The losing side of the battle at that.
Though he had spent as much time as possible teaching her how to fight while they traveled, it didn’t feel like nearly enough. Granted, she was a quick study, no doubt aided by her blossoming magic, but he would never be satisfied when her life was at stake. Rather, he existed in a constant state of well-repressed terror that something might happen to her.
He continued sharpening one of her daggers as they sat and waited, all the while wondering what kind of hell Cray was wreaking. More so, he was truly worried about his cousin’s welfare, especially considering his inebriated state, fluctuating magic, and repressed dragon.
Chloe glanced out the tent flap, as on edge as he was. “How much longer do you suppose we have before the battling begins?”
“History says around midnight,” he replied. “And ‘twas nearly done by morn, so I imagine soon.”
As it was told, taking advantage of the drunken state of Robert and Donald’s men, Sir Alexander Mowbray would lead a force across a nearby ford shown to him by a traitor from this very camp. A man named Murray of Tullibardine.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, suddenly figuring it out, cursing himself for not seeing it sooner. “Murray is already passed out, so he cannae be the traitor!”
Chloe frowned before her eyes widened in understanding. “You don’t think Cray is the traitor?”
“Not a traitor, nay,” he cursed. “But seeing through what needed to be done!”
No sooner did he say it than cries rang out in the distance.
It had begun.
He’d wanted to sneak David out of here sooner, but the opportunity had not presented itself. Donald might have been too arrogant to post watchmen to keep an eye out for the enemy, but he had a man or two watching over the king. Men who had already run off to fight, leaving David undefended. If that weren’t enough, their encampment was well lit, allowing the enemy to watch their camp’s declining state easily enough.
“Come.” He pulled Chloe after him. “We must get the king.”
As luck would have it, David was only a few tents over, so they got to him in little time.
“Where is the regent?” Tiernan asked telepathically as he and Julie joined them.
“Last I saw, with Robert.” Aidan helped David onto a horse, once again questioning his own part in this plan. Killing Regent Moray, even to save Tiernan, Julie, and the king had been very hard, but if he had to kill a regent again, he would. Not only to spare his cousin the vile chore but to keep history on track. He looked at Tiernan. “Are ye sure about this, Cousin?”
“Aye,” Tiernan replied. “’Tis my turn to do the deed if need be. And yer turn to protect the wee king though ‘tis safe to say ye did the first time as well.”
That was neither here nor there. What mattered was their mission.
In accordance with history, Donald, Earl of Mar, had to die during this battle.
Aidan clasped Tiernan’s shoulder and nodded his thanks. “Be careful, Cousin. I will keep Julie safe.”
“Aye, ye better.”
Tiernan turned and embraced Julie, assuring her all would be well. When he raced into the night to fight, she murmured, “It better be, or I will come after you.”
Julie swung up behind David and Aidan behind Chloe. The battling drew closer, and cries of pain rent the air. Weapons drawn, they made their way into the woodland, not getting far before chaos erupted where they had just been.
“Find the bairn,” an all-too familiar voice roared, “and bring him to me!”
“Bloody hell,” Aidan cursed, glancing back. “’Tis the regent looking for David.”
“Why do you sound so alarmed?” Chloe said seconds before warriors flooded into the forest ahead of them, and their horse reared up.
“Like before the regent is possessed,” he said into Chloe’s mind, hoping Julie caught it as well. “He means to harm David, and without doubt, try to take you, Chloe.”
Because there was always that. The certain knowledge that the Disinherited wanted to get their hands on a Broun. He swung down, pulling her after him before the horse got even more spooked and threw them.
“Protect the king!” he said to Julie and Chloe.
Julie’s ring had started to shine, and Chloe’s eyes were sparkling. In turn, the trees around them.
