“Yeah.”
He broke into a mischievous chuckle. He sat down on the floor and put out his arms to her. “Come here, lass.”
She settled into his embrace and rested her head on his chest. The night deepened, and the crackling fire kept them company. He bent down and kissed her hair. “We’ll leave for Duart in the morning. We must hurry and tell Christie about these dragons.”
“How do you know they didn’t come from Aegir?” She closed her eyes. “Don’t answer that.”
“We must warn Arch and Christie,” he went on. “Then we must send word to Urlu. They can help us with these things. I made a mistake trying to do it all alone. I’ll no’ face another wave of curse monsters on me own. One death is enough. Then we can stay at Duart with the rest of the Clan.”
“I don’t care,” she replied. “I’d be perfectly happy to stay here with you. It’s kind of nice when it’s quiet like this. I’ve never seen it like this since you first brought me here. I like it.”
“Aye,” he whispered. “It’s nice to be alone together for once.”
He cupped her chin and raised her face to kiss her. Ivy relaxed into the delirious bliss of having him all to herself. Now that she gave herself over to her decision, she never doubted it. She belonged with him. Where they went or where they lived or what hardships they faced no longer mattered.
He touched his lips to hers in magical union. He drifted just far enough away to gaze into her eyes. She could stay like this forever, just floating in his eyes and in his arms and swimming in his lips.
He descended on her mouth again, and this time, the kiss built to a more powerful connection. He pressed into her, and her body came to life. She melted into his mouth, and he prodded her lips apart. He worked her mouth open, and their tongues touched in the middle.
The next thing Ivy knew, she was arms and legs up to her eyelids in kissing him. She pulled him down against her mouth. She devoured him as fast as he devoured her. She ran her fingers down his spine. She wanted him touching her all over.
His knee slithered between her thighs, and she felt his muscles. She traced down his waist to where his kilt rode up against his leg. She touched his bare skin and stroked up his bare thigh to his ass.
He hardened against her, and she tugged him down between her legs. Lachlan jerked upright, his eyes bright. “Are ye sure about this? Are ye really sure?”
Ivy laughed out loud. “I’m sure.”
He got to his feet and raised her upright in front of him. He kissed her by the fire until his hands groped down to her pants. Ivy didn’t want to wait any longer. She led him to the bed and pushed him down on it.
The fire cast no light or heat into this part of the room. Darkness closed around them, but Ivy already knew what she had to do. Her hands discovered his body under his clothes. She touched the heavy leather belt around his waist. When she popped it open, his kilt fell away. She smoothed it down to his feet and dropped it on the floor.
Lachlan’s breath caught in his throat when she touched him now. He tried to reach her, to take her clothes off, but she guided his hands down onto the bed. She caressed up his stomach under his shirt. She touched his sides and his chest and glided the shirt over his head.
His skin tightened from the cold. Ivy had to move fast. She knelt back on the bed and peeled her clothes off. Lachlan watched her in the silvery dark. When she lay down on top of him to protect him with her body, his warm arms closed around her.
Ivy tugged the bed clothes out of the way. “Quick! Get inside.”
Lachlan laughed, and they both dove under the covers to get warm. Ivy burrowed into the delicious bubble of his heat. She ducked her head under the covers and buried her face in his heady aroma.
Lachlan growled under his breath. She nuzzled into his chest, his armpits, and down to his stomach. She found his throbbing manhood, and it told her its secrets of passionate ecstasy and dreamy fulfillment.
She crawled up to his face again, and when their lips met in endless kisses, their bodies joined together to produce more heat than either of them could stand. Ivy draped her velvet skin over him and sailed into a majestic sea of bliss. She found a place for his hardness inside her soft tissues. His power smoothed away all the rough edges until she burnished bright at his touch.
Under the protection of the heavy quilts, they rocked on a slow rhythm of gentle waves. Her silvery moisture guided him into her secret recesses, and she learned all the forgotten places where she could touch his deepest being.
