The MacLomain Series: Later Years - a Scottish Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

by Sky Purington

  “Kinda hard to know with you holding me up but I’d say yeah.”

  Rònan stepped back but held her arms until he was sure. Then, like Darach, he embraced the man who evidently brought her here. “Bloody hell, I wasnae sure I’d ever see ye again, Cullen Stewart.”

  Erin frowned. How did Rònan know this guy? A man who had haunted her worst nightmare?

  “Somebody needs to tell me what the hell’s going on,” she said, not overly concerned about breaking up their reunion. Only when she caught Tait eying her outfit did she realize her clothing wasn’t exactly what it should be. No wonder the pocket was so low. Her eyes shot to Rònan. “Care to share why I’m wearing your shirt?”

  He merely shrugged. Though he worked at a sheepish expression, it came off more smug and territorial than anything else when he glanced at Tait then her. “I know you prefer to sleep in clothing and ‘twas the closest thing available after you drifted off.”

  “I never told you I like to sleep in clothes.”

  He tapped his temple. “Nay, you thought it.”

  “Right,” she muttered, not particularly in the mood to thank him as she rolled up the way-too-long sleeves. “Well, it fits like a damn potato sack.”

  “We’ll get you a change of clothes when we get to my castle,” Cullen assured.

  Rònan grabbed a satchel off of Tosha. “No need. I brought clothing for her.”

  Erin nodded absently, eyes narrowed on Cullen. “I’m not going anywhere with you until I get some answers.” Though tempted to run as far from him as possible, she was no coward. “I wanna know exactly who you are and why you were there on the worst night of my life.” Then her eyes went to Treasa. “And I haven’t forgotten that comment about divine intervention. You better get explaining that as well.”

  Treasa nodded. “You got it.”

  Erin wondered at the strange bite to her accent. Sort of half medieval, half modern day Scottish.

  “Go change in the cave, Erin, then the rest of us will join you so that you might get the answers you seek,” Cullen said. “Though we’re on my land, trouble is always afoot.”

  Rònan nodded, took her hand and led her into a small cavern she wouldn’t have guessed was there based on the thick shrubbery in front of it. She was never more relieved when he pulled out pants, a tunic more suited to her size and boots.

  “I’m really glad you didn’t bring a dress,” Erin commented as she grabbed her lighter and pulled off his tunic. She was startled to feel a little reluctant before she tossed it to him. She’d never worn a man’s shirt before. Though it was ridiculously large, it smelled like him, and that totally worked for her.

  Not only did her thoughts turn him on but his eyes were back to doing that slow walk down her body they were so good at. There was no stopping her own arousal as she recalled what they’d done earlier. How unbelievably good the sex was...the passion. The sweet sting left between her thighs soon became a raging almost painful burn of desire.

  Their eyes locked and she almost growled at the blatant want in his eyes. Yet she was fast learning that when he brought out the growl in her, it meant their dragons were taking hold. Right now there was no time for that. So she was quick about yanking on the pants and shirt, well aware that he had shifted closer.

  “Those are some naughty thoughts you’re having,” Erin murmured as she sat and pulled on a boot. She was about to put on the other when he crouched in front of her and took it.

  “Allow me,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes as he took his time loosening the strings with one hand while caressing her foot with the other. “What’re you doing, Rònan?”

  His eyes were a smidge too innocent when they met hers. “Helping you with your boot.”

  “I’ve been putting on my own shoes for a long time,” she said. “Pretty sure I can handle it now.”

  But this had nothing to do with her shoes, and they both knew it.

  “I thought I lost you back there,” he said softly and squeezed her foot gently. “’Twas an indescribable feeling, lass.”

  Her heartbeat kicked up a few notches at the look in his eyes, at the tone of his voice. Flashes of his thoughts arose. How serious he seemed to be getting about her.

  “I told you this can’t be a forever thing.” She shook her head, not entirely sure if she was shaking it at him or at her own words. “I made that real clear.”

  Rònan held her gaze for a long moment, and though she knew he had a lot to say about it, he instead slid on her boot and laced it up. “’Tis best for now that you get the answers you seek from Cullen.”

