by Jayne Castel
XXVII
A MAN WITH SECRETS
THEY LEFT NESSA’S hovel and walked in silence back toward the beach.
Gavina glanced up and saw that a full moon now rode high in the sky—a bright disc against the pitch-black curtain of night. She noted that the moon had a slight golden hue this eve.
A Mead Moon indeed.
They’d been with the wise woman for longer than she realized.
A breeze feathered her cheeks as she followed Draco down the path, away from Stonehaven. It was a mild night out, but they still couldn’t risk returning to Dunnottar. Approaching the cliffs was something one wanted only to do in daylight—and even then, it was perilous.
Draco and Gavina walked in silence. Ever since Nessa’s proclamation, her husband hadn’t uttered a word.
Gavina’s thoughts turned to their last moments in the wise woman’s hovel.
Draco’s face had turned to stone, his dark eyes guttering. Danger had crackled in the smoky interior of that hut then. They’d all felt it, and Nessa had said no more.
But when Draco had stalked outside, Gavina turned to the wise woman. “Thank ye, Nessa.”
The woman had favored Gavina with a tight smile in response, meeting her eye. “Ye have an answer to yer problem, My Lady,” she’d said softly. “But it may not be an easy one to resolve … and remember that it takes two to make a marriage. I suggest ye examine yer own feelings as well.”
Pondering the wise woman’s words a short while later, Gavina’s attention swiveled to Draco’s back. Dressed in black leather, he blended in with the night: a tall, dark shape outlined by the moonlight. A man from another time.
Gavina drew in a steadying breath, in an attempt to settle the brownies that danced in her belly. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation looming on the horizon. It was clear Draco didn’t want to speak to her about what Nessa had said.
But if they didn’t discuss it, the curse would never be broken.
Still, she bided her time, letting him burn off some energy as he stalked over the last hill toward the beach.
Examine yer own feelings.
Nessa’s words mocked her as she walked. How did she really feel about Draco Vulcan?
Gavina’s thoughts whirled. Right now, she wasn’t sure.
Reaching the wide strand, they crunched across pebbles, to where the boat awaited them on the shore, nestled into the shingle.
There wasn’t anywhere else to sit, so Gavina climbed into the boat, drawing her knees up to her chest as she leaned her back against the side. It wasn’t the most comfortable of seats, but it would have to do.
Draco climbed in after her, lowering himself at the opposite end of the tiny craft.
Silence drew out between them, and then Gavina cleared her throat, shattering the tense quiet. It was time to be brave. She couldn’t let this lie.
“Are ye going to tell me what Nessa meant back there?” she asked softly.
“No,” came his flat reply.
“Some of it I understood,” she continued, ignoring the steely note in his voice. “We’re not in love … and unless we are, the curse can’t be broken.”
The moonlight accentuated the brutal beauty of his face, as he twisted his mouth. “So she says.”
“Ye don’t believe her?”
“No.”
Silence fell between them once more. Once again, Gavina eventually broke it. “Well … I do.”
He gave a snort, making it clear he didn’t care what she thought.
Anger quickened in Gavina’s belly. She’d had about enough of his rudeness. She’d weathered too much scorn at the hands of her first husband. This union with Draco wasn’t likely to last much longer—not with Longshanks and her brother battering at their gates—but while it endured, she’d continue to speak up for herself.
“She said ye are a man ‘with secrets’,” she pressed on. “What happened to ye, Draco? What made ye this way?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he growled. “Let this subject lie, Gavina … it can’t lead anywhere good.”
“I wish I could leave it,” Gavina countered, her temper fraying, “but my fate is entwined with yers now. This isn’t just about ye, Maximus, and Cassian anymore. Heather, Aila, and I are all part of this too. Tell me what happened to ye!”
Draco snarled a curse, lunged to his feet, leaped from the boat—and stormed away.
Gavina watched him go, but made no move to follow.
He’d be back. And when he did return, she’d resume her questioning. Gavina’s heart pounded as she waited, her belly clenching with nerves. Damn Nessa—she’d known this task would fall upon her.
