Ava’s bones started to thrum, like a singing bowl inside her. “This way,” she ran to the right. The darkness only got worse the further they went in. Adam’s sword was out, guarding Ava, as they ventured further into the black abyss. A shuffling sound came from ahead.
“Did you hear that?”
“Aye, it came from down there.”
They kept going until they hit a wall of bars. It was pitch black but their Sidhe eyes could still make out a body on the floor. Adam went over to the lump and rolled it over. “He’s breathing, but unconscious.” He picked up the body and they ran out of there as fast as they could.
Coming back into the great hall, they were anxious to get out of the rotten horrid hell pit. Devlin carried Rowan and Adam had the limp prisoner, while Ava brought up the rear. Ready to put this darkness behind them, they stepped into the black hole and out to the world of light. The woods smelled fresh and crisp in the morning autumn air. Ro’s breath blew out in chilly white wisps. Adam laid the body down on the ground as the rest gathered around him. Ava wiped the dirt and soot from the man’s face while he moaned something in Gaelic. Adam bent lower to hear him better as Devlin, having set Rowan down on a fallen tree, came around to his other side.
The man mumbled more words and then his eyes opened wide. Screaming at the brightness of day, the morning sun had blinded his eyes after being in the dark for so long. Ava quickly tried to shade his face and make it darker for him.
“Please! Please, listen to us. We are here to help you. You’re safe. Lorcan is dead.” There was no getting through to the man though. He just screamed and clawed at the air, desperately trying to fend off the sun and strangers. “Please, listen!” but Ava’s words fell on deaf ears.
She had to sooth him, make him quiet down. With this much screaming, other people within hearing distance may come running to help. There was no way to explain the state they were all in to a stranger. Ava steadied the terrified man with her little songbird trick she’d used before on Rowan. He eased his arms back to his sides, eyes barely slit open to look at her, and he finally quieted down.
“What is your name, love?” Ava grabbed his hand and started to stroke it soothingly.
“I am Ruark,” his voice was deep and gravelly, “Ruark MacCullum.”
All the color drained out of Devlin’s face; he looked like he was going to pass out. Adam looked down at the man on the ground, and now that it was lighter out, it was easier to see the prisoner’s features. Adam saw the resemblance even with the man as withered and broken as he was.
Rowan felt the strain of anxiety rolling off her husband and came closer to the injured man and her stone-faced Druid. “Devlin, do you know him?”
Now of all the shocks that were given today, none were quite as surprising as what she heard Devlin say next.
“Aye. He is my brother.”
Chapter 30
The world crashed down on Devlin in that moment. The man lying on the ground of leaves and dirt no longer looked like a man at all. He was skin and bones. No warrior ever looked like that; and especially not his older brother. Ruark had been one of the strongest and fiercest fighters in all of Scotland. A true legend in his day. He was a Druid, and a mighty good one at that. This man was a shell. A very broken, shattered shell. Rowan grabbed Devlin’s arm and sent him a wave of her own love and empathy. They shared a quick glance and then Devlin was on his knees, once again, picking up someone who was precious to him – another someone who he thought he’d never see again.
They walked out of the woods in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts of what had happened and what was to be done next. They piled into the car and headed back to Adam’s house. No one spoke while Ava kept up the songbird routine to keep Ruark in a more sedated state for the ride. They had no way of knowing how long he’d been a prisoner in there, but it was clear that it was long before cars and other modern day miracles were invented. They didn’t want to spook him and have him die of shock now that he’d finally gained his freedom.
Pulling up to Adam’s home, the horses whinnied happily in greeting and pranced up the side of their fence. Parking the car in the garage, they got out and Adam and Devlin got the sleeping Ruark out of the back seat. He’d been sandwiched between Ava and Rowan while they took turns holding his head and stroking his arms to keep his sleeping body calm. Torn between the two, Adam made Devlin’s decision for him by helping Rowan into the house so that Devlin could carry his withered brother.
He carried Ruark into one of the spare bedrooms and quickly closed all curtains and shades. It wasn’t pitch black in the room, but at least the sun wasn’t shining brightly either. Devlin could do nothing but stare at the crumpled figure he’d laid in the bed. His gut was twisted up.
Devlin realized that when he left Scotland with Adam, he never looked back; he’d changed his name, his home, and his life. He’d gone all these years thinking Ruark was dead. Presumed he’d died in battle, since the Highlander never returned home; aye, for truth, Devlin never heard his brother’s name uttered, or a battle story told that mentioned Ruark. Death was the only possible answer for such silence. It was hard to kill a Druid, double hard to kill a skilled warrior like Ruark, but not impossible. The fact that he was indeed alive was a blessing.
Devlin was beyond happy to have his brother back, but worried as well. It was obvious Ruark had been tortured and broken many times over. Some things the body can survive, others, the mind cannot. Devlin sent up a prayer to the Gods that if they saw fit to have him last this long, it was not for nothing and promised to be patient and help him in any way he could. Please heal him, Devlin prayed and he walked out of the room with a heavy heart.