They had discussed her blossoming magic at length while traveling and knew it tied in with the forest. Chloe was positive that's how she’d made the possessed men vanish after she was stolen, then again, made the Disinherited flee their possessed hosts during the overnight attack. In fact, it seemed she’d been feeling unusually kindred with trees since coming in contact with the old oak out front of the colonial in New Hampshire.
Now it all made sense, according to her.
“Because I lived amongst them for so long, the trees aid my magic,” Chloe had said, marveling at it. “I am strongest when I’m amongst them. They give me energy.”
She was right, too, seen clearly in the way the forest seemed to block warriors from getting to Chloe and David. Meanwhile, Julie held her own beside him, having learned to fight quite well.
Yet the battling was everywhere, and their camp’s numbers were dwindling quickly.
Men were caught unaware, either passed out drunk or close to it.
So many came at Aidan, he could barely keep up. Worse yet, though he fought better than ever for some blasted reason, his magic fluctuated again, and he had no idea why.
At least not until he realized Chloe’s fluctuated as well.
It took him a moment to register that. While he knew the magic of their Claddagh ring was shared, this felt different. Hard to explain. Glitchy. Much like Grant's ethereal form lately. He was so caught off guard by the sensation, it took him several seconds longer than it should have to get to her when everything went wrong.
Much like it had when he was forced to kill Regent Moray.
“Aidan,” Chloe screamed.
He fought like a madman but made no headway. It almost felt like everything had gone into a slow motion tailspin. Like time crawled yet passed in a flash. Fast and slow all at once. Lightning sizzled over his Viking blade as he fought, but it didn’t get him to her any quicker.
But then maybe he wasn’t supposed to.
Maybe this was destiny's plan all along.
Donald arrived far too quickly, racing toward David and Chloe with his blade drawn, his lips curled back in a vicious sneer. He wanted the king dead.
He would see the king dead.
“Chloe,” Aidan roared, trying to tell her to flee with the king, to protect him, but he was unable to form a coherent word.
He was too terrified.
Too desperate.
Trying to stop something he knew couldn't be stopped.
That was not stopped but unfolded in a vicious, almost hard to believe set of events.
Donald was almost to David, his blade full swing when Robert Bruce came out of nowhere and ran his sword through the regent’s gut. While relieved, it was short-lived. Because things only got worse from there. His stomach sank when Robert’s eyes changed in an instant and turned David’s way.
Just like that, Donald’s possession had seeped into Robert.
“My God,” Chloe whispered, trying to protect David the best she could. “Robert.”
That’s all she got out before things got even worse.
Robert thrust his blade at David only for Cray to race out of the night, not drunk in the least, but grim as he ran his blade across the Bruce’s neck. All the while, Aidan tried to get closer, but it felt like miles rather than feet were between him and Chloe.
Then it happened.
His worst nightmare finally unraveled.
His selfless lass saw what no one else did and leapt forward, taking the blade whipped at Cray. His cousin spun, baffled, catching her before she hit the ground.
“I’m sorry, Aidan,” she whispered into his mind, her internal voice fading as Cray fell to
his knees with her in his arms. “I owed him this at the very least.”
Then, with a dagger lodged in her heart, she faded away altogether.
Chapter Thirty-One
RATHER THAN FLY, she ran through the woodland, drawn by a familiar energy. A place somehow connected to the Irish Stones at which she had first found her beloved. She slowed as she drew closer, taken by the magic she felt there.
The utter peace and serenity.
“The Ring of Brodgar,” she whispered, stopping in the circle of stones nestled on a small isthmus between Lochs Stenness and Harray. She spun slowly, looking from rock to rock, trying to understand how this was connected to Ireland. How it was connected to her. But the answer eluded her.
“What are ye doing, Chloe,” came Aidan’s young voice. He appeared out of the woodland behind her, curious. “Why are ye here?”
“Because ‘tis lovely,” she exclaimed, concerned that he had followed her. That she never sensed him. But then there was something about this place, wasn’t there? A calling of sorts that had to do with them both. “We should get ye back wee Aidan.” She crouched and smiled. “Yer parents will be worried.”
