by Kat Bastion
For she knew of the great treasure he’d hung there from a branch.
“Forgive me,” she murmured, then turned to leave him be.
“Nay.” Gawain glanced over his shoulder at her. “Stay a moment.”
“Verra weel.” Her heart went out to the brother she’d inadvertently wronged. To the child who’d hated her, that had struggled to embrace her existence all her life. To the warrior who’d only recently begun to come around and warm to her. In his own way.
She came up beside him.
He eased closer, till their shoulders nigh touched.
For long seconds of silence, they stood side by side before the tree.
And they stared up together at an ornate silver-and-gold pendant that hung from a high branch by a delicate silver chain. The necklace had belonged to their mother.
His shoulder nudged against hers. “I do forgive you.”
Her eyes pinched shut, holdin’ back tears. She swallowed past a cramp in her throat.
Then she exhaled a lifetime of relief. “I’m grateful for it.”
“Follow your heart,” he murmured.
“What?” Brigid stared at him, confused.
Gawain turned toward her, dark green eyes starin’ into hers. “The angel.”
“Skorpius.” She felt it important that her brother knew the angel’s name.
He gave her a nod. “Don’t waste your time here.”
“But…how do you…”
He snorted. “Everyone knows.”
“Oh.” The thunderous fight from the night before.
His hardened gaze searched hers. And a flash of recognition brightened his expression.
Then he repeated words spoken years ago to a wee lad and days ago from a protective sister, “Death and life, ’tis but a thin veil betwixt the two. Cherish those ye still have, whilst ye have them. Hold them dear.”
And love yer wee sister, Brigid remembered the hopeful advice she’d given. Tears welled in her eyes all over again.
“I do love you, wee sister.”
“Gawain, I…” A weight fell heavy upon her chest, and she found it difficult to draw breath.
Strong arms pulled her into a warm hug.
And the tears fell. Sobs wracked her body.
But Gawain dinna let her go. He only tightened his hold. Let her fall into the release she’d desperately needed.
Long seconds later, the torrent subsided. After a sniffle and a hiccup, she pulled back. Then she rested her head under his shoulder and stared back up at their mother’s glitterin’ pendant.
“Gawain? How did you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“Nay.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Speak no more of forgiveness. ’Tis been long granted. You’d done nothin’ but fight to survive. And you’ve lived with great happiness. You’ve brought joy to this clan.”
“But…” Brigid recalled a far different childhood. “You’d always shunned me, been cold.”
“Aye.” He sighed heavily. “A young lad’s pride and anger. But I’m older now. No longer the fool.”
She thought of her anger with Skorpius. About things that he’d felt he’d had no control over. “Mayhap fools are slow to forgive.”
But Brigid dinna want to be the fool. Not with another’s heart at risk.
“Aye.” Wise and older Gawain glanced down at her again. “Follow your heart.”
Chapter 47
The night after their kitchen blowout, a jarring pulse of power vibrated along the hearts’ bond that connected Skorpius to Brigid.
But when he flashed to her location, darkness filled the space.
Brigid slumbered in her bedchamber.
Yet in the next passing seconds, her brow furrowed, she whimpered, tossed to one side, turned to the other. Linens tangled around her legs in what was clearly a disturbed sleep.
The golden magick she’d been keeping a lid on in her waking hours had drifted outward. The shimmering fabric of her diaphanous gown fluttered away from her prone body in an unseen energy breeze that she discharged.
Brigid. He cast her a gentle call on the mental plane.
Seconds ticked by. Another restless turn followed. Breathing shallowed. Lips parted.
But no reply.
“Brigid.” He punched her name with power.
She gasped, then startled upright.
He remained right where he’d arrived, standing at the foot of her bed.
Copper spirals of hair tumbled about her shoulders. Silver eyes sparked with magick.
“Skorpius?” Doubt tinged her tone as she furrowed her brow.
“You…” He began an explanation, but a sudden flash of uncertainty gave him pause.
Would she welcome him?
Or were they in for another spectacular fight?
Sarcasm felt wrong. After what they’d been through, she deserved more: a softer approach.
And the truth. “Our hearts’ bond burst out to me. And I’d thought…it seemed…you’d needed…assistance.”
Awkwardness had never been a trait he’d possessed before.
Skorpius blamed the fractures in his heart.
And whatever “evolution” he’d succumbed to.
“Nay,” Brigid murmured, stepping from the bed. “I dinna need ‘assistance.’” Holding his gaze, she took measured steps toward him. “I need you.”
Brigid made no attempt to hide her shimmering magick. Instead, she flared her energy out, broadcasting to all the realms that the goddess was back. And more powerful than ever.
When he opened his mouth to speak, she placed a finger over his lips.
And they instantly transported to another realm.
Into the total darkness of his lair.
Then Brigid leaned up and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss began soft, tender. But soon ignited into a passionate storm, breaths shallowing, pulses quickening.
Their clothes disintegrated as the heat between them electrified.
Skin to skin, they crushed together in a tight embrace.
An eager whimper flared from her throat.
A primal growl tore from his.
And in the hidden dark corner of a realm that had created them both, two powerful beings cast different from their own worlds, found solace in one another’s arms.
