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

by Purington, Sky

“Nay, there will be no reasoning with me, ye bloody bastard!” Cray agreed from the other side of the door, catching Aidan’s every word. But then he was half dragon, which, according to him, meant he had excellent hearing.

  “Cray, it really is all my fault,” she called out, not about to let his wrath turn Aidan’s way. “I’m so incredibly sorry. I just...” What? Decided Cray’s love for Maeve didn’t matter? That Aidan deserved her more? Because she knew via her connection with Aidan, that Cray had followed everything telepathically. “I just loved Aidan so much I didn’t want him to live yet another life without love.”

  She recalled with vivid clarity the desperation she had felt when Étaín gave her moments to decide. She could give Aidan the life he deserved if she was willing to give up everything. As it happened, if she became a faery again, she would be banned from any future contact with him. Yet it made no difference because she wouldn’t return to how things had been. She didn’t want him spending his life loving a woman he could never touch.

  He deserved a normal life. Intimacy. Children.

  “The sun was setting. I had a split second to decide, and Maeve came to mind.” She bit back tears and shook her head, so incredibly sorry for all the harm she had done. The lives she had meddled with. The blind love she’d felt for Aidan that had in the end, broken not just his heart but Cray’s. The MacLeod had suffered every bit as much, seen clearly in the emotional fury he showed now. The heart wrenching angst she felt churning inside him.

  “I never meant to hurt you, Cray,” she said through the door. “I just wanted someone truly kind for Aidan. Someone who would watch over him like I never could again. Someone I knew could be a true friend to him and love him the way he should be loved.”

  Someone who would sit by his side, consoling him late into the night when he lost a loved one like she had when he lost his great-granda Grant. Though very young at the time, he had been as heartbroken as everyone else. Fresh grief washed over her as she thought about it.

  As all her memories came rushing back.

  Though she was but an unseen faery, Aidan’s life had very much become hers.

  She knew his parents and grandparents and even his most cherished allied clans, the MacLomains and MacLeods. She had flitted about, watching over his kin the best she could. Watching his cousins grow. Though he had no knowledge of her, she recalled Ethyn now and looked forward to seeing him again. He was a lighthearted sort, quick to joke, often making her laugh with his antics. She also remembered Cray’s older brother Marek. How fierce he was but in a different, more tempered way than Cray.

  Which brought her back to Cray and how she had watched him grow too.

  She had loved him just as Aidan had, often having conversations with Aidan about Cray’s ever-growing skills as a fighter. His way with the lasses from a young age. He’d never tell his overly cocky cousin as much, but Aidan was fonder of Cray than he knew. He admired him a great deal, often envying the way he spoke his mind.

  “Please forgive me, Cray.” She leaned against the door, hung her head, and whispered because she couldn’t quite find her voice. “I really am so incredibly sorry. Not just for what I did but that in the end, when Maeve must’ve broken free of the spell and remembered how much she loved you, that you lost her all over again.”

  Cray had gone silent. While she knew he had followed her every thought, she couldn’t get a read on him. Silence reigned for long seconds before Aidan’s hand landed on her shoulder.

  “He’s gone, Chloe,” he said softly.

  “But I never heard him leave.”

  “Dragons are especially light on their feet when they want to be.” He pulled her against him and held her, offering much needed comfort. “Though I know ‘tis hard you cannae blame yourself, lass. Anyone who had lived such a long existence watching the one they loved come and go would have done the same.”

  Was that true? It was impossible to know. If they had, they probably would have come up with a better match than a woman they knew loved another. That was just cruel of her. Heartless.

  “Nay, ‘twas the verra opposite, Chloe.” Aidan cupped her cheeks and met her eyes. “You thought with your heart and did what you felt was best for me. When you love as fiercely as we did, you dinnae think twice about making that happen if given the chance.” He brushed his lips across hers. “Whilst I will always be sorry for my part in your ultimate demise, I am thankful that you saved me. That we had a chance to find each other again.”

