A Scot's Favor (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era Book 4)

by Sky Purington

  She tried to nod, to let him know she could handle this, but there was no need. Her body let them both know when waves of fresh, warm pleasure rolled through her. He watched her for a moment, seemingly mesmerized before he asked once again if she wanted him to continue or stop.

  Stop? Now? Never. Not when she craved more despite feeling so satisfied. More of the way he looked at her. Touched her. More of everything he could make her feel. So she removed her bra and pulled his lips to hers once more.

  While she sensed he worried whisky might be affecting her judgment, his desire for her made it difficult for him to think rationally. More so, pull away. Which was just fine because the whisky wasn’t driving her on. If anything, it finally gave her the courage to take what she wanted. What she swore she’d wanted since the beginning of time.

  So before he thought to hesitate again, she chanted the rest of his clothing off and welcomed him between her thighs. A fresh ache sparked to life at the sight of him. At the heat of his strong body hovering inches from hers. At the feel of his heavy shaft seeking entrance.

  “Please,” she groaned, desperate to finally feel this. Him. Deep inside her.

  “Bloody hell, I couldnae stop if I wanted to,” he cursed, his gaze both lustful and worshiping when he, at last, pushed forward.

  Just like everything else up to this point, her fantasy about sex paled in comparison to the sensation of him filling her. There was no pain, only pressure followed by a rush of pleasure. Then, even more pleasure when he filled her entirely. When she began trembling again, and his concerned gaze went to her face, she could only shake her head and whisper, “Don’t stop...please don’t stop.”

  Apparently, that was all he needed to hear because he most definitely didn’t stop. Instead, he began moving in a way that made her whole world tilt on its axis. Or that’s how it felt as he kept filling her with long, deep thrusts. She wanted to wrap her legs around him but could only manage to grip his biceps.

  As he moved, the ache blossomed into something much more profound. She tried to swallow, breathe, anything, but was locked in a euphoric, erotic building sensation that filled her whole body. It lifted her up and up until she was consumed by bliss. By a wondrous glow that crawled through her veins until it focused on her center. On the friction of their bodies joined together.

  He didn’t kiss her but watched her through half-mast lids as he built her up. Sweat slicked his body, and his features twisted in near rapture as he drove them higher with every thrust. With every roll of his hips.

  Until it hit.

  That’s the only way she could describe the borderline pain-pleasure sensation that suddenly screamed through her. That made everything spin out of control. An avalanche of pure ecstasy overtook reality. She dug her nails into him and cried out, barely aware that he’d thrust one last time and roared his own release. Barely aware of anything but the sheer carnal wonder she experienced.

  In fact, she remained that way, barely aware of anything for some time. Rather, she floated in a semi-haze made up of his warmth. The scent of his spicy skin. Then, almost seamlessly, his warmth became that of sunlight cutting down through the trees and his scent the mingled fragrances of the forest.

  Though it felt like a dream, she knew it was a memory from their first life.

  More than that, she was human.

  She crouched in a stream of sunlight to gather herbs only to realize she was at the Irish Stonehenge. More than that, by their stone, beneath their tree.

  “There ye are,” came a sing-song feminine voice in her mind. “I wondered if ye would happen this way again.”

  “And so I have.” She stood and smiled at the unicorn that had appeared. “’Tis good to see ye again.” For she’d met the beastie some time ago in this very spot. She had claimed to be waiting for someone. “Did yer friend finally join ye after last we met?”

  “He did.” The unicorn tossed her head. A playful gesture, equivalent to smiling. “I think ye would like him very much. He enjoys this area as much as ye seem to.” She looked at the tree. “The bountiful nature it provides.”

  “I do so love this area,” she agreed, smiling when a squirrel leapt onto her shoulder. “It affords me great peace.”

  “I imagine it does, considering ye prefer us woodland creatures to most.” The unicorn tossed her head about again. Her ears twitched. “He joins me soon. Do not be frightened.”