Coming back out to the living room, he saw his wife sitting on the sofa looking pale and exhausted. Ava was wrapping some of her wounds that were not fully healed and still tender. Rowan may be part Fae, but she was still part human too. Her injuries were no longer life threatening, thanks to the work of the spirits, but she was still weak for losing so much blood and lost a lot of valuable energy in her attempt to save them all.
Devlin came to her side and sat on the arm of the couch. The large piece of furniture creaked in protest, but didn’t crumble under the pressure. He carefully ran his hand down the side of her cheek. Her face was bruised and stained with blood, her hair knotted and matted, she looked like hell. But Devlin saw none of it. All he could see was her beauty, her strength and her honor. She was magnificent. Powerful. Alive.
Thank Danu, she survived this day. For truth, Devlin would have soon slit his own throat to join her in the beyond without a second thought. He won’t be walking on this earth one day without Rowan beside him. Love flooded every other thought and emotion he had and washed over Rowan as she smiled at him. Her lip was split and she winced, but didn’t care. She was grateful. She was safe and with the man she loved. Nothing gets better than that.
Blood welled up on her bottom lip she kept accidently re-splitting and she swiped her tongue over it without thinking. A growl sounded low in her husband’s throat and that made her eyes flare green fire. Devlin picked her up like small china doll and headed into the back bedroom that was theirs and started running the bath for her.
Rowan tried not to look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t want to see how bad she looked. She also didn’t want to get into the bath a bloody wreck either. She kept her head down, avoiding the mirror, and ran water in the sink to try and splash off as much of the guck as she could.
Her face hurt, but her arms hurt more. Bright red gashes were everywhere on her. She thought she looked like a piece of cheese that met a grater. Her injuries were already so much better than they were in the black hole. Thankful for the extra boost in healing powers from her Fae-side and the spirits, Rowan was so grateful for everything she had. Her gifts, her power, her husband, her life. The list of thankfuls could have gone on forever.
Devlin quietly came up behind her and gently helped Ro out of her clot
hes. Knives still attached to her wrists and waist, they were the first to come off. Her trusty blade was next to go to the floor. He peeled her shredded shirt off her torso in a swift tug over her head. She winced, but didn’t make a peep. His feisty wee sprite was still trying to be brave.
The boots and pants came off next and she stood shivering before him even though she wasn’t cold. Naked and vulnerable, she felt safe and nervous at the same time. Her mind raced with thoughts, questions, flashes of the night before as Devlin bent down to kiss her softly. He kissed her whole face, one inch at a time and cooed sweet words in her ear.
Lifting her up carefully, he lowered her down into the prepared tub that steamed with the scent of lavender oil. They didn’t speak for several minutes. Devlin slowly washed her hair and gently cleaned the rest of her body. With every quiet minute that passed, the water stayed warm but Rowan’s shaking wouldn’t stop. He finished cleaning her up and then got her out of the tub. Wrapping her in plush towels, he carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed.
She felt different to him now, like something shifted in her, or changed somehow; he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she was definitely altered.
“I didn’t mean it. You have to believe I would never want you to suffer.” She blurted that statement out. Rowan’s guilt was thick in the air like the steam from her hot bath had been.
“What do ye mean lass?” Devlin was treading lightly here. He’d been in unchartered Rowan territory before. The woman could lash out like a cobra when provoked.
“When I told Lorcan to make you watch and suffer. I said it because I knew it would make him happy. He’d believe me. He’d turn his focus away from you and you would be safe. I was ruthless and cruel… like him.”
Aye, he remembered it well, but she was not to blame for that moment. He said as much but she just shook her head.
“I saw your death, Devlin. I dreamt it. If you were the one to have been sliced in half… I… I wasn’t willing to risk it. I’d have stayed with Lorcan if I had to. I would have done anything to see you safe. Alive.”
What she said was the truth, but Rowan was so glad that her ruse had worked. God help her if things had turned out differently in that bedchamber. But she meant her words. She’d do anything for Devlin, including the unthinkable.
He didn’t speak for a few heartbeats. Combing her hair, he focused on each stroke of his hand while he chose his next words carefully. “When ye shut me out, I panicked for a moment. I thought… well, it doesna matter what I thought… I was wrong. Ye did what ye had to Rowan.”
That was no lie but a very painful truth. She’d tricked them both in that moment. Made Devlin believe she didn’t love him, and had Lorcan wrapped around her every word. All Devlin could think of was, if her plan hadn’t worked… well, Gods help them both if it had been different.
Rowan let out a shudder and started crying. She wanted to tell him about the other part, the part that she’d locked in her box, the part that had shut him out when they were inside that place. She wanted to tell him that her hunger for power almost consumed her desire for anything else. But she didn’t. She’d stayed strong in that hell pit, and she’d stay strong out of it too.
She was exhausted and fragile and in desperate need of something. That something came in the form of warm strong hands that caressed her back and pulled her in close to an equally warm and strong body.
“I felt you. I felt your pull even when I was numb to everything else. You saved me, Devlin. In so many ways, you’ve saved me.”