  “Which could have been done,” she said softly, “without hurting Maeve and Cray.”

  “You acted on instinct and did what was best for me,” he said. “We both know when you gave up the chance to become a faery again, Fae magic was at work. The verra last of your powers. It aided you in choosing Maeve. Which tells me, she was likely a verra good match for me, Cray or no Cray.”

  She knew he was right, but that didn’t make this any easier.

  Aidan looked at her so tenderly it made her chest tighten with emotion. “You loved me too much to watch me live without love again.” He placed her hand over his heart. “Because you knew had you become a faery and were banned from me, I loved you too much to ever love another. Not in this lifetime. Not in any. I would have lived a loveless existence for eternity because I was only ever meant to be with you.”

  She had known that. But did it make it right?

  “Aye, lass, it does.” He tilted her chin until their eyes aligned. “Because had you not gone through with it, everything might be different. We might not be here now. You would forever be a faery, and I a husk of what I once was.” He shook his head. “Though Maeve and Cray would have found love for a time, she still would have died. Or, if by chance she never got sick and lived, what of Cray’s destined Broun? Because one way or another, there’s no denying the draw betwixt MacLomain’s and their destined Brouns.”

  “Unless,” she replied, knowing it was false even as she said it, “Cray’s like Tiernan and not destined for a Broun.”

  “I think we both know that’s not true.” The corner of his mouth curled up, and a dimple appeared. “Though I cannae begin to imagine how things will go betwixt Madison and Cray considering the state in which she already has him.”

  She couldn’t help a small smile, well aware he was trying to cheer her up. Something he had always been very good at. He smiled in return, somehow making her whole world bright and sunny again.

  “You used to smile like this all the time,” she murmured, touching the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t know until just now how much I missed it.”

  Though she was overwhelmed by everything she’d remembered, she was also thankful her memories were back. More so, that by some twist of fate, or transmigration of the soul, the Claddagh ring, or even Étaín herself, they had found each other again.

  They had been given another chance to live a normal life together.

  “Aye,” he murmured, following her thoughts. “And everything it entails.”

  Before she could respond, his lips were on hers again, hungry in a way that told her he wanted it all. Not just marriage but children. Something they had talked about between her discovering he loved her and sleeping together for the first and last time. They had wondered what their offspring would look like. Would their daughter have Chloe’s reddish-blonde hair? Their son his father’s turquoise eyes?

  As their kisses grew more passionate, and he pressed her back against the door, they once again wondered the same. Her appearance wasn’t all that different, and yet again, there was nothing to stop her from getting pregnant. A fact that seemed to fuel them as he tossed aside his plaid and yanked her dress up.

  Desperate, he hoisted her against the door, urged her to wrap her legs around him, then filled her with one powerful thrust. She half gasped, half cried out in pleasure at the intrusion. At the sharp thrill that lanced her core.

  He didn’t take her gently but hard.

  Deep.

  Again and again.

  He rot
ated his hips enough to wring blazing sensation from her, hitting every spot just right. Bliss ravaged his features. His sweat-slicked muscles flexed as he braced a hand against the door, and clutched her ass with the other.

  The way he worked his hips now, sort of half thrusting half rotating, while grinding against her clit, drove her pleasure to a near breaking point. Yet just before she climaxed, he slowed, keeping her perched on the edge. Desperate for more. Panting. Needy. Her flesh hypersensitive. Her body in limbo, craving his next move. A thrust that proved well worth the wait when he slammed into her hard enough to drive her up the door and catapult her over the edge into an orgasm for the ages.

  Her body locked up, and her toes curled. She dug her nails into his back, bit her lower lip hard, and tried not to scream. Seconds later, everything let go in a euphoric full-body release of trembling, her inner muscles clenching and unclenching.

  With her until the end, he finally let go too, releasing a ragged groan as he throbbed deep inside her. Though tremors rippled through his strong body, he never let go but held her in place, issuing a deep rumble of approval when she milked him.