  Erin clenched her jaw when her skin heated with emotion. Though desire was always there, this had to do with something else entirely. Had she wanted him to be more persuasive here and now? Did she somewhere way in the back of her mind want to stay with him?

  He cupped her cheek, evidently understanding her feelings better than she did at the moment. “We’ll speak more of this later, Erin.”

  “Nothing to talk about,” she muttered under her breath as he headed for the entrance to call in the others.

  Her Viking posse stood guard at the entrance as everybody else sat on various rocks, and Rònan joined her. While she typically preferred to face things alone, she was grateful for the supportive hand he slipped into hers.

  Cullen sat across from her with Treasa by his side. They were the sort of striking couple she imagined Darach and Jackie would make if they hooked up. Cullen with his rich dark hair and Treasa with her pale blond locks.

  “As you heard outside, my name is Cullen Stewart,” he began, his eyes firmly on Erin. “My sister is Brae Stewart.”

  No shit. “That’s why she looked so familiar.” Her eyes widened as the truth slapped her in the face. “She’s your twin!”

  “Aye.” Cullen nodded. “I dinnae know how much you’ve been told, but she murdered me in battle many years ago. When she did, I became an angel but ended up embracing evil so that I might better defeat her. Unfortunately, it didnae go as well as I’d hoped and I was banned to the twenty-first century by the Celtic god, Fionn Mac Cumhail.”

  An angel? That explained the whole divine intervention thing. But what was an angel doing in her worst nightmare? While beyond uncomfortable sharing that frightful day with anyone, it looked like she didn’t have much choice.

  “So why are you back here and not in the twenty-first century then?” Erin frowned. “And again, why were you there...that night? Because you definitely didn’t seem angelic.”

  “’Twas a truly difficult night,” Cullen said softly. “And anything divine would have only seemed sinister in your state.”

  Erin’s throat started to thicken. “It was...you were...”

  Cullen’s eyes stayed on hers, and she swore a faint glow came from them. “You didnae kill your father, lass,” he said softly. “’Twas never you that ignited the hay nor was it the lighter he always flicked on and off. ‘Twas the evil demi-god now seeking you.”

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered, only faintly aware of Rònan shifting closer and squeezing her hand. “How can you be sure? I saw the...it...through the flames...flames that started when I arrived...”

  “I can be sure because I was there, Erin. There to save you from him,” Cullen said. “The man you saw in the Celtic Otherworld. He who means to keep you every bit as much as he tried with your friends and will likely try with Jackie.”

  She didn’t have to glance at Darach to know he tensed.

  “It was this dark laird who lit the hay on fire. He made sure your father was trapped inside,” Cullen said. “It was also him that made sure you saw a dragon that night. Something that became a part of your worst nightmare.”

  Erin’s throat was so clogged with emotion that speaking was impossible. Long repressed memories screamed through her mind. Her dad roaring at her to take her horse and get out of the barn. But the fire was everywhere. Its flames alive with faces. The man from the Otherworld and Cullen. For the past thir
teen years, she’d been convinced they were part of an illusion she created to cope with what she had done.

  Because fire always followed her. It was something she could ignite with a mere thought.

  Something she kept secret from the world.

  Rònan’s arm snaked around her lower back, a solid wall of support when his pained eyes met hers. He knew now. All of it. Somehow she had been strong enough to block it but no more.

  “That’s why you flick the lighter,” he whispered into her mind. “To make sense of things. To keep everything normal. Something you could do with the flick of your finger rather than with your mind. ‘Twas also a connection with your Da after he died. A way to let him know you didnae blame him if he had mistakenly lit the fire.” She felt his sadness for her. “And ‘tis why you dinnae like tight spaces. Because of your Da being trapped and the suffocating feeling you sensed from him.”

  Erin nodded once but offered no response as she tried to pull herself together. She survived, but the barn had burned to the ground and took her dad with it.