And it was no easy one, for the walls that Draco Vulcan had built around him were as tough as five feet of granite. Nonetheless, she would try to break through them.
Dawn was still a few hours off, and she wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight anyway.
He did return—sooner than she’d anticipated.
Gavina knew why.
For all his arrogance and careless attitude, Draco was protective of women. She’d seen that when she’d met with her brother. He’d defended her from Shaw as he’d raised his hand to strike her.
Draco didn’t like leaving her out here alone in the dark, even if the look upon his face told her he’d rather spend the night with a rabid dog for company.
He didn’t climb back into the boat though; instead, he perched upon a log of driftwood a few yards back—a dark, silent presence.
The hiss of waves lapping upon the shingle and the whisper of the breeze encircled them, and Gavina gathered her courage once more. It was time for her to change tack. She needed to tackle the subject from a different angle.
“Was it a woman?” she eventually asked. Her belly tightened when she asked the question, as unexpected jealousy stirred within her. “Cassian told Aila that ye had a lover once … who was killed in a raid. He said ye were never the same afterward.”
A beat of silence followed, before Draco replied. “Cassian’s got a big mouth.”
“Cassian loves ye like a brother,” she countered, her voice hardening. “He worries about ye … although I sometimes wonder why he bothers, for ye are a mulish bastard.”
Gavina’s voice died off there, and she cursed herself. She was supposed to get answers out of the man, not insult him. He’d never open up to her now.
Is this how lovers speak to each other? The pair of them were supposed to be besotted with each other for the curse to break.
Gavina’s throat constricted, tears prickling her eyes.
Examine yer own feelings.
She felt knotted up inside, queasy with misery. What a mess this was. She’d done her best to help of late, but all she’d done is make things worse.
Silence drew out, and Gavina was about to apologize for insulting him when Draco spoke up. “My lover did die in a raid,” he admitted, his voice rough as if he was literally forcing himself to speak. “Many years ago. Her name was Magda … and I helped slaughter the men who killed her and her kin.” He paused then, letting the rumble of the surf intrude. “But that didn’t make me this way. I let Max and Cass think that … because it’s an easy explanation.”
Gavina’s breathing quickened. She leaned forward, her gaze dragging over him. Sitting there, bathed in moonlight, he appeared carved of ice. Yet the pain in his voice betrayed him.
“So, what’s the real reason, Draco?” Suddenly, she wanted to go to him, wanted to sit by him on the log and take his hand in hers. Yet she sensed that wasn’t the right thing to do; he needed this physical distance from her at present.
He let out a heavy sigh. “One hundred and sixty-six years ago, I fell foul of the King of Scotland’s son.” Draco’s voice was odd, brittle, as if the wrong word would shatter him. “His name was Henry, son of King David.”
Gavina didn’t respond. Instead, she slowed her breathing, her fingers clasping the sides of the boat while she waited for him to continue.
>
“I was a guest at Edinburgh castle … and I came upon Henry forcing himself upon a lady. I intervened and made sure I humiliated him at the same time.” Draco heaved in a deep breath then, as if steeling himself, before he continued. “The story should have ended there, but I worsened the situation when I became the woman’s—his betrothed’s—lover. I soon discovered that Henry wasn’t a forgiving man … and when he tried to kill me thrice, and I survived … he discovered my secret.”
Dread closed Gavina’s throat. The edge to his voice now warned her she wasn’t going to enjoy the story that would follow. Yet she didn’t dare interrupt, didn’t dare prevent the words that now flowed out of him.
“I’ve always enjoyed cheating death, Gavina.” How bleak his voice sounded. “It doesn’t matter how many times I die, I never fail to rise with the next dawn. I’ve been thrown off cliffs, burned at the stake, hanged, and chopped into pieces at various times over the centuries. I don’t enjoy the pain of being ‘killed’ … but during my long life, I’ve experienced agony in all its facets.”
Gavina winced at the brutality of his words, but Draco continued, relentless now.
