by Donna Grant
“I don’t think anyone does. When we came to this realm the Dragon Kings were already here.”
“You never asked your lover how he came to be?”
She let out a soft sigh. “He was a dragon, Tristan. He was chosen to be a King because of his strength and the power of his magic. He was a natural born leader.”
“I fell from the sky,” Tristan said and looked to a distant mountain. “One minute there was nothing, and then there was the cold and snow and the howling wind.”
“You remember nothing before then?”
Tristan closed his eyes and thought back. It was a place he hadn’t bothered to look closer at because it hadn’t mattered. Until now. “Blackness. I was … floating.”
“You could have been in that space between life and death. I heard one Fae describe it after we healed him. He had been far gone, and at one point he stopped breathing.”
Tristan opened his eyes and looked at her. “Where was this place?”
“It exists all around us,” she said with a wave of her hand. “It’s not a place you can find on a map, and I don’t know how some go there and some don’t.”
He faced her and asked, “What did the Fae describe it as?”
“He said it was as if he could see everything from the past to the present and even the future. He saw everyone, heard everything. He witnessed cities rise and cities fall. He beheld civilizations crumble into dust as new ones were born.”
“And he remembered all of it?”
Rhi flicked her long hair over a shoulder. “For all of a few minutes after we healed him. After he slept, he recalled nothing of the event.”
“So he could’ve made it up.”
“He could have, but he didn’t. I especially remember him talking about floating and the darkness before a timeline of life was displayed for him to see.”
Tristan snorted as he turned away. “I want to know why I was made into a Dragon King.”
“Isn’t it enough you came back, handsome? And so close to your twin?”
He speared her with a glacial look. “What do you know of my past?”
“Nothing more than anyone else, but there’s no doubt Ian is your brother right down to the way a vein ticks on the side of your forehead when you get angry.”
“I do no’,” he said even as he reached up and rubbed his left temple.
She twisted her mouth in a wry frown. “Is lying to yourself helping? Is that what’s keeping you from Sammi’s bed?”
“Nay. It’s the memories.” He wasn’t sure why he told Rhi. It could be because she didn’t have ties to Dreagan or MacLeod Castle.
For long minutes Rhi was quiet, the night broken only by the sound of Laith’s wings beating as he flew around them. “Memories of when you died?”
“Memories of a life when I was … Duncan.”
“I didn’t think you had those memories,” she said in confusion.
“I didn’t. Until I met Sammi.”
Rhi put her hands on either side of her hips and tapped her nails on the stones. “How?”
“When I touch her the memories come.”
“Every time you touch her?”
He gave a shake of his head. “Nay. It’s random. I doona know when they’ll come. I had one tonight. It woke me.”
“And you’re sure you were Duncan in this memory?”
“I was in a castle surrounded by men who I knew to be close friends. Ian was beside me, teasing me.”
Rhi listened raptly. “The men. Can you describe any of them to me?”
“Three wore gold torcs around their necks. They were brothers, I’m sure of it.”
“Any other memories?” she asked in a soft voice.
Tristan hesitated before he swallowed and said, “I saw my hands except my skin was pale blue and there were long blue claws extended from my fingers. My hands were covered in blood that I somehow know was from a battle.”
“Is that all so far?”
“There is a third.”
Rhi slid from the wall to her feet. “I’ve heard enough already.”
“I’m in a mountain,” he said over her. “I’m being held prisoner with Ian. It’s a bad place we’re in, Rhi.”
Her silver eyes met his. “Yes, it was. It still holds evil.”
“These really are memories then?”
“Yes.”
He let his chin drop to his chest. “So I really was Duncan Kerr?”
“Is that so bad?”
“I doona know. I’ve no’ remembered everything.”
Rhi came to stand beside him as they looked out over the valley below them. “Ian Kerr is a good man, and his wife, Danielle, is a powerful Druid. Ian, along with the other Warriors from MacLeod Castle have fought to keep evil Druids from harming the world.”
“Is that how I died? By fighting against evil?”
She was silent too long. Tristan knew whatever had happened to end his life hadn’t been good.
“Never mind,” he said. “I doona want to know.”
Rhi placed a hand on his arm. “I don’t know why you couldn’t remember your past life, or why you are here now. I also don’t know why you became a Dragon King, but I can say with all honesty that you are one of only a few Kings that I like. They are better because you are now one of them. You embraced your life as King just as all Dragon Kings from the beginning of time have welcomed their role. Your past doesn’t define you, Tristan. Your actions in the present do.”
With a smile of encouragement, she was gone.
Tristan liked Rhi. She had a way of livening up any situation with her constantly changing nail color, her sarcastic comments, and her beauty.
The fact Con couldn’t stand to have her around only made her needle him mercilessly when she did help them, which was more often than she should with the way Con treated her.
Tristan wondered if it had anything to do with her Dragon King lover.
He inhaled deeply and called out to Laith via their link. “I need to leave. Watch over Sammi.”
“Tristan? What’s wrong? You sound … strange.”