“Then we’ve saved each other lass. I promised I wouldna let ye go. And I never will. I love ye woman. I love ye so much it hurts to breathe.”
She twisted her body, wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his crook of his neck and held on for dear life. She sunk into him and let it all go. He ran his fingers through her long, wet hair and they stayed like that until her tears subsided and she calmed down.
“Did you think I didn’t love you, or did you think he had control of me?” She asked it quietly, both for her own temper to remain in check and for him to have a chance to consider his response with care. She’d not deal well with his answer if it was yes to either question.
“Och, neither lass. I ken your heart and your strength. He wouldna be able to control ye any longer, I was sure of it. I was more scared when I saw your face as ye run him through. Ye were hellfire, woman. I thought the battle rush and bloodlust had taken ye over your limit and ye may no longer recognize friend from foe. But I was wrong. Something in ye snapped Rowan, I could see it, sense it, but I couldna figure out what it was. I was so distracted watching ye, full of fire and glory, I had no idea what was going on with Lorcan. When I heard the snaps and cracks it didna register what was happening until ye screamed for me to run.”
He grabbed her tight and kissed her head, and then it was his turn to bury his face in her neck. Her hair smelled like rosemary and skin like lavender and it smelled like home to him. “Even in the end, your last concern was for me. I dinna understand it lass. I have no idea why the Gods gave me such a precious gift. What have I ever done to deserve ye?”
Rowan pulled away from his chest and smiled brightly at him. “Because we are the perfect match.” She loved him and he loved her. Life can be that simple and that wonderful. “We’re peanut butter and jelly. Toast and tea. Meat and potatoes.” She was striving for funny and tried to get him to smile but he was still stone-faced.
She tried harder.
“No good? How about flower and honey bee? Salty and sweet?” Now she was up on her knees, inching closer to his face. “Sugar and spice? Whiskey and ice?” She kissed him softly, running her fingers through his hair.
Unfortunately Devlin was not as clean as she was. His hair was tangled and there was something sticky in it. Eww. She didn’t stop kissing him, but did start coaxing him off the bed and out of his torn, stained clothes. Pulling him into the bathroom, she started the shower, never once letting go of the hold she had on him. Kissing was hard, but not impossible to do, when you have to work a double faucet in the shower at the same time. Good thing Rowan was good at multi-tasking. Her own towel had dropped to the floor and she led him into the shower.
“What are ye doing lass?” His voice low and hushed, Devlin followed her like a lost puppy dog.
“I’m returning the favor, Druid.” She smiled wickedly at him and he growled in response.
They made love in the shower until the water was cold and their bodies were spent. By the end, her wounds were almost completely healed and only a few red lines remained. She’d done a month’s worth of healing in one shower.
Love is powerful healing magic.
Devlin carried Rowan back to the bed, although she was perfectly capable of walking herself. His excuse was that he liked having her in his arms, and she let him carry her for the same reason. After making her comfortable in bed, Devlin went out to make her something to eat and promised her room service. It was in the middle of the day and the birds were chirping, squirrels barking and horses whinnying outside.
It was Halloween and the air felt electrified. Or maybe that was just Rowan’s after sex glow. Or maybe it was knowing that the bad guy was dead and gone. She wasn’t sure at this point. It all felt so damn good. She curled up in the bed and waited for her room service when she heard a howl out the window.
Rowan pulled a blanket around her body and got up to look outside. There was the black dog, waiting on the front lawn like he was expecting a treat. Not hesitating, Rowan pulled on one of Devlin’s t-shirts and her old pants. Before leaving the room she grabbed the Beagalltach and went outside. Boy, this day just doesn’t end.
Signaling her husband and Adam, the two men grabbed their swords and followed her outside, but she held her hand out for them to stay back on the front lawn. “Wait! Let me go alone.”
The men didn’t like it, but knew better than to not listen when she spoke with that tone of he
rs. Rowan slowly walked up to the dog and held her hand out for it to smell. A slight growl sounded from his curled lips, but Rowan didn’t back down or retreat. Part of her wondered what she would do if the damn mutt bit her. But she knew that was not going to happen. Rowan stood her ground and stared the beast in the eyes. Keeping her hand out, the dog quieted and then nuzzled her palm with his nose and wagged his tail.
“Where are you? I know you’re here somewhere.” Rowan searched the sky for the big winged dragon to descend but heard no screeches in answer. She did, however, hear footsteps on crunchy leaves. Turning her head to the left, out from the woods came the beast that crashed her wedding.
“You did well, Rowan.”
Ro straightened up and walked over to the creature. He wasn’t the small thing he’d been on her bed, he was the larger beast from her wedding. Same eyes though. Same teeth too. But she wasn’t afraid anymore. Too tired, too numb, or too stupid – it didn’t matter. Rowan stopped in front of him and held out the weapon. “I believe this is yours.” Her hands were already mourning the loss of the blade and she hadn’t even released it yet.
Shatter - Sins of the Sidhe Page 33