“I should have stayed away from Edinburgh, but I’d grown reckless after losing Magda … and Henry and his bruised pride amused me.” Draco sucked in a deep breath then before slowly releasing it. “One afternoon, he and his men finally caught me again.”
The wind whistled across the beach, catching at the strands of Gavina’s hair that had come free from the braid. Pushing them aside, she waited, her gaze riveted upon the man who sat a few yards distant.
“They dragged me up to the castle and took me to the chapel of Saint Margaret … which had recently been built in honor of the king’s mother. There, Henry revealed a stone tomb under the floor. He buried me alive.”
Gavina’s breathing caught. “How long were ye there?” she asked, dreading the answer.
Draco’s gaze glinted in the moonlight. “One hundred and five years.”
Gavina gasped. “No?”
Draco dragged a hand down his face. “I screamed, begged, and shouted, but to no avail. I clawed and kicked at the stone till my fingers were bloody, till my bones cracked, but no one heard me … no one came to my aid.”
Gavina’s hand went to her throat, horror cloaking her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how awful it had been. Mother Mary, what had the poor man suffered?
And yet, he kept it all in. He’d never told a soul.
“I suffered in that tomb, Gavina,” he said after a pause, his voice cracking. “Thirst takes a man before hunger does … it was slow agony … and I weathered it again and again.”
XXVIII
JUST FOR ONE NIGHT
GAVINA BREATHED AN oath. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs now. She really didn’t want to hear any more of this, and yet she couldn’t stop him. This memory had been poisoning him for too long.
However, Draco now fell silent anyway.
“Why haven’t ye said anything to yer friends?” she asked finally. “Maximus and Cassian would never have judged ye.”
He barked a harsh laugh. “They always wondered why I missed the last coming of the Broom-star, but I told them later I was too busy fighting in a clan-war to join them that year.” His features tensed. “I couldn’t bear to speak of it … to relive it … as I am doing right now.”
Gavina moved then. Rising from the boat, she climbed out and crossed to him, sinking to her knees upon the pebbles before Draco and reaching for his hands. Whenever he’d touched her before, his hands had been warm—yet they were ice-cold now.
“Tell me more, Draco,” she whispered. “Free yerself of it.”
And so he did. Nausea churned in Gavina’s belly as he spoke of the smothering darkness, his tears and despair. “I went mad,” he whispered, his voice a low rasp. “The tomb broke me … but the curse held me together … and forced me to suffer through it.”
Gazing up at him, Gavina saw that his cheeks now gleamed. He was silently weeping.
Her own vision blurred then. It was a terrible thing to see such a strong man cry. She was sorry to make him relive this—but instinct told her it had to be done.
He would never be able to cast off the terrible memories otherwise.
“How did ye get free in the end?” Her voice was husky as she struggled to keep her composure.
“A priest discovered me,” Draco replied, his fingers closing around hers. “He’d been swiving a maid in the castle, and was lying prostrate on the floor, begging for forgiveness from Saint Margaret. With his ear to the pavers, he heard something—the faint whisper of my screams—underneath him.” Draco paused there, his mouth twisting. “Father Macum fetched himself an iron bar and pried up the flagstones, freeing me from my prison.”
“He must have been shocked to find ye?”
“He was … I would’ve been quite a sight to behold.” Draco’s gaze ensnared Gavina’s then. “And there you have it … my ‘secret’. Nessa was right. I have stared into the abyss.”
He released her and closed one of his hands into a fist, which he then pressed against his heart. “Ever since, I’ve been numb here … empty. The only time I feel alive is when I’m killing, or when my opponent’s blade finds it mark and agony takes me.”
Gavina swallowed. “What about when we lay together?” It embarrassed her to ask the question—yet she’d seen the passion on his face, felt the need in his body as he’d taken her. “Did ye feel dead inside then too?”
He stilled, his head inclining as he studied her. “I’ve lain with many women over the years. My body knows how to seek pleasure, even if my soul is arid.”