“Och, they are a powerful wizard and witch,” he admonished, gazing at her with adoration. “Surely, they already know where I am.”
Maybe but she did not think so.
She needed to get him back.
She must keep him safe.
“Chloe,” he whispered, looking at her with childlike wonder. His eyes suddenly shined light turquoise with newfound powerful magic. “Ye look verra bonny.”
That’s when she realized he could see her.
Truly see her.
He had been unable to do that in any other life.
But then he had never possessed such magic.
“Oh, laddie, look at that,” she whispered, cupping his cheek. “Everything I have always known ye were on the inside has surfaced. Such perfection.”
“But I would give it all up for ye, lass,” he whispered. “If ye will just stay with me.”
She blinked, confused. What was he talking about?
“Nay.” She shook her head and pulled him into her arms. “Never give up what ye have been given for ‘tis well deserved. ‘Tis who ye truly are, lad.”
“That is where ye are wrong, my lass,” he whispered, his voice changing, growing deeper. “Ye are who I truly am. What we have found together.”
She blinked again, doubly confused before her body suddenly went cold, and her surroundings changed. All but him, that is. She could still feel Aidan. Sense him close, pulling her to him from a dark abyss.
Trying to find him though he was right here, she closed her eyes and opened them not to a child in her embrace but a man holding her on his lap. They were still within the stones, but daylight had turned to night, and fog drifted in heavy wisps around them.
“I’ve been here before,” she whispered, staring up into his damp eyes. “Haven’t I?”
“We both have.” His gaze flickered to the standing stone beside them then back to her. “In a dream or in reality, ‘tis impossible to know, but this stone is ours. ‘Twas the one where we looked for each other on Julie and Tiernan’s adventure at the Callanais Standing Stones. Then ‘twas the one we were beside when my arch-wizard magic sparked, and I finally saw you.” He touched her cheek. “’Tis also the verra stone we sat beside when we first met in Ireland so long ago.”
“It is, isn’t it?” she whispered, tearing up. She looked from the standing stone to him. “Why are we here now?”
He glanced up before his gaze returned to her. “Because ye died, lass.”
Startled, she glanced up as well only to realize Grant stood there quietly, respectfully, more whole than she had ever seen him.
That’s when it all came rushing back.
Robert killed Donald.
Cray killed Robert.
Then she protected Cray.
“This is what happened to Tiernan too,” she said softly, looking at Aidan again. “He died then...” She searched his eyes, seeing so much. Understanding. She looked from Grant to Aidan. “Something must be sacrificed...because of what the brotherhood did to the unicorn. It’s the only way to seal off this Stonehenge from evil and help save Scotland.”
“Then I’ll sacrifice myself,” she began only for him to put a finger to her lips and shake his head.
“You’ll do no such thing.” His gaze was never more loving. “Not if I can save you.”
“Save me?” She tried to shake her head, but her body remained immobile, her soul hanging on by a thread. “But it’s already too late...” She trailed off, feeling his heroic essence warming her spirit even as she fought whatever he intended to do. “Unless you’re the one sacrificing...”
“Do you not realize by now how far we Hamilton’s will go for our one true love?” Grant said softly, crouching beside them. He was younger now, his features so very similar to Aidan’s, his eye color a dead match. “That we would give up anything? Anything at all?”
Grant’s kind gaze lingered on her face for a moment before his moist eyes rose to Aidan. “Are you ready then, my lad? Truly ready?”
What was happening? What was he doing?
“Do you even need to ask?” Aidan said to Grant.
She looked back and forth between them, confused until she realized. Until she understood why she had returned to this Stonehenge upon death and thought of that day with little Aidan. Why she’d been taken back to the moment his arch-wizard magic ignited.
“Oh God, no,” she whispered, realizing just how far he was willing to go to bring her back.
What it would cost him.
This was what her cryptic words about writing memoirs had referred to.
