by Kat Bastion
I’d only been married for eleven days, and already I’d cheated. One could claim I had no choice in the matter. The point could be further argued that I might well have been raped had I not submitted. The glaring reality of the situation, however, refused to be ignored. The moment he’d held me down, I’d wanted him.
How is this possible?
I knew I hadn’t gone from virginal innocent to insatiable slut in under two weeks. Stress had clearly played a role. Loneliness and fear had sought pacification. The solid arms of a warrior, shielding me from harm in a world from which I had no means of escape, had become an intoxicating potion I’d been helpless to resist . . . or so I reasoned.
Tension eased from my rigid shoulders the moment I allowed myself to be human in the least forgiving set of circumstances I’d never imagined. My foundation was shaken as self-sufficient me had become very dependent on not one man, but two in as many weeks. Relying on another for advice or directions had been one thing I’d never minded. But being tethered to a man for all my needs proved a challenging adaptation for an independent woman to handle . . . twice.
When I cast the not-so-minor indiscretion aside to focus on my bigger problem, I groaned. No amount of reasoning or justification for my actions in either century changed my state of affairs. I’d become entangled in a complex web of time, subject to the bidding of something larger than lowly little me. With no way to ascertain whether each experience had been a test for my reaction, or if all these events had been fated in the grander plan of things, I fell back on truths I knew for certain.
I’d become a survivor, using intrinsic strengths to my advantage in attaining goals. My forté happened to be archaeology and language. The natural optimist in me rose to the challenge, determined to learn everything possible about and from Velloc’s indigenous Highland tribe. Only through my ever-growing cache of knowledge, would I learn the secrets of that box.
My role as victim ceased to exist every time I stole back control of my world.
CHAPTER Sixteen
Highlands of Scotland—Ancient Reign of the Picts, Thirty-Two Days Later
The hard vibration of metal striking metal traveled deep into my arm as I deflected with the short blade in my right hand. I arced down a forceful blow with the ax in my left. Velloc blocked my attempt with his longer, broader sword. Piercing rings from each impact reverberated out into the meadow. Hot from the bright rays of the midday sun, a bead of sweat trickled between my breasts, and my ponytailed hair had plastered to the skin between my shoulder blades.
A gleam sparked in Velloc’s eye—pride. Under his powerful attack, he recognized an opponent he’d expertly trained for battle. Daily sessions in the art of hand-to-hand combat had been something I’d insisted upon from a leader that claimed me as his among their warrior race.
The well-balanced weapons had become as much a part of me as the callused hands that gripped them. Every muscle in my body had strengthened, toned into sleek definition. Reflexes had grown lightning fast. Agility refined into the nimble moves of a jungle cat. Natural intuitiveness . . . honed razor-sharp.
A smile spread across Velloc’s face. He lowered his sword and stepped back as he panted. “You fight like my best.”
I laughed, drawing my arms into my sides as I replied in free-flowing Pict gleaned from my language immersion, “You forget who trained me. I am your best.”
He sheathed his blade and closed the distance between us in a blur, crushing his lips to mine. Hot. Demanding. Passionate. The man never failed to take my breath away as he commanded my body and my heart.
Like a good warrior who never lets her guard down, my weapons remained in my hands. I yielded to his aggressive kiss for a fraction of a second before tangling my tongue with his, battling for what I wanted. I fought for my place everywhere and in everything. The proving of my existence had evolved into a fundamental need, refusing to go unheeded until satisfied.
An approving groan rumbled from his throat, and I moaned in a low purr. Primal possession. The instinct had ruled our relationship from its initial moments; my acceptance of it had enabled our bond to form and a deep connection to grow. Mine. I gripped his hips, pressing the handles of my blades into his body as I fervently staked my ownership in return.
Velloc tore his lips away as quickly as he’d descended, his fierce gaze locking onto mine. He growled as if the choicest part of the pack’s kill had been stolen from him. I smirked, and the corners of his mouth twitched.