  She tensed, grateful for the warning when a tall, strapping warrior appeared at the woodland’s edge. When his eyes connected with hers, her breath caught. It was the same man Ethyn had become before. The Fianna warrior. The wolves who traveled with him melted back into the forest as he approached. His steady, curious gaze never left her. Both respect and appreciation lit his eyes.

  The unicorn made introductions, referring to each of them merely as the friend she wanted the other to meet. Then, as she was want to do when feeling especially frisky, she vanished in a sparkle of gold dust that matched her horn.

  This, alarmingly, left her alone with the warrior, which was forbidden.

  “I should go,” she said as a bird landed on her other shoulder.

  “I wish ye would not,” he said softly, far gentler than she expected. For she knew how ruthless and fierce his type could be.

  Now that the unicorn was gone, his wolves melted out of the woods, clearly set to protect him. Naturally, the bird and squirrel left, but she was by no means alone. Rather, several of his wolves plunked down beside her. His brows swept up in surprise, the interest he already felt toward her clearly increasing.

  Yet, as it happened, he wasn’t the only one surprised.

  Not when he called her something truly unexpected.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I HAVE NEVER come across a Woodland Druidess before,” he said gently, worried he might frighten the beautiful lassie off only for her and the memory to vanish anyway.

  Ethyn opened his eyes at nearly the same moment as Ciara. While it saddened him to watch her disappear in another life, he was relieved to find her still safely in his arms in this one. Somewhere he prayed she would always remain.

  Based on the lighting, it was early morning. It seemed they had fallen asleep after lying together. Fallen asleep and dreamt the same thing. Recalled the same memory.

  “I was a druidess?” she whispered, her eyes round with surprise before she calmed, almost as though it felt right. As though she were starting to remember. “I was, wasn’t I?”

  No wonder she occasionally had an Irish lilt. One life dribbled into another.

  “You were as bonny in that life as you are in this one,” he said softly, cupping her cheek, suddenly feeling blessed. “I didnae truly think your sort existed. You were so gentle and kind to the woodland creatures. A point of safety for them.”

  “As were you.” She put her hand over his, her emotions even clearer to him than before. Her drowsy contentment was a mix of what she’d just learned and what they had experienced before reliving their memory. The untouchable lovemaking.

  While convinced of it before, and despite the memory they’d just shared, now that they’d lain together, he knew, without question, she was meant for him. He’d seen the deep love his parents and grandparents had shared. Had been told what to expect of the MacLomain, Broun connection. Yet still, he was caught unaware by how powerful the feeling truly was. The blazing desire and incomparable passion he found in her arms.

  Which, as a whole, made him feel guilty for ever having lain with another woman.

  “You don’t need to feel guilty,” Ciara said softly, following his thoughts. “You couldn’t stop living waiting for your Broun to come along. If she came along.” She offered a crooked smile. “Pretty sure no one before you of MacLomain blood did.”

  “Nay, but no other MacLomain had their lass trapped in a beastie by their side watching them...be with others.”

  He could tell by the brief flicker of pain in her eyes, it had been difficult, but Ciara had perspective. Not onl
y that, but she possessed a sense of humor he more than appreciated at the moment.

  “Hey, at least you weren’t Cray.” She chuckled. “Now that might’ve been rough.”

  “Indeed.” He met her smile, glad he’d had fewer lasses than his cousin, to be sure. “Even so, had I known—”

  She put a finger to his lips. “It doesn’t matter anymore. This,” she gestured between them, “this is what matters now...or so I hope.”

  “How can ye even question it?” His brogue thickened with emotion. “After what we felt...then saw?”

  Because he knew she had felt just as strong as him when they lay together.

  “I just fear, is all.” She released a shaky breath. “I suppose when you exist within a curse for as long as I have, and things suddenly seem too good to be true...”

  When she trailed off, he wrapped her more securely in his arms and tried to make her feel safer. Offer comfort. Give her a sense that this wasn’t fleeting. It would not be taken away from her. Not as long as he had a heart still beating in his chest.

  “We’ll get through this, lass.” He was never more certain. They had to. “That we finally remembered meeting in that life just shows we’re on the right path.” He tilted her chin until her eyes were with his. “You ken that, aye? Now that we’ve witnessed such, ‘tis only a matter of time before we learn what ultimately happened and your ring shines?”

