Dragon Knight's Ring (Order of the Dragon Knights Book 5)

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Dragon Knight's Ring (Order of the Dragon Knights Book 5) Page 6

by Mary Morgan


  “Oh my stars,” whispered Lena, grabbing Meggie’s arm and leading her to the back of the kitchen. “You said nothing about how gorgeous Adam MacFhearguis is—he’s mega hot!”

  Meggie rolled her eyes and eased out of Lena’s grasp. “I forgot,” she lied.

  Lena blinked. “Are you blind?” She placed a hand on Meggie’s forehead. “Or do you have a fever? He’s the most gorgeous man to ever set foot inside Castle Aonach.”

  “Is he? I hadn’t noticed,” she lied once again, flicking dog hair off her sweater.

  “That’s the biggest crock of—”

  Meggie clamped a hand over her cousin’s mouth. “Stop! He could walk in here and hear us.”

  Lena shoved her hand aside. “Honestly? He doesn’t even know where the kitchen is, Meggie.”

  She waved her cousin off and went to stand by the window. The leaves on the oak trees were turning, their autumn colors brilliant against the blue sky. What she needed was a long ride through the hills on her horse—to clear the fog in her mind and cool the heat in her body. All of which started the moment Adam MacFhearguis came to her door. Meggie kept her focus on the trees when she spoke. “Did ye know that he claims to have met me?”

  “What?” Lena walked over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “When? Did it help to recall any of your memories?”

  Meggie rubbed a hand over her forehead trying hard to bring back any forgotten thoughts. “He told me I was only fifteen the first and only time we met. Although, I find it hard to believe it was only once. I think he’s hiding more.”

  “Why?” asked Lena, pulling a chair out to sit down.

  She glanced sideways at her cousin. “Because he knew about my gifts.”

  “Which ones?”

  “Speaking with the animals and singing to soothe them. And he calls me Meggie, not Margaret.”

  “This is great news, Meggie. If he knows a part of your past, then he could help you regain some or all of your memories. Furthermore, we call you Meggie, so why would it bother you if someone else does?”

  She gave Lena an annoyed look. “You’re family. He’s a stranger. We’ve spoken and he’s shared information, but nothing inside here.” She tapped her finger to the side of her head. Irritated, Meggie moved to the pantry and grabbed a couple of biscuits for Skye. Stuffing them in her back pocket, she turned and faced her cousin. “Did it ever occur to any of ye that I may never remember my past?”

  Lena stood and reached for her hands. “As frustrating as it sounds, it seems the Fates have brought this Adam MacFhearguis to your doorstep to help you. Also, the Fae might have a hand in this, too. Have you been to the stone circle?”

  Meggie shook her head, the question causing her stomach to clench. “Ye know I don’t like that place.”

  Releasing her hands, Lena smiled. “It’s a serene place, filled with the power of the Fae. With the special powers you have, you of all people should sense this.”

  “But I don’t!” snapped Meggie. “Each time I come near the place, I tense, waiting for something to happen. I leave feeling suffocated.”

  “You’ve never stepped inside the circle. One of these days, you’ll have to take a leap of faith. Maybe you should with this sexy new man you just hired.” She wagged her eyebrows in mischief. “Your brawn Highlander,” she teased. “By the way, I loved the leather pants on him, though they look old.”

  “Enough! He’s not my Highlander, and he looks medieval. His hair is far too long. It hangs down his back. And ye should hear the way he speaks,” Meggie protested.

  “Have you listened to yourself recently? When you’re angry or frustrated, you start spouting words that are positively ancient.”

  “Humph! Maybe, but I want naught to do with him.”

  Lena snorted and moved to the fridge, pulling out two beers. “Well, if that’s how you really feel, there’ll be more for me. I call dibs on the Highlander. Furthermore, you know I love a man with long, thick hair.”

  Heat prickled inside of Meggie. She knew her cousin was teasing, but she didn’t like her words. Images of Lena with Adam made her green with envy. Her mind screamed to leave the castle and ride through the hills, but for reasons she couldn’t fathom, Meggie didn’t want to leave Lena alone with Adam. She may have argued that he wasn’t her man, but she didn’t want her cousin laying claim to MacFhearguis either.