Without uttering a word, Velloc completely disarmed me. He also carefully took the weapons from my hands, giving me a final quick kiss before he turned, heading toward the stables to retrieve our horses. I inhaled a deep, steadying breath, watching the lean muscles of his back flex as they glistened in the sunlight.
My thoughts drifted to the past weeks. I hadn’t abandoned my quest to reunite with the box. On the contrary, I’d used the time I’d been given wisely. A deep-cover spy planted in a foreign land, I’d garnered every fragment of intelligence I could from Velloc and his tribe.
Had I fallen for Velloc? Without a doubt. But my feelings about him didn’t change my circumstance. I belonged to two men, three time periods, and I had a burning premonition that whatever time demons toyed with my whereabouts, they weren’t done with me yet.
I’d needed every moment of the almost five weeks I’d been left in Velloc’s world to truly break through the barriers of communication and understanding. Trust, at first tiny tendrils seeking a solid foundation, had taken a deep hold, rooting firmly not only between Velloc and me, but also with his people. My people.
With confidence, I admitted I fit in well within his world—a simple, basic life, grounded in the need to survive. Did I see myself staying in his world? Sure, if the option were available. However, the isolated, romantic notion did nothing to shroud what I had to do, no matter how difficult the task. Even though every part of Velloc’s world had wrapped itself around me, accepting me as one of its own, I still had a strong tether to another.
I dreamed vividly of Iain. Not even the smallest detail of my short time with him had faded. My heart beat for two men, and I didn’t care about the ramifications of such insanity. Since no one asked my permission when tossing me about through some space–time continuum, I got to make up the rules of how I adjusted to the jet lag and culture shock.
Velloc led our horses across the grassy field. Mine, the dappled gray mare, I’d named Malibu for her cloud-covered hide. It evoked memories of a peaceful beach scene from my distant California home.
I admired my man as he approached. He represented the perfect specimen of how I’d always imagined a Pict warrior. Long, black hair flowed beyond his shoulders. Tribal symbols etched into his skin in the most battle-injury-prone areas shone bright cobalt against a tanned surface. Broad shoulders and a trim waist highlighted a lean, muscular body crafted from surviving in an unforgiving wilderness. His proud carriage displayed health and vitality. I smiled as my heart leapt at the sight of him.
The care and patience he’d shown me during my integration into his world had been rivaled only by the carnal passion he unleashed between us at night until we both collapsed from exhaustion. Fragile strands of love had developed between us, forcing me to accept that, in all probability, Iain had been correct: the box did bring two soul mates together. But Iain had no idea at the time there could be more than one, and neither had I.
Velloc strode up and dropped the sets of reins, embracing me as he lifted me off the ground in a crushing hug. He set me down as I kissed him, laughing.
I pushed him away and shook my head as I pressed my hands onto Malibu, swinging onto her back and settling astride her in one of the many pair of deerskin pants I’d insisted upon being made. She whuffled softly.
Velloc smacked the hindquarters of his stallion as he jumped onto his mount, the animal taking off to the south. I urged Malibu by squeezing my thighs, and we raced after them toward the afternoon’s hunting grounds.
We’d
talked about the day’s plans late into last night. Although I’d accompanied him hunting a few times, I’d not actually participated in the capture or kill. Instead, I’d hung back, observing. Their success on the outings I’d attended relied on their innate ability to commune with animals. I wanted to learn the skill.
When I’d asked, he’d chuckled, kissing me.
“Isobel. It’s not mastered. Not taught. It comes from your heart.” He pointed at my chest.
I grabbed his wrist, kissing his finger, adjusting my body atop his into a teasing position. “Yes, but what do you think about when you’re out there? How does your heart feel?”