  “Then we’ll be free of the curse,” she whispered.

  “Aye, free to finally be together the way we should have been from the beginning.” Though tempted to kiss her, he knew where that would lead, and she needed time to heal before he made love to her again. “Free to finally live a life together.”

  Because if he knew nothing else from the brief memory they’d just shared, they had fallen deeply in love. And they had wanted a life together even if hers was far shorter than his.

  “It would’ve been too,” she murmured, following his thoughts. “Because I'm fairly certain druids aren’t immortal.”

  Something they continued speculating on and was confirmed when they eventually joined everyone except Madison and Cray, who had been up all night frolicking. Grant and Adlin were both present this time, as though they sensed something monumental had happened. But then between Leviathan appearing the night before and what Ethyn and Ciara had finally done, he supposed it had.

  The rain had stopped, but it was damp and cooler than usual as they broke their fast.

  “Good morning, you two.” Chloe grinned gaily. Her knowing gaze flickered between them as she offered food. “Sleep well?”

  Aidan shook his head and grinned at her. “Subtle, lass.”

  “Was I that loud then?” Ciara said into Ethyn's mind, her cheeks rosy. “I guess I didn’t give much thought to...things.”

  “Nor should you have.” He squeezed her hand and spoke aloud. “I think Chloe is referring to your general appearance.”

  Her hand subconsciously went to her hair. “Appearance?”

  “You’re glowing, sweetie,” Madison said on a yawn, as she and Cray joined everyone. She winked at Ciara. “That’s what they mean.”

  “’Tis beside the point,” Adlin cut in, looking at Ciara kindly. With respect, actually. “’Tis a great honor to have your soul amongst us, Druidess. A great honor to me personally that you were part of my creation.” His gaze flickered from Ethyn back to her. “That both of you were.”

  “I can only hope I contributed something good, not...”

  When Ciara trailed off, distressed, Grant made it clear how strongly he felt.

  “You should ken, lass, that a Woodland Druidess is verra rare and precious,” he revealed. “That a unicorn of all creatures brought you together with a Fianna warrior is unheard of and verra telling.” He nodded once. “’Tis purposeful indeed.”

  “Not blasphemous, then?” Marek said softly, clearly disgruntled that he’d said such yet continued. “If the folklore is true, is not such a druidess meant to remain virginal?”

  “What folklore?” Adlin said, just as softly. His gaze narrowed on Marek. He undoubtedly noted the strange bite to his nephew’s tone. “For, as you well know, our knowledge about such a druidess is sporadic at best. In fact, up until now, I thought such a priestess might even be mythological.”

  “As did we all,” Cray rumbled, clearly uneasy. He eyed Marek then sat beside him, almost as if he worried he might have to physically defend him. An instinct, as it happened, that wasn’t far off.

  “’Tis well known,” Marek said darkly, his eyes a bit off as his gaze landed on Ciara, “the Woodland Druidess is at her most powerful when virginal.”

  When Ethyn withdrew the Viking sword, Cray unsheathed his blade as well and narrowed his eyes. “Ye’ll want to take care with that sword, cousin.” His uneasy gaze flickered to Marek. “Are ye well, brother? For ye dinnae seem quite yerself.”

  “I am.” Marek rolled his shoulders as if shrugging something off, his demeanor suddenly back to normal. Yet based on the fire in his eyes and what he said next, his inner dragon sensed he had been off. Dead serious, he looked at Cray. “If such happens again, ye are to defend Ciara and Ethyn.” He shook his head. “Not me.” His look grew sterner. “Do ye ken, brother? Them, not me.”

  “I willnae use my blade against ye,” Cray began, but Marek cut him off.

  “Ye’ll use it if I say ye’ll use it.” His dragon eyes flared brighter. “Ye ken? I’ll not ask again.”

  “Aye, I ken,” Cray grumbled, not happy about it.

  “What just happened, Marek?” Adlin asked, concerned. “What did you sense of yourself? Because you did sense something, aye? Mayhap the Brotherhood trying to possess you?”