  Eventually, he lowered her, and his lips found hers in a kiss so tender it nearly made her weep. His love for her was all wrapped up in it. His heart was in his eyes when he looked at her. Though he didn’t voice it, she knew their time together, both in previous lives, and this one had culminated in a great love between them.

  A love that was old and new all at once.

  A love that, based on the way he filled the tub and warmed the water with a flick of a wrist, seemed to be aiding his magic. Which brought her mind back to all things mystical. Strangely, though the stone in her ring had shined the color of his eyes earlier, it had returned to a simple gem.

  “Is that normal?” she asked, enjoying the way he watched her boldly now as she undressed. How he even helped her bathe. “I know the stone can fluctuate in color at the beginning, but I was under the impression once it shined so brightly, it would stay that way.”

  “From what I’ve heard, it can vary,” he replied. “Though I get the sense ‘twill be part of us closing off our particular Stonehenge.”

  “I think you’re right,” she murmured, sensing that as well. More specifically, remembering something. “We’ve been there before...Brodgar Stonehenge, in your current life.” She met his eyes, surprised by the revelation. “Do you remember?”

  “I do.” His expression grew unsettled. “My parents were visiting an allied clan in the Orkney’s, and I wandered that way.”

  “Because of me.” She became equally unsettled as she thought about it. “I was drawn to it, curious, and you followed me.” She shook her head. “We didn’t go far. It was just through the woods. But you gave your parents a fright.”

  “Because I was only seven winters old.”

  Their eyes met in concern, wondering how this tied in with everything because surely it must.

  After all, something life-altering had happened that day.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  AS THEY HEADED south toward Dupplin Moor, he and Chloe's latest revelation about the Ring of Brodgar kept him unsettled. Though they’d discussed it with Tiernan and Julie, they had come to no real conclusions other than their destiny was most definitely tied in with the Stonehenge. Something his ghostly great-granda pondered with a grave expression as he sort of half walked half drifted alongside them.

  “I had just passed away,” Grant grumbled. “But I suspect if your parents didnae sense it or even Adlin, then I probably wouldnae have either.” He shook his head. “Though I ken your reasons for not telling your parents, I wish you had, lad. I wish they knew your magic had increased at the Stonehenge and not in the courtyard later that day.”

  As it so happened, and of little consequence until now, Aidan’s magic wasn’t at its peak at birth. Though born a wizard with magic, the unique power that made him an arch-wizard, ignited for the first time at the Brodgar Stonehenge. Something he didn't mention at the time not only because he got in trouble for wandering off but because he’d been with Chloe.

  His best kept secret.

  In truth, coming into his fullest power had been quite peaceful. Something he would never forget but cherish. For it had allowed him to finally see Chloe in all her splendor. She had only ever been dressed like a medieval Scotswoman, something she did to make him feel comfortable, but in reality, she wore a beautiful gown of spun gold. A lovely dress that, as the years wore on, sometimes shifted colors slightly or even hugged her curves differently.

  “That dress drove me mad once I was old enough to appreciate it,” he had murmured in her ear earlier, wanting to be inside her again despite having had her twice that morn. “Until the day I could finally remove it.”

  It was also remarkably similar to the lovely gowns Étaín had dressed her in at Edinburgh Castle then after she was stolen by a possessed warrior. They realized now that the goddess was trying to make her remember while at the same time instilling her with renewed confidence.

  “What’s stranger still,” Grant went on, pulling Aidan back to the here and now. “Is that no one felt your arch-wizard magic spark for the first time. ‘Tis a thing that!” He shook his head. “Your parents should have most certainly felt it and without doubt, Adlin.”

  “’Tis neither here nor there now,” he began, but Grant cut him off.

