“Aye, my name’s Cray.” He looked her over again, if possible, even more boldly this time. His self-confidence was palpable, his turbulent emotions dangerously close to the surface. “Cray MacLeod.”
“I’m Chloe,” she managed, edging closer to Aidan without realizing it. “And yeah, I’m a Broun.”
Striking her very much a predator, Cray inhaled as if pulling in her scent from across the room. “But you are not a dragon.”
“Not that I’m aware.”
Cray contemplated that. “Dragons dinnae always end up with dragons.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, not sure where he was going with that.
“His point,” Aidan grumbled, though his lips didn’t move. “Is that you could be meant for him.”
“What the,” she whispered, confused. Why had she just thought that? With Aidan’s voice no less?
Aidan scowled and sighed before his expression smoothed, and he appeared resolved. “’Twas me within your mind, lass.” He shot Cray a territorial look and stated the obvious. “Chloe and I are connecting telepathically.”
Come again? “Telepathically?”
“Aye, ‘tis how MacLomains and Brouns know they are meant for each other,” Aidan replied, not looking her way.
“Or at least ‘twas before Julie became part of all this,” Cray countered, having no such issue looking at her. “Now, we are not certain if it means what it once did.”
“It does,” Aidan bit out, sounding a bit too possessive, considering he was determined to never love again. But then she imagined this had more to do with Cray than her.
She swallowed hard and looked out the window, trying not to show how much Aidan's aversion to being in love again bothered her. She’d just met the guy so she shouldn’t care. Yet she did and knew why. She hadn’t truly moved on from what her ex had done to her. It had left her raw. Vulnerable. No doubt a little insecure when it came to the opposite sex.
“What are you doing here, Cray?” Aidan was once again cordial. As if he weren’t in an emotional tug-of-war with his cousin.
“Adlin requested I join you whilst Julie and Tiernan see to the stones in Ireland,” Cray replied, seemingly just as cordial though his posture said otherwise. “They will join us eventually.” He tossed a satchel on the bed. “Clothing was sent along for the lass.”
Ah, very good. Though she really did like her current attire.
“So, you were able to time travel without issue?” Aidan asked at the same time Chloe said, “You mean the Irish Stonehenge we all dreamt about? The one Adlin was conceived at in a previous life?”
“Aye,” Cray responded before speaking to Aidan, disgruntled. “My magic wanes more by the day, and my dragon remains repressed. I was able to travel here using one of Julie’s ley-lines because it led to you.”
When Aidan looked at him in confusion, he continued.
“It seems we have a line connecting us, Cousin,” Cray revealed. “One that will allow me to aid you on your journey.”
Aidan’s brow arched. A frown tugged at his mouth. “The others dinnae have such a line to me, then?”
“Nay.” Cray appeared equally unsettled. “Tiernan can travel with Julie to wherever we are, but I am the only other pulled your way at this time.”
She tilted her head in question. “Pulled his way?”
“Aye, Julie describes it as a vacuum affect between Aidan and me,” Cray explained. “She suspects it formed when he first joined up with you.”
Aidan frowned. “A vacuum affect?”
“Aye, she and Adlin feel ‘tis a draw betwixt us that will ultimately help you protect wee David.” Though clearly uncomfortable continuing, Cray went on. “An unresolved issue of sorts, according to Adlin. One that we must overcome for you to see through your quest.”
“That makes sense,” she muttered before she could stop herself. When they looked at her, she shrugged. “Well, it does. Just look at the friction between you guys over a woman who sadly enough isn’t even here anymore.”
“There isnae any friction,” Aidan replied a smidge too dutifully.
“Not yet,” Cray agreed, looking her over again, evidently referring to her now rather than Maeve.
“Get changed, Chloe, then join us in the hallway.” Aidan gestured at the satchel, ignoring Cray’s innuendo, not allowing him to rile him up. “We must join Robert Bruce.”
Just like that, the men switched modes, and talk of women vanished.
By all appearances, they got along well enough, but she sensed discord simmering beneath the surface. Did they sense it, though? Or were they in denial? Because Aidan, while he seemed fine, definitely wasn’t. Like she had sensed in the hallway, his reality was dwindling down to a cold, lonely place made up of memories he refused to let go of.
As she soon learned, because she was ‘married’ to Aidan, she rode a horse with him as they traveled. The summer day was overcast and gusty, and the scent of incoming rain lingered in the air. They rode alongside Robert for a while, as requested, and all went well. While he often glanced her way curiously, he spoke to her very little, as his conversations were primarily with Aidan and Cray.
Eventually, he rode with his men, and she and Aidan fell back. Cray headed more toward the front. Though she and Aidan had shared a few tense moments back at the castle, he’d since reverted to being a gentleman, pointing out various things along the way. For all intents and purposes, he was the perfect tour guide.
She couldn’t help but wonder, though, if he wasn’t trying to get out ahead of the endless questions she was sure to have about her surroundings. The woodland, people, just about everything, sparked her curiosity. Who could blame her? She was in another time and place. Luckily, his passion for his country was obvious, so she was kept well entertained, and her curiosity satiated.
She truly enjoyed chatting with him, and if she didn’t know better, he enjoyed chatting with her too. Typically, people sort of got a glazed look in their eyes after she asked too many questions, but not Aidan. If anything, he seemed to welcome them. Could she, in some small way, be expanding his world once again? Helping him get out of his own head, so to speak?
Unfortunately, her questions inevitably turned to more pressing matters, and she swore she felt him retract back into himself. Nonetheless, she pressed on. She needed to know what the immediate future held beyond faery Godmother moments and angry dragon shifters who came on too strong. What could she expect over the next few days? What would meeting King David be like?