She covered his chest with her breasts and straddled his hips to drive herself to the skies. She whined all her craven longing into his ear, and he heard and understood. He filled her up with his power until he satisfied every aching need she never knew she had.
Chapter 24
Ivy sat on the bed in the bright morning and stared at Lachlan sitting next to her. “Are you serious?”
He stared down at his hands in his lap. He kept flexing his finger open and closed. He knew telling her the truth would be hard. “It’s all true. Kincaid told me, and I had to go back to your world to get me power. I didnae ken it at the time that’s the reason I had to go. It just happened without me meaning to. Do ye understand?”
“I understand. I didn’t think you went on your own when you were in the middle of a sentence. I just didn’t think…this was the reason.”
“I wouldnae left ye the way I did,” he went on. “I didnae mean to distress ye, but I had to find me power, and I suppose that was the way it had to happen.”
Ivy sighed. “At least Nora’s all right.”
“Och, aye, she’s grand, and Aegir’ll no’ bother her again.”
“I hate to say it, but I think Kincaid is right,” she remarked. “Aegir will only get more vindictive and dangerous the more powerful you get. The more you use your power to thwart him, the more he’ll retaliate until he destroys you.”
“He’ll no’ destroy me,” Lachlan murmured. “He cannae.”
“What makes you think that? He already proved a dozen times he’s more powerful than you could ever be. You’re his grandson, and you’re at least half human—or whatever you are. That means your power is half as strong as his at the most.”
Lachlan gritted his teeth. “I dinnae care if he’s the Almighty Incarnate. I’ll defeat him if it’s the last thing I do. He’ll no’ come near you or me Clan.”
“He’ll get even more vindictive, now that…” She broke off.
Lachlan studied her face. Now that he spent the night with her, now that they gave their hearts to each other, her countenance glowed with inner radiance. That, more than anything else, sparked his determination to drive Aegir off once and for all.
“Anyway,” he went on, “I had to tell ye, just in case ye…well, if ye…” He trailed off.
Ivy blushed. “Okay. Now I know, so we can go to Duart and warn the others. I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear you’ve got some power to use against these dragons.”
Lachlan looked the other way and didn’t answer. He already sensed Ivy scrutinizing him from behind.
“What is it? You do plan to tell your brothers, don’t you?”
Lachlan shrugged. “I dinnae ken.”
“You have to tell them,” she exclaimed. “You have to give them some hope in this war. They already think I’m a harbinger of doom. They think me showing up is the kiss of death to everyone around me.”
“Ye dinnae understand,” he blurted out. “They’re my brothers. They always have been. I dinnae want to lose that, even if it means fighting as a wolf.”
Ivy stared at him. “Fighting as a wolf means letting Aegir kill you and wiping out your whole Clan. Is that what you want? Of course not. Fighting Aegir as a wolf would be suicide.”
He lowered his eyes to his hands in his lap again. He didn’t want to admit she was right, even when he knew it. He could never face his brothers if they knew the truth. He had a different mother. He had all these powers even he didn’t understand.
He had to cl
ing to the one thing he knew for certain. He had to hang onto his Clan and his family above all else. He couldn’t let go of that, even if it meant losing.
Ivy shook herself and climbed off the bed. “All right. Come on. Let’s get out of here. The more ground we cover, the sooner we’ll get there. We can warn them about the dragons and send word to Urlu that we need help. We can do all those things before we decide what to tell your brothers.”
He nodded and followed her out of the castle. They had no food or supplies to carry. It was just the two of them strolling hand and hand up the hills to the moor. The sun shone bright and warm. The sea lay behind them, along with all the perils and heartbreaks of the last few months.
Lachlan paused on the hilltop to survey the land all around. He wasn’t sorry to leave the Tower House behind. He was going home to his family and his kin. He would rebuild Moy Castle after all this madness ended. When they found Alexis and lifted the curse, then he would return and bring this place to life again.
For now, the Tower House held nothing but nightmares for him. One devastating battle after another, barely won and with great loss of life—the Tower House became a monument to annihilation and slaughter.
