae imagine ye do,” his cousin acknowledged. “But keep in mind, if yer situation is anything like mine, then finding the light means finding yer way back to yer magic. When that happens, I suspect yer battle skills and emotions alike will level out some.”
While he liked the idea of his magic being back, desperate for it actually, he wondered if he would be able to see this through. If he could somehow be with Chloe without losing his heart.
“That ye think losing yer heart is even a possibility now, means ye’re on the right path indeed,” Tiernan commented, contemplating Aidan’s reason for attacking Cray back there. “Ye know full well he was defending Chloe. He feels ‘tis unfair of ye to be obsessed with Maeve still.” He pointed out the obvious. “So at least in that, ye must realize he’s no real threat when it comes to yer Broun lass.”
She is not my Broun lass, he nearly said but stopped himself.
“I know what Cray implied,” he responded, “but ‘tis bloody hard to trust him.”
“Is it?” Tiernan said softly. “I caught yer thoughts, Cousin. I know ye realized that Cray and Maeve likely found love before ye two did.”
“Aye, mayhap,” he acknowledged, reminding his cousin Cray was no saint. “The betrayal came in him loving her after she and I came together. After she made her intentions known.”
“Yet she loved him first,” Tiernan reminded bluntly, forcing him to see the truth. Maeve had, in fact, been in love with Cray. Something like that did not simply go away. “I know ‘tis not what ye want to hear or accept but ‘twas mutual. ‘Twas also said he tried to turn her away.”
He knew. He had heard the rumors.
“He clearly didnae try verra hard,” he muttered, but deep down, knew that sort of love was unstoppable.
In no mood to talk about this, he redirected the conversation.
“So what happened to ye and Julie at the Irish Stonehenge?” he began only to stop short when the stone in Chloe’s ring suddenly flashed in his mind.
He tensed, sensing it was a warning.
Seconds later, his fear was confirmed when she screamed in terror.
Chapter Thirteen
“I’VE GOTTA SAY, Julie, though I enjoy a good adventure, this isn’t working for me.” She couldn’t remember the last time she was so upset. “If being thrust back in time into a supernatural world isn’t enough, I’ve got to deal with a couple of full grown men behaving like children!” She shook her head. “Why’d Aidan respond so strongly anyway? That was crazy!”
“I think we both know what that was all about.” Julie strode alongside her. “Aidan’s finally confronting his demons. Or should I say dragon.”
While she nearly said ‘why now?’ the answer was obvious enough. The Claddagh ring was at work, trying to free his heart so he could love another.
“That’s exactly right,” Julie murmured.
“You can read my mind?” she asked, surprised.
“Here and there.” Julie offered an apologetic grin. “Sorry, I’ll try not to. You coming into your magic and your growing connection with Aidan makes it sort of tough, though.”
“My magic,” she murmured, still trying to come to grips with that. Something she could admit Aidan was helping with a great deal. “I would’ve laughed at you if you’d said that a week ago.”
“I know, crazy, right?” Julie looked at her curiously. “How’s Madison doing anyway? And have the others shown up at the house in New Hampshire yet?”
“Madison’s...Madison.” She chuckled, glad to talk about something else. “Destiny and Alyssa are there, but not Ciara.”
Julie narrowed her eyes as she caught Chloe’s various thoughts.
“So Madison’s starting to catch on by the sounds of it.” Julie repeated what Madison had said about there being six, but Julie only needed one. “Sounds like she's referring to the Stonehenge’s. There are six altogether, but Tiernan and I only needed to seal off one from the evil brotherhood.” She contemplated Alyssa and Destiny. “Based on them eyeing the ring box on the mantle, they're catching on too. Especially Destiny, considering she didn’t even want to open the box.”
“Won’t that be a problem?” she asked. “I know my ring made my transition back in time, and everything that’s taken place a thousand times easier.” She frowned. “So what happens if one of us doesn’t put the ring on?”