  Moving to block Lena’s path, she grabbed the two beers from her hands. “Yes, I have to admit he’s the most sexy, drop-dead gorgeous man to walk through these doors. But I don’t have time for a man in my life—any men.” Meggie turned and walked out of the kitchen.

  “Hey, where are you taking my beers?” demanded Lena.

  Meggie glanced over her shoulder and winked at her cousin. “Oh, I thought one was for me. I’ll make sure Adam gets his. Ye have a dinner to finish. At least Ann prepared most of the meal.”

  Hearing Lena’s curse, she laughed and walked smack into the subject of her recent conversation.

  Grasping her arms, Adam steadied her. Beer sloshed out of one of the bottles, and she absently lapped up the liquid on her hand. Seeing his shocked look, she shoved one of the bottles against his chest. “Here, I was bringing this to you. I hope your room is to your liking. It overlooks the stables.”

  “Aye.”

  He continued to stare at her, as if he knew all of her secrets. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

  The man smiled slowly revealing those tempting dimples on his cheeks, and she swallowed—a couple of times. He radiated pure male. His massive bulk engulfed her, and the corridor was far too small for them both. “It’s warm in here. I think I’ll go for a ride.”

  When he didn’t move, she arched a brow. Watching as he lifted the bottle of beer, his expression changed to one of curiosity. Slowly, he brought the bottle to his lips and took a sip. His lips pursed and then he downed the entire bottle. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he smiled fully. “By the saints, what do ye call this ale?”

  Meggie almost swooned from watching him. “Iri…Irish stout, beer,” she stammered.

  “’Tis the best I have tasted in some time. Do ye have more?”

  Meggie blinked. “Um…yes, but don’t ye think ye should wait until ye have eaten? Lena is preparing stew and fresh-baked bread for dinner.”

  “Aye, ye are correct.”

  “Do ye have fresh clothes? I can show ye where to clean up before I leave.” Meggie took a sip of her beer to help steady her racing heart.

  “Nae. I lost everything on my travels. I shall go down to the stream and wash there.”

  Sputtering on her beer, she coughed. “Right.” Definitely gypsy traveler. “Let me see what I can find.” That will fit your sinfully, muscular body.

  His eyes sparked with humor as if he heard her thoughts. “I would be most grateful for a fresh tunic.”

  Shaking her head, she moved past him, brushing against his arms. The mere sensation caused her to shiver. “We have no tunics like the one you’re wearing. I’ll find something else.”

  As the corridor widened, Meggie breathed a sigh of relief. She opened the door to the bathroom. “Ye can wash in here. I will fetch ye some clothing.”

  His presence loomed behind her. Adam lightly touched her shoulder, and Meggie almost jumped out of her skin. As he moved to enter the room, he peered around in confusion. “Where is the water?”

  “Sweet Brigid,” she muttered, turning on one of the faucets. Meggie pointed to the running water.

  Adam’s eyes went wide, and he took a few steps forward. “Sweet Mother Mary. How can I get my body in this?” His question filled with a wariness Meggie couldn’t fathom.

  Frustration laced her words when she went over to the tub. “Ye can put your bulk in here. Though ye may find it a tight fit, seeing ye are…um…well, big.”

  He looked at the tub and back to the sink. Twisting the knob on the other faucet, his face transformed to one of wonder as he continued to turn them on and off. �
�What a marvel!” Adam exclaimed. He looked at her, his face alight. “How much water can they bring forth?”

  Meggie held her hand up. “Stop! Please dinnae tell me ye have never bathed with running water. In a tub? Sink?” The man must have been raised in a croft. She leaned against one of the walls and watched him.

  “Never.” He laughed as he splashed his hands in the water. “I would take my baths in the loch near my home. Although, during the winter, I would bathe in the tub near the kitchens. Ye should have seen Anice’s face when she caught me one morn, hauling water with naught but the skin I came into this world with.”

  “Was Anice your mother?”

  “Nae, our cook,” he uttered sadly. As he turned off the faucets, Adam gazed up into the mirror. “By the hounds,” he whispered. He touched the mirror with his finger. “’Tis a wonder ye did not toss me out the first time ye saw me with all this muck.” He turned the faucet back on and splashed some water onto his face.