Lachlan hurried on his way. He didn’t stop at Martha’s grave. He wanted to preserve her in his mind the way she was the last time he saw her. She gazed up into his eyes through a film of water. He touched her face, and now she was gone.
He and Ivy hiked into the remote mountains beyond the Lochbuie Standing Stones. Nothing in this familiar country attracted him to linger. He wanted to cover as much ground as he could. Nothing mattered but reaching Duart before the next attack.
They passed Loch Uisg and climbed the far hill to the pass at Kinlochspelve before nightfall. Lachlan planned to stay at the Kinlochspelve hostel and press on the next day.
His heart burst with pure joy when they crested the hilltop and he looked down on Loch Spelve spread out at their feet. All he had to do was skirt around this lake and a little farther over the hills to Duart.
He slipped his arm around Ivy and drew her into his embrace. He kissed her. Everything was going to be okay at last. He knew that, now that he saw his destination in sight.
He let her go to press on his way when he stopped in his tracks. Out of the dusk, five sleek shapes slithered along the lakeshore. They dodged around bushes, reappeared, and glided over the ground on silent paws.
Ivy caught her breath, but Lachlan burst out laughing. He jumped away from her. Before his hands touched the ground, he changed into a running, gliding, flowing wolf. He ran amongst his brothers and his cousins. They nipped here and there, pranced away, and ran on.
Never in his life had Lachlan experienced such a blessed reunion. He spent months away from his Clan before, but he never felt more one with them than he did right now. They were one and the same kind in the quiet before they found out he wasn’t really their kind at all.
He hated Rhona for giving birth to him. He would give anything, including his life, to be pure wolf the way his brothers were. He never wanted anything in life but this joyous play on the fields of Mull.
He ran around his brothers for a while before he turned his steps back up the hill where Ivy waited for him. A glowing smile spread over her face to see him so happy. He charged up the hill and ran around her. The other wolves streaked up behind him, and they all swirled around Ivy’s legs.
She laughed, and they herded her down the hill to join them on the road to Duart. Clyde jumped on Lachlan’s back. He snapped at Lachlan’s ears. He grabbed a big mouthful of Lachlan’s neck and gave it a playful shake before he leapt clear to run away.
Lachlan lunged for him. His teeth clicked shut on empty air. At the same moment, Christie barreled at him from the other side. He slammed his shoulder against Lachlan’s flank and knocked his brother off his feet.
Lachlan rounded on him with a snarl—and stopped. In front of his eyes, the water of Loch Spelve surged against the shoreline. A dizzying mass of water rushed through the narrow mouth to fill the lake. The water kept rising and rising until it piled on top of itself in a catastrophic tidal wave.
Lachlan jumped up on his hind legs. His wolf skin vanished, but he was already too late. He threw one arm out in front of him to stop the wave, but it already broke and tumbled over itself. It hit the shore with almighty force.
The deluge smacked into Lachlan and swept him off his feet. Wolf bodies struggled against the torrent all around him. The wolves yelped in terror. Water filled their mouths and cut off their cries. They struggled to the surface, only to roll over and over again in the chaotic turmoil.
Lachlan flailed his arms and legs in all directions. He did his best to swim, but the water turned over too fast. Just when his head broke the surface, it plunged under again. He choked on gallons of water, but he couldn’t right himself.
He kicked and paddled his arms, but he couldn’t touch the ground. He must be dozens of feet in the air, and he couldn’t catch sight of land anywhere. Had Aegir drowned the whole Isle of Mull in his lust for revenge?
Lachlan bumped into a wolfen body in the churning froth. He threw his arms around the furry form, and they rolled together through the water. All at once, Lachlan hit something solid. He held onto his companion with one arm and the object with the other. The water rushed away from him in a powerful current, but he didn’t let go.
The flurry of foaming eddies abated and rushed away from him, and Lachlan sank onto the ground. The wolf lay still at his side, and Lachlan gasped for breath. The evening breeze chilled him all over. He ought to shift into his wolf form. His fur would keep him warm, but he didn’t. He sat up and looked around the drowned world.