  She was unaware a tear slid down her cheek until Rònan brushed it away and shook his head. “It was never your fault any more than it was his, lass. Now you know the truth.”

  Determined to get a grip, she cleared her throat and returned her attention to Cullen. “Why did the bad guy want me to see a dragon? And how were you there?”

  “After I reconnected with Treasa in the twenty-first century, God gave me back my wings,” he said. “And with them came extra knowledge. Information I assume given to me because of the great love Grant Hamilton and his former patriarch Adlin have for Him. I dinnae think God was entirely pleased that one of the Celtic gods had grown so dark. Not only that, I know my Father has a great deal of love for this country.”

  “Exactly what information were you given?” Erin said.

  “That you deserved a fighting chance,” Cullen said. “After all, the bad guy meant to take you that night. Had he, none of this would have happened. The MacLomains would’ve already been defeated, the wee Bruce taken and Scotland’s future entirely different. A future that would have ended in a demise far worse than what this country already faces. ‘Tis always best in any possible scenario that Robert the Bruce become king and leads Scotland in the direction it must go.”

  “So when you went to the future it wasn’t 2015 but 2001?” Erin said. “Because I was only fourteen when this happened.”

  “Nay, I was in the year 2015 originally,” Cullen said. “But once I got my wings time-travel became possible again. Soon after, Treasa and I were able to come home.”

  “Your parents must be glad to see you,” Darach said.

  “Not yet,” Treasa said softly as her hand wrapped with Cullen’s. “We only just arrived. And we’ve been away for far too long.”

  “What happened back at my castle?” Rònan asked Cullen. “Why did you take Erin back in time?” He frowned. “Why did you not speak with me first?”

  “My apologies, Laird MacLeod...Rònan,” Cullen said, respect in his voice. “I didnae mean to frighten you like that. Whoever this evil is, he knows I’m tracking him. Though ‘twas years ago for Erin, the battle we waged at her barn only happened for us recently. He knows she is half dragon and is using that to get to her.”

  So she had not defeated the monster after all. She saw the flicker of distress that passed between Rònan and Darach.

  “If the dark Laird was able to go to the future and affect Erin’s fate, why did he not do the same with her friends?” Darach asked, his voice growing cautious. “The Broun lasses?”

  There was an odd flicker in Cullen’s eyes when they met Darach’s. “I cannae speak toward the lives of her friends as I was only given leave to watch over Erin. Since they all lived normal lives and now wear a ring, I’m inclined to think ‘twas the dragon blood that somehow allowed him to track Erin and not the others.”

  “Which means he’s tracking our Viking blood,” Rònan murmured.

  “Aye,” Cullen said. “’Twould seem so. Though your enemy is Celtic, he has a connection of some sort with the Norse as well.”

  Erin shook her head, baffled by all of this. Yet right now she needed to focus on that awful night from her childhood. So she cut into the conversation.

  “There’s something about that night that makes no sense.” She was able to set aside her sadness as her anger grew. “Because of him, I hated and feared dragons. How is that something to use against me?”

  “Would it not be in his favor if you disliked dragons, even yourself when you discovered you were one?” Cullen said. “I think he hoped you would dislike them so much that you would flee to him. That you would see him as human and normal despite how verra inhuman he is.” He cocked a brow. “When you were in the Otherworld, did you not for a moment fall beneath his allurement? His dark beauty?”

  “Yes,” she said, angrier by the moment that she was nearly duped. “But I’m still unclear about something. Why is it that he, the evil one, drew me when you, the good one, infuriated me?”

  Cullen eyed her for several moments. “Do you really want to know?”

  Something about the way he was looking at her simultaneously put her on edge and at peace. “I do.”

  He contemplated her for far too long before he nodded. Though again tempted to run in the opposite direction, she held her ground as Cullen approached. His eyes went to Rònan. “Might I take her hand, Laird MacLeod?”

  Irritated, she answered for Rònan. “Sorry, but shouldn’t you be asking me that?”

  “He means no disrespect, lass,” Rònan said into her mind. “He intends to show you something truly difficult.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact he should be asking me,” she replied.