  Meggie coughed in her hand to hide the smile forming on her lips. Moving to the basin, she picked up a bar of soap and handed it to him. “This will help to clean some of the muck off your hands. Yet, I suggest ye fill the tub and clean all of your body.” The heat crept up her neck and onto her face, and she turned from his intense gaze. “I’ll go find ye some clean clothes.”

  When she got to the door, Meggie paused as he called her name.

  “Thank ye for your kindness,” he stated softly.

  She smiled and nodded. “You’re welcome, Adam.” Closing the door, she leaned against the wall for support. “Who are ye Adam MacFhearguis? Oh, what ye do to me,” she whispered. Shoving aside all thoughts of the man, Meggie climbed the steps up to the second level. Bypassing Lucas’s bedroom, she knew of only one other who would have the same build as Adam—her other cousin, Scott. “Ye won’t be returning for a few more days, so it will not matter,” she muttered.

  Entering, she quickly went to the closet and scanned the selection. Pulling out a pair of dark jeans and black T-shirt, she prayed they would fit the man. Seeing one of many black leather jackets Scott owned, she pulled one off the hanger. Glancing down, Meggie spied a pair of new boots. “Forgive me, Scott. I ken ye love your boots.” Snatching them up, she went to his dresser. Her fingers hesitated. “Argh! I’m going through your personal items.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed a pair of socks and then frowned when she couldn’t find one pair of boxers or briefs. “Lugh’s balls! Ye go without, Scott?” She giggled and closed all the drawers.

  Quietly closing the door on her cousin’s bedroom, Meggie went back downstairs and left the clothes in Adam’s room. As she stepped outside of his room, she could hear his boisterous laughter, and she longed to find out what caused the outburst. Her mind screamed to turn around and leave the place, but curiosity had always been her companion. Her steps slowed as she approached the bathroom door. She could hear him muttering in Gaelic, laughing, and now singing—all while the water was running.

  “The man is clearly demented,” she concluded.

  Suddenly he stopped. Yet, the water was still flowing, and Meggie could tell that not only were the sink faucets on, but also the ones on the tub. Did ye drown? Curiosity soon turned to concern. She placed her ear against the door trying to hear anything—his voice, splashing, something to indicate he was well. As the minutes ticked by, Meggie rubbed her head. “Bloody man! Serves ye right if ye drown with all the water ye are using,” she hissed out. She paced within the corridor, unsure of what she should do. “Or worse, ye will flood the place.”

  Deeming too many minutes had passed, Meggie carefully opened the door and peered around the edge. The sight before her caught her unaware, and she stifled a gasp as she walked into the bathroom. Adam MacFhearguis lay sprawled out in the tub of running water with his head resting comfortably on the edge. Both legs dangled over the edges, along with his arms—a specimen of pure erotic male. He had a look of contentment across his features, one she’d seen so many times on someone else. She frowned in confusion, trying to remember who it was.

  She found it hard to breathe, the room stifling from the heat, and she tugged at her sweater. “Nae,” she mumbled. “Nae,” she uttered with more conviction.

  Adam opened his eyes and turned to look at her. Her heart stopped for a brief moment, and the room swam before her. His gaze of desire pierced her soul, touching her mind and body. Beads of water rolled down his chest, and she fought the overwhelming urge to trail the path with her finger.

  Muttering her apologies, she stumbled backward out of the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Running as fast as she could, Meggie bolted into the stables and yanked open the gate to her horse’s stall. Embracing the animal, she quickly mounted and took off toward the hills.

  The wind whipped at her hair, and she tugged loose the ribbon holding it together, tossing it into the air. Holding onto Fion’s mane, she gave the horse free rein to go wherever she wished. Meggie had no care—she wanted to be free of Aonach. Free from the man who left her senses reeling and confused.

  What was wrong with her? She should have never asked him to stay. She gritted her teeth, angry with herself for feeling foolish. “I’m not a swooning lass to be toyed with,” she shouted to the wind. “Mayhap the man did me harm the one and only time he claimed to have met me!” Tears blurred her vision, but she kept Fion at a steady pace.