Loch Spelve lay smooth and placid the way it had for countless generations. No trace of the enormous wave remained to threaten anybody. Wolves squirmed all over the ground in various attitudes of distress, but they all moved—all but the wolf at Lachlan’s side.
He sat up and laid his hand on the animal’s shoulder. It was his brother Arch, and he wasn’t breathing. Lachlan bowed his head over the creature. After everything that happened, he couldn’t even weep for his own brother. So many deaths. So many injuries. So much destruction.
Lachlan searched his heart and found the truth staring back at him. Not all the power he inherited from Aegir could save Arch from drowning. Lachlan couldn’t drive the water from his brother’s lungs and replace it with air. Aegir took Lachlan’s identity, his home, his peace, and now he took this, too.
Lachlan got to his feet. Christie and Clyde stood up not far away, and they saw Arch, too. They stumbled forward, and Christie fell on his knees at Arch’s side. Lachlan rested his hand on Christie’s shoulder, but he couldn’t speak.
Christie shoulders shook with sobs, but even that existed so far away that Lachlan couldn’t react. Christie could grieve for Arch the way the Arch deserved, but grief piled on top of grief left Lachlan’s heart dead.
He gave Christie’s shoulder a squeeze, and he walked away. He counted up the wolves still on their feet. Everyone was present and accounted for. Then he remembered. He glanced up the hill to the pass between Loch Spelve and Loch Uisg.
The hill towered tall and smooth and bare. The five wolves who came to meet him all stood here by the lake shore—five wolves and no more. Ivy was gone.
Chapter 25
One of Aegir’s tentacled monsters wrestled Ivy through the walls into her old bedroom. At first glance, nothing was out of place. Her bivalve bed sat under the window. She looked out on the same view.
She wriggled against the creature’s grip and delivered a swift kick to its gelatinous body. Her foot sank up to the ankle in ooze, and the creature didn’t react at all. It shoved her into the room and let her go in the middle of the floor.
“You can’t do this to me!” she shrieked. “I demand you let me go at once!”
Her voice echoed off the walls. The creature turned away and vanished through the wall. She never doubted those walls would
be as solid to her as the stone walls of the Tower House she just left behind. She would never be able to pass through them. She was a prisoner in this room.
She walked over to her bed and sank down on it. Her chin rested on her chest. After all the fighting and struggle, she was back in this room where she started. Nothing would ever be the same, though. The water no longer cushioned everything for her. It no longer wrapped her in its velvety woolen embrace. It no longer stopped her thinking or feeling everything.
Aegir’s spell turned her imprisonment into a joy and an honor for her before. All that changed when she ran away. Now she had to bear the misery of incarceration without the opiate to ease her suffering. Aegir would never make this easier for her again.
Aegir didn’t do it. She did it to herself. She made it easy on herself by accepting it. Now that she no longer accepted it, she wanted to suffer. She wanted to hate every second of her existence down here. She would keep hating it until she returned to Lachlan and the world above she grew to cherish so much.
Exhaustion and despair made her want to close her eyes and go to sleep. She wanted to sleep through the next fifty years of her life so she wouldn’t experience any of them. One thought consumed her mind and refused to let her rest. Lachlan.
She cast her eye around the room. She knew every trinket and bauble on the shelves. Most of them Aegir gave her as tokens of his affection. Now she hated them, too. She hated everything he ever gave her—everything except the mirror.
Would it still work? Could she still use it to see Lachlan? Did he die in that last great tidal wave? Had some massive shark swum out of the depths and bitten off the lower half of his body? Maybe his brothers and his kin mourned his loss right now.
She got to her feet and crossed the room to the mirror. She prayed to anybody who would listen to let her see his beloved face just one more time. She stood in front of the mirror and thought about him.
The surface wavered, and the colors converged to form a picture. Ivy held her breath and waited. Dear Lachlan! Please let him be alive. She would give anything for him to be alive and well, even if she could never touch him again.
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