Heat flushed across Gavina’s cheeks, and she dropped her gaze. So, it hadn’t meant anything to him. An ache rose in her throat.
“Gavina?” He caught her gently under her chin and raised it so that she met his eye once more. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she murmured, bitterness spiraling up within her. “I’m a fool … that’s all.”
“How so?”
Gavina drew in a deep breath. “I only wed ye to help my friends, Draco Vulcan … but those two times we lay together were …” She broke off there, embarrassed and wishing she were anywhere but here. He’d been open with her, had revealed his deepest, darkest secret, yet she struggled to admit this. Tensing, she forced herself to finish the sentence. “They were … special.”
She lapsed into silence then, feeling foolish.
“They were,” he agreed softly. Draco let go of her chin then, the back of his hand tenderly brushing her cheek. “You’ve been lonely, haven’t you?”
A lump rose in her throat, and she nodded.
“Why?”
She tried to raise a smile, but failed. “I was brought up to do my duty … and I did my best. But in the end, I failed. My husband scorned me, and my own brother has now betrayed me. I wanted to build peace between the Irvines and the De Keiths, but from the first night of my union with David De Keith, I realized that I never would.”
Draco’s mouth twisted, even as his hand continued to gently stroke her cheek. His touch made Gavina tremble, as it always had. “De Keith was a prize idiot,” he murmured. “Few men are fortunate enough to find a wife like you.”
Gavina huffed a brittle laugh. “There’s no need to try and save my feelings, Draco. Ye don’t even like me.”
He stilled at that, his gaze searching hers. “Like is too bland a word to describe how I feel about you,” he murmured. “When we first met, you fascinated me … but I told myself that you were proud and disdainful.” His mouth twisted. “A bitter man will do anything to protect himself.”
His words made Gavina pause before answering. The pair of them had clashed from the beginning, but their relationship reached a low point when she’d watched Draco slay that young English soldier. Draco and his band had saved her, Elizabeth, and Aila’s lives, yet the memory of how the soldier had begged for his life still haunted her. “That morning
… on the hills south of Dunnottar,” she began hesitantly. “Ye were unnecessarily brutal.”
“I did that lad a mercy by killing him,” Draco replied. He’d known exactly what she was referring to. “How do you think he’d have fared as a Scottish prisoner? Strung up by his neck on the walls … or left to rot in the dungeon until time or disease took him.”
Gavina stiffened. “But ye were so cold.”
His gaze seized hers, gleaming in the moonlight. “And now you know why.”
Gavina stared up at him. Aye, she did.
Sighing, she sat back on her heels, her gaze sweeping around the deserted beach. It was lovely out here, surrounded by the rhythmic rumble of surf and the whispering wind.
And as the moments drew out, longing rose within Gavina. She shifted her attention back to Draco, to find him watching her. Wordlessly, she reached out, her fingers tracing his stubbled cheek. “Dawn is many hours away,” she whispered, gathering her strength yet again. “We have time.”
He inclined his head, his gaze boring into her.
Gavina swallowed and pressed on before her courage failed her. “Lie with me again, Draco,” she whispered. “Just for one night … cast the world and all yer worries aside.”
He stared at her, his breathing catching. Clearly, he hadn’t expected such bold words. When he spoke, his voice was husky. “This doesn’t change anything, Gavina,” he murmured. “One night won’t shatter the curse.”
“I know,” she replied, moving closer to him, her fingers exploring the chiseled line of his jaw. “But it will keep reality at bay … if only for a little while.”
Gavina’s pulse quickened. Nessa’s words earlier had unlocked something within her. It dawned upon her then, as she stared into Draco’s shadowed eyes, that she indeed felt something for him.
Something that frightened her just a little.
Draco didn’t answer her. He merely held Gavina’s gaze, letting her explore the hawkish lines of his face with her fingertips. She could feel the tension vibrating off him.
Emotion boiled within her—a strange kind of possession, a tenderness, that robbed her of breath. It made her want to protect him, made her want to shelter in his arms. It made her want to remain at his side no matter what fate dealt them.