  Onward they traveled, the crisp, cool air filling her lungs and soothing her soul. The music of the land beckoned her as they climbed higher into the hills. She longed to go visit the oaks—her special place, but they were several days away, so she set her sight on the evergreens near a cave. Peace and solitude clawed at her, and the closer they got to the trees, the more her mind settled.

  Slowing Fion to a light cantor, Meggie arrived close to the entrance and dismounted near the tallest pine tree.

  Breathing heavily, she walked forward and leaned her head against the majestic tree. “Help me, Fae. I’m lost once again—disoriented, confused by this man, Adam MacFhearguis.” She lifted her head, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. Turning around, Meggie lifted her arms high. “Tell me who this man is. Should I trust him? Will he show me the past so I can move forward into the future? I may have begged once for ye to return my lost memories, and ye asked me to be patient. I cannae find solace without the knowledge of this man. Hear my plea, Fae. Tell me what to do with this medieval male.”

  Emotions swirled around Meggie, embracing her in warmth and love, and she slumped to the ground. Colors danced before her eyes, rich in the hues of the rainbows. Then she heard the faint whisper of many speak within her mind.

  “You must walk the path of destiny or all will vanish into the mists of time. Across time and space, your destiny awaits. To right a wrong between two lost souls. Beneath the gate, you shall wait, until the test of fate is complete. Two shall hold the key to mend the broken circle. Then, and only then will you find your peace. Have faith. Have hope. Believe in love, Margaret Aine MacKay.”

  “We, the Fae, will always be with you.”

  Chapter Seven

  “When the knight reached the top of the mountain, he relinquished his weapons and made a leap of faith into peace.”

  Adam grumbled a curse. Holding up the odd-looking trews, he frowned at the metal teeth in the center where this would cover a verra important part on his body. How did one fasten such a piece of clothing? Glancing down at his cock, he deemed the material would barely cover half of him. Apparently, men in this century were indeed much smaller. Did Meggie seriously expect him to stuff his male parts next to the sharp claws? He tossed the garment down in disgust and pulled on his trews.

  Grabbing the boots she left for him, he rubbed his hand over the leather stitching, marveling at the work. Three silver medallions etched with Celtic spirals were sewn down the outside. Slipping them on, Adam stood and walked to one end of the room and back. He barked out with laughter. “’Tis a wonder, though heavy. I thank ye, Meggie
.”

  Smiling, he slipped on the jacket and then took a glance at himself in the mirror. “What will ye think of me now, Meggie?” The hardened warrior stared back through the glass, and he gave the man a nod. Slipping his dirk into place at his waist, he then fastened his sgian dubh inside his boot.

  Before he left, Adam went and retrieved the only possession he valued beside the cross he wore around his neck—Meggie’s ring. Pulling it out of his leather pouch, he held it to the light streaming in through the windows. “One day ye will be my Meggie again, and I shall place this ring on your finger, where it belongs.” Slipping the ring back within the bag, he shoved it under his pillow on the bed.

  As he made his way downstairs, he paused near the entrance of the Great Hall. The crest of the Dragon Knights hung above the entrance. In the center was the Great Dragon and around her were the relics—sword, medallion, axe, and shield. His brother’s words came back to torment him. He refused to believe he was one of them. He wanted no part of the wretched Order. Adam gritted his teeth, shoving the memories of Meggie’s brothers aside. “Ye are all dead now. May your bones rot in Hell,” he muttered.

  “They are not in Hell,” stated a low voice from behind Adam.

  Turning swiftly, Adam recognized the man from the window he spied earlier. “Ye would ken this how?”

  The man moved past him and opened the doors to the Great Hall. Sweeping out his arm, he said, “The Dragon Knights were all honorable upon their deaths. They passed into the realm of eternal youth—Tir na Og.”

  Stepping inside the hall, Adam gazed at the tapestries hanging on both sides of the wall. There was one for each brother.

  “Several years ago, we found Duncan MacKay’s tapestry.” The man chuckled. “It was buried with the founding stone near the hearth.”

  Adam clenched his fists. Walking over to Duncan’s tapestry, he could make out all the man’s features. In his hand, he held the verra sword that killed Meggie, and Adam wanted to tear it down and toss the bloody material into the blazing hearth. The storms swirled around the man as if he were directing the tempest. Quickly averting his eyes, he glanced back at the man. “Founding stone?”

 

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