His gaze grew distant as I dropped my chin onto my folded hands on his chest. “I show and cause no fear. When I face the animal, he’s not my prey. I become the rabbit. Its frantic heart beats in my chest. I slow my breathing and focus on calming his beating heart. Deer, rabbits, birds, squirrels . . . all creatures coexist with no threat. I become nonthreatening.”
“They sense fear?” I asked. “Can they smell it?”
He shook his head. “No. Everything has vibration.” He flattened his palm on my back, vibrating it imperceptibly. “I match my pulse of life to his.”
“I understand.” I’d said the words, but I truly hadn’t grasped what he’d meant, or how I could possibly learn something so metaphysical in a conversation in the middle of the night.
That late-night discussion led to our afternoon lesson.
Malibu galloped along our usual path past a thicket by a pond. I flattened to her back, opening my heart, trying to become the horse, feeling every breath she took with each stride she made.
I closed my eyes, trusting she would protect me. Her body went rigid with tension as she slowed, negotiating a tricky turn. After the challenging terrain passed, her muscles eased.
Malibu’s inhalations became mine. Labored breathing from the exertion of her ride fused into my lungs. Together we slowed, coming down to a trot, a walk, and taking two more slow steps before halting. I ran my hands and arms across the shoulders and neck of the magnificent animal, my body humming with an energized buzz I’d never experienced before.
When I pressed my body upright and opened my eyes, we stood at the edge of the same clearing where Velloc had run me to ground so many weeks ago. Our destination had to be by design—nothing Velloc did ever fell to coincidence.
I turned and found him off his horse, walking toward my side. He grinned up at me, a look of proud understanding in his eyes. He knew. The sense of accomplishment from my epiphany radiated from deep within me, and I beamed down at him, smiling so wide my cheeks cramped.
He slid me off my mare, taking my hand into his larger grip. We strolled together across the open glade toward the stream. Unlike my original Disney visit, no animals were anywhere to be seen.
Velloc dropped onto a dry patch of dirt adjacent to the stream and pulled me between his legs. His broad chest served as my backrest, and he folded his strong arms around me. Our breaths merged into a single gentle rhythm. I closed my eyes becoming one with him, absorbing every nuance of his essence into mine.
After my intuitive ride, I effortlessly opened to the environment around me. My mare had been an excellent tutor, throwing off vibrations at such a high level, I’d only needed to be receptive and listen.
Energy hummed from Velloc’s body, combining with mine, ebbing and flowing between us in beautiful waves. I sighed, giving myself over to the amazing feeling.
Suddenly, the current rippled, taking on a new dimension. I opened my eyes at the change and saw that we weren’t alone. A doe had stepped into view on the opposite shore. She approached in slow steps, coming to a stop only a few feet away. Curious ears twitched forward, then they swiveled back to check for threats before homing in on us again.
I relaxed further, tapping into Velloc’s powerful aura. Together, we strengthened our connection and expanded outward, tapping into the energy of the deer. She dipped her head, submerging her muzzle under the surface of the water. I nearly felt the cool liquid as she took deep swallows. Amazing, impossibly slow seconds passed before the creature lifted her head and turned, leaving silently the same way she’d come.
Velloc’s warm breath fanned across the shell of my ear as he kissed it softly. “I don’t always use magick to hunt,” he whispered. “A swift chase prevents a connection. Then I am very much a skillful hunter. To lie in wait, calm the creature, become the animal before a kill, is a spiritual gift. The ritual pays respect for the sacrifice—its life . . . for mine.”
Wow. The soft-spoken, poetic words from a warrior who killed savagely if warranted, melted my heart. To have him care about a life he took, and for him to show such reverence with me, spoke volumes about the depths of the man who’d wrapped himself around me. I stretched my arms out, winding them around his forearms, resting my cheek on his bicep.
* * *
The long day of training, hunting, bathing, and eating had exhausted my body. Regardless, I had a nightcap agenda in mind as I tumbled into our bed. I summoned Velloc with a crooked finger. He crawled onto our pallet and leaned over me, bracing his weight on his elbows.