  “But ‘tis, my lad!” He passed through a tree then reappeared. “Not only did it spark without them knowing, but it happened with a faery in a Stonehenge that we now know is connected to so much.” His gaze landed on Aidan. “That is still connected to you and your faery!” He looked at Chloe kindly, marveling at the idea she had been around his clan for so long. Around him when he was still alive. “Or should I say human witch this time around with Fae blood?”

  Much like Adlin, Grant had taken to switching subjects in a flash and did so now.

  “Chloe, you mentioned the sun setting when Étaín gave you the choice to return to being a faery.” Grant eyed her curiously. “Is it safe to say the sun had you on some sort of time limit?”

  He knew Grant asked because the sun was obviously part of all this. It had been a countdown of sorts on Tiernan and Julie's adventure.

  “Yes, definitely,” Chloe replied to Grant. “The setting sun was a deadline.” She shook her head, clearly trying to remember. “I’m just not sure why. All I know is it's connected to Étaín somehow.”

  “And Étaín is connected to the Irish Stonehenge,” Grant murmured. He pondered it but came to no solid conclusion. “’Twill bear watching as all this continues.”

  Aidan nodded in agreement.

  Grant once again switched topics.

  “’Tis curious I never sensed you, Chloe,” he mused. “Which makes one wonder how many other faeries are flitting about without us being the wiser.”

  He started to say more, but wind gusted through the forest with the incoming storm, and he blew away, dissipating into thin air.

  “Faeries flitting about mankind is not a common occurrence,” Chloe said softly. “They prefer to keep to the trees.”

  She cozied back against him, forever keeping him erect. He longed for the moment they stopped, and he had her alone.

  “In fact, I never came across another faery obsessed with a human.” She spoke softer still, her arousal clear in the octave of her voice. “I certainly never came across another who had fallen in love with one.”

  Though the weather had been dreary as they traveled, it more often than not felt like the sun shined down on them. Being with her made him happy. He enjoyed talking with her, their conversations endless and varied. While he liked lasses plenty, he had never enjoyed spending time with one as much as he did her and knew it would always be like that.

  He already envisioned her cozy in his bed, back at his castle. The idea of her warming his bed every eve and waking up in his arms each morn made him eager to put all this behind them and start their life together. He looked forw
ard to her becoming part of his clan. Giving him advice over the years. Being there to counsel and question him with her curious mind as their little one cuddled between them.

  He looked forward to that most of all.

  Seeing her belly swell with his bairn and watching their child grow. Filling the castle with children who would laugh and play with their great-great-ghostly-granda Grant and whoever else was about. He looked forward to growing old with her. Enjoying their grandchildren. There were so many good years ahead. So much joy. Never once did it occur to him that she might not stay until she made a random comment about the future during one of their chats.

  While he knew she wanted a life with him, it wasn’t something they had spoken about and probably should. So when they were alone later that eve, he finally said what he’d held back ever since he overheard her thoughts about marriage.

  “Though ‘tis a lot to ask, I dinnae want you to leave when this is all over, lass.” He cupped her cheek, never more serious. “You know that, aye? The life I want for us?” He traced the soft contours of her jawline with his finger, unable to stop his thickening brogue. “Ye know I loved ye in my last life then again in this one when ye were a faery,” he said softly. “But I hope ye ken that I’ve fallen in love with ye all over again these past few days.” He shook his head. “That I cannae imagine my life without ye.”

  And he couldn’t. So much so that if she wanted to remain in the future, he would go.

  He would be with her wherever she wanted.

  “I know,” she murmured, her breath quickening at his touch. “I feel the same.” She shook her head. “But I won’t let you leave your family.” Her words made his heart soar. “If you’ll have me, I want to stay here.”

  “Aye?” He searched her eyes. “You’re sure?” Though he’d prefer to leave it at that, he needed to make sure she understood. “As you can see, ‘tis a verra different day and age, lass. Not only that, but ‘tis a verra turbulent country.” He shook his head. “That isnae going to change anytime soon. After all of this is done, things might return to normal, but even normal can be rife with unrest in Scotland.”