“I don’t know.” Julie shook her head. “But it’s not something we need to worry about right now.” She eyed Chloe cautiously, slowly steering the conversation back to where it began. “I think exploring the dreams and dreamlike states you and Aidan are experiencing is more important.”
“Yeah, when he's not picking fights with dragons for no good reason,” she muttered, fully aware, despite how aggravating, that Aidan was finally releasing some pent-up anger.
She also recognized the real reason for her current frustration with him.
It wasn't so much because he had fought Cray, but for the same reason his cousin had chastised Aidan to begin with. The jerk had inwardly sworn his undying devotion to Maeve even as he comforted Chloe. Even after he kissed her. Because he had kissed her. That hadn't been a dream.
Which led her back to square one.
Julie was right. Best to focus on their bizarre dreams before anything else.
First, though, she wanted to find out what had happened to Julie and Tiernan at the Irish Stonehenge before they arrived here. What Grant was going to tell them about last night before he vanished.
She was about to ask, but unfortunately, all hell broke loose before she could.
A flurry of activity sounded to her right. A split second later, she was tossed over someone’s lap on a horse and flying through the woods.
She screamed in horror. “Aidan! Cray! Anyone!”
She felt the growing distance between her and Aidan, almost as if it were a palpable thing. A visible connection in her mind’s eye. It was so strong that it made the anger she had felt at him seem foolish now.
All that mattered was seeing him again. Being near him.
“Then be near him again,” the same feminine voice from Edinburgh Castle whispered in her mind. “Take what is rightfully yours. Follow your curious nature and be with him.”
Her curious nature? What did that mean? Yet she was curious about the powerful connection she had just felt between them. What was that exactly? What would it look like if it were more than just a sense? Perhaps a ley-line beam of light? A stream of sunlight? When said sunlight suddenly washed over the forest despite the tree cover, she smiled.
It would look like sunlight brightening the way between them.
Driving away the shadows and the heartache of the past.
Moments later, as if drawn by the light, by her, Aidan was there.
And he wasn't alone.
Cray appeared in front of them on foot, gripping an ax in one hand and a sword in
the other. Meanwhile, Aidan raced his horse alongside them and crossed blades with the man holding her. As he had likely intended, Cray’s blazing dragon eyes spooked her captor’s horse, and it reared up.
Though it might have been her imagination, she swore her ring sparked, and lightning flashed over Aidan’s blade. As if magic was trying to help but sputtered out.
Caught in a dizzying tailspin when the horse reared, she toppled over, falling toward the ground at breakneck speed. At this angle, she would snap her neck or end up beneath the animal. Luckily, before she hit the ground, Aidan caught her and set her down safely. Then he was off his horse defending her.
Strangely, she no longer wore what she’d put on in the tent but another gown. While similar to the dress that had magically appeared on her at Edinburgh Castle, it was even more provocative. It was also more golden colored than crème this time.
“Ye bloody bastard,” Aidan roared, going after her captor when he hit the ground, rolled and leapt to his feet. The men crossed blades with a fury that made her stumble back. It was one thing to see him fight his cousin, another, the enemy.
It was mesmerizing.
What she wouldn’t do to be able to write down what she witnessed. The amazing footwork. The way he swung his sword and moved his body. It was a glorious dance made of flexing muscles, precision, motion, and balance. Passion and anger. She had never seen anything quite like it. Anything so eye-drawing...or so terrifying.
She was so drawn to him battling that she didn't realize more men had arrived until a mini-battle exploded around her. By the looks of it, Scotsmen fought Scotsmen. Even the man who had kidnapped her was Scottish. Or so said his attire.
Despite her former captor's superior fighting skills, he soon fell beneath Aidan’s blade.
“Stand down,” a man roared, appearing on horseback beside Robert Bruce. “Stop attacking!”
It was clear he spoke to the men they fought. They were his warriors.
A Scot's Devotion (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era, #2) Page 8