“It’s nothing. I just need to see about something.”
He removed his jeans and ran to the edge of the mountain where he jumped off and shifted into dragon form. It was time he paid MacLeod Castle a visit.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sammi stretched languidly before she rolled over, expecting to find Tristan—and found cool sheets instead. Her smile faded as she opened her eyes to discover she was alone.
She sat up, the sheet held against her nakedness as she looked around the brightly lit room. The panic she first felt dissipated when she comprehended how late she had slept.
Shoving her wild hair out of her face, she scooted to the edge of the bed and yawned. There hadn’t been much talking between her and Tristan the night before, but she imagined he would try and talk her into returning to the manor.
Which she was still against.
He would argue with her, but she wasn’t going to budge. It didn’t matter that everyone at Dreagan thought she was being used to get to Jane. They could very well be right. In which case, she was going to make sure no one could harm Jane, and the only way to do that was to stay as far from the manor as she could.
“That’ll be easy on sixty thousand acres,” she said with a chuckle.
Sammi rose and padded into the bathroom where she took a quick shower. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so relaxed and … sated.
The smile she couldn’t stop wearing grew larger when she thought of Tristan’s wonderful mouth, hands, and body. She had never had someone touch her so deeply, nor had she ever responded so completely to someone.
Her smile slipped when she realized just how much she was thinking of him. Hadn’t she learned her lesson when she lost her mother?
“Immortal,” she said as she reached for the soap. “He’s immortal.”
That meant he couldn’t die. She wouldn’t suffer that same devastating, destroyin
g grief she had endured with her mother’s death.
“We had one night together. It was just one night. That isn’t serious,” she said as she washed and rinsed her hair and then her body.
By the time she was drying off she found the smile wider than ever. She was really going to have to get herself under control before Jane or someone else took one look at her and knew she and Tristan had been together.
Sammi found herself chuckling while dressing. She was starving. A quick run of the brush through her wet hair and she hurried into the main living area expecting to find Tristan.
When he wasn’t in sight, she went into the kitchen only to come up empty again. Her heart thumped dully against her rib cage.
Then she remembered that he was most likely patrolling the skies as he had done the day before. Their talk would wait, and it gave her time to come up with more arguments about why she couldn’t return to the manor.
She opened the fridge and rummaged until she found some ingredients to make a sandwich. With her hands full of meat, lettuce, a tomato, and cheese, she kicked the refrigerator door shut with her foot and turned to set the contents on the counter.
“Oh!” she screamed, jumping back when she saw a man with shoulder-length wavy, dark blond hair and gunmetal gray eyes.
He hastily lifted his hands and wrinkled his nose. “Sorry, lass. I thought you heard me come in. I’m Laith. I’ll be your guard for the day,” he said with a warm smile.
Sammi put her hand to her chest to calm her racing heart and couldn’t help but notice how handsome Laith was, if women liked the wickedly gorgeous type. She much preferred the quiet, commanding men herself.
Then his words registered. “You’re guarding me?”
“That I am,” he said and leaned his hands on the bar separating them.
She looked down at his faded red tee with the distinctive white script of Coca-Cola across the front.
“Sammi,” he called as he came around the bar. “Is everything all right?”
“Where is Tristan?”
“He had a few errands to run. He’ll be back. He asked me to watch over you until then.”
It was a plausible explanation, one she might have believed if she hadn’t seen the worry on Tristan’s and Rhi’s faces when they let her know a Dark Fae was tracking her.
The smile that she hadn’t been able to stop wearing couldn’t be found now. The dull thud against her rib cage was her heart telling her something was wrong.
She grabbed the counter to keep steady. “Is it true only a Dragon King can kill another Dragon King?”
“It is,” Laith grudgingly told her.
“How old are you?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Sammi, you are no’ supposed to know about us.”
“I get that, but I do. So get over it.” She licked her lips and softened her voice. “Please tell me.”
“Billions of years old. We’ve been around since the beginning of time.”
This was worse than she expected. They were billions of years old and only a few were married? Would Banan just find someone else when Jane grew old and died? Didn’t he care at all? And how was Jane all right with all of it?
“So,” she started, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and tried again. “So, most of you don’t tie yourself down to anyone.”
Laith’s forehead furrowed for a split second before he smiled. “Tristan is different, Sammi. He’s the newest Dragon King, so he hasna been around as long.”
That news didn’t make things any better. “But most of you don’t tie yourselves to a woman,” she said again.
“Aye,” Laith said with a loud sigh. “Most of us doona, but there is a reason for that, lass. There is much about our history you doona know, so you can no’ comprehend why we’re alone and choose to remain that way.”
“I think I get it.”
“You doona,” he said and took hold of her arms. “Banan, Guy, and Hal found their mates and married them. So did Kellan. It happens for some of us.”
“And the years they remain married is a blink in time?”
Laith drew in a deep breath. “It should be Jane telling you what it is to be a mate to a Dragon King, no’ me. Banan and Jane are mated for eternity. Jane will remain alive as long as Banan does.”