  “Mayhap.” Though Marek’s inner dragon was clearly disgruntled, the chieftain in him saw things with a more level mind. “Whatever it was, ‘twas dark.” His gaze settled on Ciara. “And ‘twas after you and you alone.”

  Though no one mentioned it, Ethyn knew everyone was alarmed that Marek had seemingly shaken off a possible possession so quickly. Effortlessly. Ethyn glanced from Cray to Marek, glad the MacLeod laird had the good sense to put his brother between him and Ciara. For Marek was the strongest fighter of them all.

  “Or I was,” Marek said softly, following Ethyn’s thoughts. His cousin met his eyes, still deadly serious, his brogue thick with angst. “So now I tell ye as well, Fianna warrior. Dinnae hesitate to put yerself betwixt yer druidess and me.” He shook his head, his gaze turbulent. “Dinnae hesitate to end me if ye must.”

  Though the thought of it saddened him, he nodded, equally serious. “Dinnae doubt for a moment, I will.”

  Ciara would always come first. He would do anything to protect her. He knew that like he knew how to walk. Talk. Breathe.

  Relief flashed in Marek’s eyes before his gaze swept over everyone else. “The same goes for all of you when the time comes.”

  Ciara’s heart was in her eyes as she looked at Marek. “You mean if the time comes.”

  For a moment, she wasn’t herself but someone else entirely.

  So said the shocking words that came out of her mouth next.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “FOR EVEN THE darkest of souls can be saved?” Cray frowned at Ciara. “What does that mean? My brother’s soul isnae dark.”

  “At least not in this life,” Grant murmured, considering first Marek then Ciara. “What else did you just sense, lass? Because I know you’ve returned to normal.”

  She had, too. One moment she’d felt off, certain of something when it came to Marek. The next, everything was just as it had been.

  “I felt like I wanted to save him,” she replied to Grant. “Like all wasn’t lost.” She shook her head. “It wasn't the druidess' sentiments but someone else's. Maybe a fellow Broun's.”

  “The Brotherhood’s playing tricks with their minds, then?” Cray theorized, glancing at the transparent wizards.

  “’Tis hard to know.” Adlin considered Ciara, Ethyn, and Marek. “Wh
at does seem apparent is that you three have crossed paths. Your destinies are intertwined.”

  “Aye.” Marek nodded and stood. “On that, we agree.”

  Clearly upset, he strode off without saying another word.

  “’Tis never a good thing when another takes over a dragon’s mind,” Cray muttered. “So, I truly hope ‘twas not the Brotherhood.”

  “It wasn’t.” Ciara was convinced of it. “Marek’s just...getting ready to face something.” How else to explain it? “Once he does, hopefully he’ll be able to find his way back to himself.”

  “You sound sure of that,” Grant said.

  “I am.” She shook her head. “And I have no idea why.”

  “You will eventually,” Adlin assured. “Have no doubt about that.”

  “Aye, for you two are well on your way to understanding...” That’s all Grant got out before a gust of wind whipped through him, and he was gone. Adlin, however, thanks to his improved astral projection abilities, and wee Ceann’s proximity, remained and finished his sentence. “You’re well on your way to understanding one of the final pieces to this grand puzzle we’re all a part of.”

  “Thank God for that.” Julie smiled warmly at Ciara and Ethyn. “Like all of us, you’re uncovering some incredible truths.”

  “Are we ever,” Ciara agreed, still pondering everything later that day as they made their way toward Berwick-Upon-Tweed. The day had brightened some and with it her overall mood. Somewhat, anyway. While she’d woken that morning dreamy and enlightened, their interaction with Marek left her more uneasy than she let on.

  Yet Ethyn knew and said as much. “’Twill do you no good to let it eat at you, Ciara.” As he'd been doing on and off all day as they rode, he not only massaged her troubled leg but wrapped his arm more securely around her. A subconscious means to keep her as close as possible. “If there is nothing else I’ve learned from everyone’s adventures, ‘tis that all truths will reveal themselves in good time.”