Before she could write about everything happening and immortalize his beloved clans, he would have to give up who he was. Forfeit everything. His very soul. Or all he loved most would be lost. Who he loved most. “Aidan, don’t. Please. You’ll end up regretting this.” She panicked, desperate to stop him. “You’ll end up hating me.”
“Never,” he vowed. His gaze returned to hers, his heart in his eyes. “I could never hate you, Chloe. I am incapable of it not just in this lifetime but every one before.”
“Nevertheless.” She didn’t want this for him. “This is too much.”
Because it was.
So very much more than he should give.
“Living without you would be too much.” He cupped her cheek and brushed his lips across hers. “Everything else is manageable.”
“Don’t,” she began, but it was too late.
He was already letting go.
“Oh, Aidan,” she whispered hoarsely. Tears blurred her vision when he and Grant's eyes sparked with magic.
She gazed into Aidan's eyes, remembering when they first shined like this. The incredible magic that had flared to life. He was as much in awe staring at her now as he had been then. His magic just as brilliant.
Only now, she had to watch it fade away.
She had to watch him say goodbye to something that was so much a part of him.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as the bright shining turquoise in his eyes faded ever so slowly, and Grant’s brightened ever more. What had ignited in his great grandson because of DNA filtered back to who had given it to him through his lineage.
Moment by heartbreaking moment, Aidan’s glorious light dwindled until the darkness and Stonehenge receded, and loving warmth filled her. Slowly but surely, life returned to her limbs. The fog shied away, and a setting sun took its place. A fading ball of fire that gave life but could just as easily take it away. Now, in some strange way, it took a piece of him as readily as it had once taken her, changing life as they knew it.
She never looked away but stayed with Aidan the whole time.
There for him when, despite how hard he fought them, tears trickled down his cheeks.
She felt his inner torture as though it were hers.
Experienced
the crippling pain that tore at his soul.
While tempted to tell him how very sorry she was, she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. This was what he was willing to sacrifice. Not for the sake of closing off Brodgar Stonehenge from evil and keeping Scotland safe but for her.
To give them the life they deserved.
To be with her always.
“Thank you,” she whispered, cupping his cheeks. “I love you, Aidan.”
“And I love you, lass,” he whispered back. “With all my heart.”
Her gaze lingered on his face for a time before she finally took in their surroundings. They were where she had fallen during the battle. The sun no longer set but rose. Its newborn light cracked over the horizon and filtered through the trees. David wasn’t here, but she knew he was safe.
Only Julie, Tiernan, and Cray remained, all solemn but full of pride as they looked at Aidan and Chloe. They had accomplished their mission, and history was still on track. More importantly, one more Stonehenge had been closed off from their nemesis.
Their pride, more than anything, though, was for Chloe’s willingness to sacrifice her life not just for Cray but the whole of Scotland. And very much for Aidan, who had sacrificed so very much in the end.
After all, he had given up a truly irreplaceable, soul deep part of him.
His magic.
Aidan was no longer a wizard.
Chapter Thirty-Two
DESPITE THE OVERWHELMING loss of life at Dupplin Moor, enough seasoned warriors were left to get King David out of there before any harm befell him.
“’Twill be all right,” he assured wee David before they went their separate ways. “We will join up with ye again soon enough.” He gestured at Cray. “Until then, ye’ve the mighty MacLeod to watch over ye.”
David’s round eyes went to Cray before returning to Aidan and Chloe. “Thank ye for protecting me.”
“Of course.” Chloe embraced him, whispering in his ear, “What are half faeries for?”
King David was escorted off by one of his men as the retinue prepared to head north, their spirits trampled by the sound defeat. Nearly seventy percent of their army had been slain to the enemy’s mere thirty-three men. Now Balliol’s traitorous countrymen celebrated their victory and prepared to crown their false king despite another still reigning.
A Scot's Devotion (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era, #2) Page 20