When Skorpius wrapped the warmth of his arms and wings around her, Brigid shoved him against the cold stone wall.
And as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, he trailed frenzied kisses down the column of her neck.
While he got lost in her sweet exotic scent across her shoulder, then down between her breasts, she roved her hands across his abdomen, then down between his legs.
She gripped his arousal, then pulled hard.
He spun them around and hoisted her high.
And as they clung to one another in his private enclave of darkness, she fell, he thrust, and they crashed together in an explosive burst of energy.
But their simultaneous orgasm was only the beginning.
Magick burst forth from them, then circled back around and surged through them again, heightening their excitement, fueling their need. A glittering bluish black glow flared out from the surrounding rare-element stone surfaces: floor, walls, ceiling.
And as the angelic realm’s elemental magick wove together with her unique magick and his, unusual colors sizzled into existence. Rooted from a darker spectrum, blended hues of rich warm gold, deepest black blue, exotic burnished orange, and fiery scarlet sparked into their atmosphere.
Their movements slowed as the ecstasy heightened.
Skorpius backed off the wall, holding her tight, plunging so deep they were seared into one.
Brigid clutched and clung, arched and curved, wrapped tighter and rode harder, as she surged ever-increasing intoxicating power from her heart’s center to his.
The two of them climaxed again and again.
Their coupling was primitive and aggressive, beautiful and brilliant.
Mag
nificent. Skorpius kissed her tenderly, as they floated down from an extraordinary high, bodies calming, hearts warming. Just like you.
Brigid smiled against his lips. Magnificent like you.
Like us.
Aye. Perfect. Together. Us.
They collapsed down—onto a soft mass of black satin pillows and sheets manifested from their entwined imaginings—becoming a lazy satisfied heap of tangled arms and legs.
And for a silent span of moments, there they laid, basking in the bliss of their reunion.
Their sparking newly created magick drifted down, back into them, renewing their powers.
After a time, once breathing deepened and pulses steadied, Brigid splayed an open hand over his chest, nuzzled her face against his neck.
She placed a gentle kiss there, then exhaled. “I forgive you.”
Skorpius closed his eyes and exhaled a great sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
Then he made a private vow. Never again would anything come between them.
They were one in their quest. And if that meant the destruction of Brigid to save time?
Then they’d tumble into that abyss together as well.
Chapter 48
Totally spent and thoroughly charged all at once, Brigid pushed up from a mountain of shiny black pillows.
Skorpius leaned up on an elbow, starin’ at her with banked heat in his gaze.
She smiled at him. “What?”
“You look happy.”
“Aye.” For Brigid finally belonged. To Skorpius. And to the world. It had taken her to fully accept who she was—who’d she become—to arrive there. But in that moment, naught felt truer.
“Well, then. Get dressed.” He stood and manifested his leathers and boots back on. “We’ve got two errands to run.”
With a tinglin’ exhale, her golden gown flowed about her body. “Errands?”
“Would you like to meet Cass?” Skorpius offered her his hand.
Nervousness spiked through her. But then, she banished the feelin’ and slid her hand over his palm.
And they transported from the darkness of his lair into the brightness of the outer world.
Angelic mist swirled about in playful tendrils, flashin’ with tiny rainbows as the particles twirled. A great sparklin’ river meandered through white sandy banks. And on the rise through hills of fluff, stood an enormous crystalline tree with a massive clear trunk and a sprawlin’ chandelier of branches.
But as amazin’ at the incredible tree was, what had been suspended within it made her gasp.
Amidst faceted crystal leaves, perched on a wide bough that flattened toward the trunk, was a spectacular open-air treehouse. Glitterin’ latticework stretched up two sides. A solid wall of mist closed in the back. And the front stretched open to overlook their sparklin’ river.
Squeals of joy and tinklin’ laughter pierced the quiet space as two familiar wee ones charged off the front edge and leapt high into the air. Thick ropes of mist instantly formed within their reach. And as the children caught the misty vines, tendrils of mist wrapped around them and swung them safely to the ground.
“Connell! Gunna!” Brigid burst with happiness at the sight of them, hale and whole.
The children ran up to greet them, barefoot and in gauzy white linen tunics. Long blond locks bouncin’, cheeks pinked, smiles wide.
But wee Gunna paused before her, then curtsied. “Lady Brigid.”
Connell bowed low, then glanced at his sister. “Goddess Brighid.”
Brigid bent down and swept them both into her arms in a hug. Then she kissed each of their temples. “Brigid,” she corrected, “if you please.”
The children tore off toward the crystal tree’s trunk, then began climbing with unseen foot and handholds. “Watch us again, Brigid!” Connell called out.
Skorpius gestured an arm wide. “And this is my sister, Cass.”
A glorious angel with snowy white wings and pale blond hair stepped forward from the base of the tree. An imposin’ figure, to be certain. But Brigid felt no animosity from her.
Cass gave her a welcomin’ smile. “You must be the female who captured my brother’s heart.”
“Aye.” Brigid glanced at Skorpius, warmin’ at the truth of it. “And he mine.”