  “’Tis just his way of respecting us.”

  “There is no ‘us’ but ‘me.’” Erin was sorry the minute she said it, but she was used to standing on her own two feet. And he needed to understand that lust and love were two separate things. Lust didn’t equal ‘us’ and love...well, that wasn’t part of her vocabulary.

  Despite her words, he squeezed her waist and nodded at Cullen. “Please dinnae speak to me but my lass.”

  “Your lass?” she said but not nearly as sharply as she could have. “You’re pushing it.”

  Rònan gave no response as Cullen’s attention focused on her and he held out his hand. “Will you take my hand, Erin?”

  Would she? Should she? What was he going to show her? Erin eyed him, debating. He scared her far more than the dark laird. But again, what good would running do? She needed to face this...whatever it was.

  So she took his hand.

  Instant warmth filled her that had nothing to do with dragon blood. No, it had to do with something far different. Her eyes widened as huge white wings spread out from Cullen’s shoulder blades and not only his eyes but his skin started glowing.

  “I will show you something that I made sure you forgot,” he murmured.

  “Holy crap,” she whispered as her surroundings started to turn white.

  Then fiery red.

  Only vaguely aware of Rònan’s arm keeping a firm hold, she was suddenly in her teenage body living out the final moments of that horrific night again. The barn was inflamed, but the faces and the dragon were gone. She stood outside, shaking and terrified. Erin had tried to go back in, but the fire had ravaged the place. There was no way her dad had lived. Only she and her horse had made it.

  “Oh, God,” she cried and fell to her knees. She tore her eyes from the flames and looked upward, trying to search out the divinity she had always believed in. “Why have you done this?” Erin squeezed her eyes shut and realized she was blaming the wrong person. Somehow she’d been responsible for this. Whether she had lit the fire with an errant thought or was never convincing enough when she tried to get her dad to quit flicking that damn lighter.

  Either way, she was responsible.

  Nobody else.

  Tears blurred her vision so
much it took several blinks before she realized someone was walking out of the barn. No, not one person but two.

  It couldn’t be.

  She blinked a few more times and stumbled to her feet. “Dad?”

  “I have to go now, Angel,” he said softly.

  “Why?” She tried to run to him but couldn’t seem to move her feet. “You’re alive! You don’t need to go anywhere.”

  Her words sounded odd even to herself. As though unconsciously she knew he did.

  He offered no response as he looked at her with love. Her eyes shot to the man by his side. Tall, dark and handsome, he had been one of the faces in the fire. Fury rose, and she shook her head. “Don’t you take him from me!”

  “You make sure you sing, Erin,” her dad said. “Live your dream.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “No, Dad, don’t go!”

  But it was too late. The dark haired man spread his white wings and wrapped them around her father moments before a white light shot toward the sky and they both vanished.

  “No!” she screamed and leapt toward him only to find herself no longer in her memories but in Rònan’s arms. The barn had vanished. It was quiet, and she was in a medieval Scottish cave. Cullen no longer had wings but knelt on one knee with his head bent.

  “It was you.” Her eyebrows slammed together, and she tried to lunge at him, but Rònan made it impossible. Erin shook her head, eyes narrowed on Cullen, voice lethal. “You took my dad from me.”

  Cullen remained silent with his head lowered.

  Why was he doing that? Submission? Regret? What?

  “He honors you.” Rònan held her tighter when she tried to move. “And he honors your father’s passing. ‘Twas he who made sure your Da made it safely to Heaven. And ‘twas he that kept you safe from the dark demi-god until now.”

  She shook her head, overwhelmed. “Heaven,” she whispered. “I don’t believe in any kind of Heaven.”

  “Mayhap not now,” Rònan said softly. “But you once did, lass.”

  Had she? Did she? Maybe once upon a time but after that fire no more. Yet as she replayed the events of that night in her head, other memories from earlier in her life resurfaced. Her father and her praying for her mom’s soul...that she might be in peace wherever she was. While they weren’t overly religious, they always murmured a prayer before dinner and Dad wore a cross until the day he...died.