I smirked. “What if we connected our vibrations while we . . .” I grasped his already-hard cock as the finish to my statement.
His eyes glistened with mischief. “We have from the very beginning.”
I gasped, punching his chest. “You used magick on me?” I frowned, realizing he likely had.
He cocked his head. “Would it matter to you if I had?”
Would it?
Attraction and emotions were very different, even if their complexities intertwined. Would it make any difference whatsoever if he’d used his seductive magick to capture my heart?
Love either existed or it didn’t. How we ended up there was only an interesting story developed along the way. The fact we were there—in love with each other—remained the only solid truth holding any amount of importance.
“No.” My reply came after my careful consideration.
He laughed a rich, booming sound. “Good. I did use magick. And I would do it again.”
I wrapped my legs around him and pulled my hips up, sliding my wet, ready body along his hardened shaft. “Show me, Velloc. Unite with me in every way. Teach me your magick.”
With my heart and soul opened wide, our bodies expressed a physical connection . . . while our life force fused into one.
CHAPTER Seventeen
“Velloc?”
I stood on the edge of the jagged cliff with my arms wrapped around my midsection, gazing out at the dimming-gray horizon. Waves crashed onto the rocks below. He answered with an embrace from behind and a gentle kiss on my temple. Thoughts had plagued me over the last week, and I needed to be able to share everything with him. Worried what his reaction would be, I spat it out, needing to unearth it from the pit of my stomach.
“I need to go back . . . to the box.” I held my breath when he froze. As he regained control, his rigidity eased. With his sharp mind and keen intuitiveness, no further words were required for him to understand my request or its risks.
“No.” He released his hold, and I turned around to see he’d stepped back from me. A deep scowl furrowed his face, and his crossed arms and wide stance boldly stated no negotiations would be entertained.
“Velloc, I had a life before this one. I . . . had a husband.”
My quiet voice remained flat. I hadn’t given up hope of reuniting with Iain, but in my recent past of wild-and-crazy time jumping, I had no idea if the box would even transport me back there. I’d become a drafted player in a game without rules. However, like geese driven to fly south for their winter, an overwhelming pull to return to the very thing that governed my whereabouts had grown too powerful to be ignored.
He slowly shook his head back and forth. I nodded, dropping my gaze to the ground. Respect for the man and all he’d provided made me honor his authority. I turned back to the ocean, focusing on the waves in the dis
tance. Their rhythm helped pacify my roiling mind.
His voice rose above the crashing surf. “Why? Tell me why.” He kept his distance, his firm tone demanding an explanation.
Our topics of conversation had never touched on either of our pasts. I hadn’t questioned his lack of curiosity, because a large part of me didn’t want to go there either. The realist in me had refused to pine about something I couldn’t have until a true avenue opened. We’d developed a strong foundation of trust over the past weeks, though, and it gave me the confidence to broach the subject.
A growing urgency that I felt humming deep inside had become a secondary instigator, telling me I either opened the discussion door, or the unknown force behind my adventure would shove me right through it . . . unopened. I’d begun to feel a lot like Alice in her Wonderland.
“I came here through that box.” I turned around, searching his face for understanding. “The same box that brought me to you sent me to my first husband. His time exists more than a thousand years from now. My time—where I come from—is two thousand years from now . . .”
My voice trailed off. Velloc squinted, appearing to digest what I’d said . . . or assessing my mental capacity.
My explanation would’ve blown lesser men away. Anyone but Velloc would’ve thought I’d gone insane. The man knew my heart, though. He’d often praised me for the sound head on my shoulders. I’d also materialized out of thin air right before his eyes in a thirteenth-century gown and twenty-first-century boots—irrefutable evidence that stood in my corner.
It dawned on me that Velloc had to have suspected something about my sudden appearance. In fact, that he’d never brought up the subject seemed odd, especially with his extraordinary intellect and intuition.