“What?” Sammi hadn’t known what Laith might tell her, but she hadn’t been prepared for that. “You mean Jane will live forever?”
“Aye, lass. None of the Kings takes a mate lightly. It’s why many of us doona remain with one woman for too long.”
Sammi backed up and rubbed her temple as her head began to ache. “Where is Tristan really?”
Laith dropped his hands and walked back around the bar. “He’ll have to be the one to tell you that. All I know is that he had somewhere to go.”
She wanted to call Laith back when he walked out of the house, but she couldn’t think of anything else to ask. Instead, she walked into the living room and sank onto the couch.
Last night she hadn’t thought about the days to come or what she might want. All she had on her mind was Tristan and following her heart. It had been so very long since she had done something for the sheer pleasure of doing it, but that’s exactly what the night with Tristan had been about.
Their passion had been explosive, their desire overwhelming. For the first time in months she forgot her life was in danger. She had let him consume her. It had been freeing, liberating.
And she had foolishly let the connection between them strengthen while she slept in his arms.
Sammi snorted. It hadn’t happened when she slept. It hadn’t even happened when they had made love.
It happened when she realized what he was and how he had been protecting her. That was the moment he had taken her breath away.
Their night together had simply destroyed the barriers around her heart without her even knowing it. She woke thinking she would have Tristan to herself to explore more of what was between them.
Fate once more gave her a slap in the face to remind her just who was in charge of things.
She thought about her sister mated to a King. Jane was now immortal. The thought left her reeling. It also bothered her that Jane hadn’t said anything, but why would she? Sammi hadn’t been there for the ceremony. Hell, she hadn’t even known there was a ceremony.
There had been a celebration that she hadn’t attended. Would things be different had she gone to the party? Would she have seen Tristan then and let herself give in to the desire?
Sammi knew she wouldn’t have. She had a tight rein on her feelings, especially when it came to the opposite sex. It was only the predicament she was in now that had weakened those protective walls around her.
Tristan, being the amazing man—Dragon King—that he was had shattered those walls.
If he could do that without even trying, what could he do to her if he really tried? That thought chilled Sammi. She refused to be put in a situation where she could lose herself to someone.
Which is exactly where she was headed with Tristan. She didn’t need to see into the future to know that she craved him as if he were the other half of her. It was dangerous ground she found herself on.
It was better that he was gone. It gave her time to collect her thoughts and erect a stronger barrier around herself, one that he could never touch.
Her body wanted him, and she knew she would give in to that temptation again, but she would never allow him close. He might not die on her, but he could still leave in other ways.
She wasn’t strong enough to endure that again. Everyone thought she was made of steel, but it was an act she put on to protect her delicate heart.
Tristan had almost led her to make a fatal mistake, a mistake she would have made had she woken up with him beside her. She had been angry when Laith told her he was gone for the day, but now she was glad.
She would be strong when he returned—strong enough to sever that glorious, wonderful link between them before she did something disast
rous like fall in love.
* * *
Tristan knew all about the shield over the land and MacLeod Castle that prevented mortals from seeing what was being hidden in plain sight.
He flew through the shield, the magic sizzling startlingly over his scales. As soon as he passed through it, he caught sight of the castle and the homes dotting the vast land.
With barely one circle around the castle, men came running out of the castle into the bailey. To his left he spotted a man with indigo skin and wings flying beside him.
“You can land in the bailey,” he said and dove toward the castle, spreading his wings at the last minute and coming to land atop the battlements before jumping to the bailey.
Tristan tucked his wings and repeated the move by the Warrior, except when he spread his wings and landed in the bailey, the blast of air had the men bracing themselves.
One of the Warriors with a torc stepped forward. He had light brown hair and soft green eyes. Tristan eyed him, recognition just out of reach. It was as if he knew this man, as if he had been a close friend. The gold torc around his neck brought back the memory he’d had while holding Sammi.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
Tristan shook his head, not bothering to shift into human form. He wasn’t completely sure coming to the castle was a wise move.
“I’m Quinn MacLeod. I had hoped … I thought you might remember since you came back.”
Tristan looked at the others around the bailey, all Warriors. But the one he had come to see was missing.
“Ian isna here,” Quinn said. “He and Dani live in Ferness near Charon, Phelan, and Malcolm.”
“I can bring him here,” said a man who had the same features as Quinn, as well as a torc.
Tristan guessed he was a MacLeod, but he couldn’t place a name or the face.
“I’m Fallon, Quinn’s eldest brother,” he said. “I can jump—teleport that is—and bring Ian here if you’d like.”
This was a mistake. All this proved was that he didn’t know these people. Tristan spread his wings to fly when Quinn shouted his name.
“Tristan! Wait! Please. We’ve been hoping to see you. Phelan told us you doona have the memories of when you were Duncan.” Quinn glanced at another brother who came up beside him and nodded. “This is Lucan, the middle MacLeod. I can introduce everyone to you.”