The white angel strode forward and tugged Brigid into a strong embrace. “Cherish him. None compare,” she murmured into her ear.
Brigid drew back, confident in that fact. “Agreed. And I do, and will, with all that I am.”
Cass gave her a hard nod. “Splendid.”
He stared at them both with an incredulous expression. “You know I can hear you.”
Brigid hardened her features. “If you prefer, we can reenact smashin’ kitchen fights.”
Skorpius enfolded Brigid into his arms. “Let’s save our fight for the real battles.” He gave a quick nod to Cass. “Speaking of, on to the next errand.”
“Well done, children!” Brigid called out as the two wee ones flew through the air to catch their thick misty ropes.
Then Skorpius and Brigid vanished.
Chapter 49
Skorpius brought Brigid straight to the archival map in the angelic realm.
Clasping her hand in his, he bent down and gave her a tender kiss. Then he touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.
Their time had ended.
The battleground awaited them.
“When your magick reached out to me—”
“Our hearts’ bond.”
“Yes. You were tossing in your sleep. A vision, perhaps?” He’d had a hunch.
She frowned. “Aye.” The same nightmare I’ve had everra night. Over and over.
“Did you see a place? Identify where to go?”
Her brow furrowed deeper. “Nay. And I’ve tried. I can feel the boy, Robert. He trembles. He’s cold. Hungry. Thirsty. And terrified.”
Skorpius turned her toward the inert wall of mist that hung before her. “Try now. This is a very special map. If you think of a place, stare, and visualize hard enough, the location you seek will appear and grow larger.”
“In truth?”
“Yes. If you concentrate hard enough. And if your envisioning supplies enough details.”
Brigid stared intently at the misty wall. There’s darkness, she thought toward him as she recalled the vision. Wet stones. A musty odor. And crystalline spires hangin’ from the ceiling.
No change manifested on the map. The mist remained placid.
Brigid sighed in frustration. “’Tis not obeyin’.”
Skorpius shifted to stand behind her. Strong hands rested upon her shoulders, slid down her arms, then folded over her belly to tuck her against his solid strength. The warmth of his breath fogged over her ear. “Close your eyes. Go back to your vision. Find your calm and become Robert.”
Slowing her breath, Brigid drifted her eyes closed. Seconds dragged on into minutes. But soon, the map began to respond. Skorpius waited until landmarks populated, rivers and lochs appeared, mountains stretched forth and shorelines expanded.
Open your eyes, Brigid.
“Och!” She pointed toward the expanding image of a cliff on the northwestern edge of the Highlands, above the ocean. “There! ’Tis the cave from my visions. Robert’s there!”
Skorpius stepped beside her. “Then, so is Merlin.”
Brigid shot him a hard look, passion and determination in her gaze. All or naught.
Do, or die trying, he added. Together.
Till the verra end.
Pride fired hot in his chest, sizzled across the hearts’ bond they shared.
That’s my warrior goddess.
That’s my darkest angel.
With a last glance at her target point, and no doubt the vision firmly in her mind, Brigid held out her hand to him, prepared to take the lead.
More than ready to follow her anywhere, he clasped her hand.
And they vanished.
Skorpius and Brigid materialized into the center o
f an enormous cavern.
Crystalline stalactites and stalagmites stretched from the floor and ceiling, connecting into glistening columns—eerie sentries to an underground realm.
Stagnant air hovered, moldy and oppressive.
Through the surrounding rock, moisture percolated in slow measure from the unseen world above. One drop at a time eventually fell in various shadowed recesses, their occasional pings echoing along the hard surfaces.
Brigid released his hand and strode forward, undaunted by the dark unknown.
While her attention drifted upward, she emanated a brighter golden light. The aura surrounded her, then expanded outward. And as particles of stale air began to glitter with the warmth of her essence, a freshness began to swirl through.
Skorpius coughed out a dry laugh. “Of course. You’re ionizing the air.”
She frowned. I canna feel Robert.
He’s here. He had to be. Search with me. Something’s bound to be familiar.
“What’re those markin’s?” She nodded up the farthest wall as she approached it.
Giant vertical lines scarred the rock walls. One after another appeared, all in a clearly human-created line. Or other-than-human created.
“Ah. I’d wondered where it was.” Skorpius spoke aloud, hoping to incite their hunter out into the open.
“Where what was?” Brigid’s gaze lingered on the long row of uniform indentations.
“Merlin’s secret source.” Oh, yeah. Skorpius laid it on thick and loud. Perfect sorcerer bait. Speak to the egomaniac.
“Secret source?”
“The sarsens. For Stonehenge. Legend says Merlin himself placed the rocks. But they were quarried from an unidentified cave. I believe we’re standing in it.”
“Why lead us here, then?”
“Reach out with your magick.” Follow along, my love. Trust me.
With a surge of energy from Brigid along their hearts’ bond and a brief nod, she closed her eyes. Her expression relaxed into sweet serenity.
Then in a gentle wave, particles illuminated. The number increased by tenfold, then tenfold again. Until trillions of tiny atoms sparkled with her silvery gold hue. And each particle became an extension of her senses as she probed through dark, analyzed their surroundings.