Then, of course, the scary questions.
“So, this evil Irish brotherhood can possess anyone at any time?” She spoke softer now so others couldn’t hear them. “That’s why the first regent died? Because he was possessed?”
“Aye.” His tone was grave when it whispered through her mind. “And because I killed him.”
Though she initially stilled at his admission, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder at him. She needed to see the look on his face. The look in his eyes. It was an instinct she didn’t quite understand until their eyes met, and she felt his multi-layered misery as if it were her own.
While she knew he was tempted to drag his gaze from her, he didn’t. Rather, he allowed her to see his pain. Either that, or she saw past his barriers. It was hard to know. What she did know, however, was that he had done what he had to do, and she said as much.
Or better yet, thought as much.
She had intended to whisper, but an odd sensation washed over her, and apparently, she spoke telepathically instead.
“Regent Thomas Randolph had to die when he did,” she said. “You did what you had to do for your country, Aidan.”
A mixture of emotions flashed in his eyes before his expression smoothed, and he stated the obvious. “You just spoke telepathically.”
Where it had startled her before, this time hearing him speak within the mind had a more sensual affect. It was hard to describe other than to say it was definitely arousing and very personal. Not on
ly that, but she felt strangely exposed. Connected to someone in a way she never had been before.
Worse yet, immersed in the sadness of another.
“I did speak telepathically, didn’t I?” she whispered, thrilled at the initial sensation but not quite ready for more of it at the moment.
The truth was she felt a little winded, so she turned back.
“Are you all right, lass?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she murmured, suddenly feeling like she had when she first slid her Claddagh ring on. Strange and exhausted.
She wanted to keep trying to convince him not to blame himself for Regent Thomas’ death, but she was too wiped. So tired, in fact, that she started to doze off then jolted awake.
“What the...” she exclaimed.
She no longer sat on the horse but stood in the center of a huge circle of stones. A light layer of fog drifted around the monoliths. The silence was deafening.
Yet she wasn't alone.
Someone drew closer.
“Who’s there?” she called out, her voice echoing far and wide.
Nobody answered.
Alarmed, she turned around and around again, with watchful eyes, positive someone was coming.
Close, closer, closer still.
Then nothing.
Yet something was there.
Just ahead.
Next to the closest stone.
Then further out.
Curious, she followed, swearing she caught a glimpse of a skirt around a rock. A woman’s breathing. Soft crying.
“Maeve?” She pursued the mystery woman. “Is that you? Can you hear me?”
She had never believed in ghosts, but now she wondered. How could she not when Maeve seemed to be here despite being dead? She wished she could remember more about her conversation with the woman in her dreams. What she had shared. But it was as elusive as who she followed through the fog now.
“Come back to me,” whispered on a sudden breeze. “Come back to me so we can be together for all time.”
She frowned, unsure why she heard words meant for Aidan.
Until that is, Aidan raced past her into the woodland, summoned by the very request she had just heard.
Chapter Eight
“CRAY AND I were once friends too,” Maeve said softly as they walked through the woodland of his memory. “And there was once a time...”
This was the first time he had seen her since she told him she loved Cray as well. He had thought mayhap her declaration meant she wanted to be with his cousin, yet here she was, wanting to be with him too. Both of them it seemed which would never work. Not in this day and age. Not in any era as far as he was concerned. Where Cray enjoyed various lasses at once, Aidan preferred just one.
This one.
She was supposed to have become his wife. Raise his children. Stand by his side in all things. Now? None of that seemed possible.
Yet he wasn’t turning her away. He wasn’t giving up.
“There was once a time, what?” he prompted when she trailed off.
Her eyes lingered on his for a moment before she responded.
“There was once a time I thought I loved him, Aidan,” she said softly. “And now I know I was right...I think some part of me always knew.”
He shook his head, certain she was wrong. Cray must have wooed her as he was want to do with lasses. She backed away, then turned and fled, leaving him with no chance to convince her she was wrong. That mayhap this was simply fear of finally settling down.
So he chased after her to remind her of what they had.
Daylight turned to nighttime. Darkness turned to fog and stones. Still, he pursued, drawn to her whispered words on the wind.
“Come back to me,” she called out. “Come back to me so we can be together for all time.”
“Aidan, stop!” a woman cried, her voice desperate and far away at first until it grew closer and closer.
He knew that voice. How though? He couldn’t quite recall.
“Aidan, it’s me, Chloe,” she screamed into his mind. “You have to stop right now!”
That got through, and he stopped short.
A blink later, the dark woodland vanished, and it was once again daytime. Light rain fell, and he teetered dangerously close to the sheer drop off of a cliff. Had he taken one more step, he would have fallen to his death.
“Oh, thank God,” Chloe gasped from behind, breathing heavily as though she’d been running too. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
Frightened for him, obviously not concerned that they hadn’t known each other long, she flung her arms around him and held on tight. Almost as if she tried to hold him back from the brink of death.
Or, in this case, from Maeve.
“But it wasn’t her, was it?” he whispered, baffled. He looked into the woodland, instinctually resting his arms around Chloe. “She was never here.”
“No, I don’t think so,” she murmured, trembling. She rested her cheek against his chest. “But someone was...something.”
“’Tis all right, lass.” He cupped the back of her head in comfort as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do. “Whatever it was is gone now.”
“I hope so.” She released a shaky sigh. “Because I swear I still feel it.”
“’Tis your magic.” He was convinced he was right. “’Tis sensing the residual energy of what just happened. The residue of whatever just haunted us.”
Chloe lifted her head and met his eyes. “How can you be so sure? Can you...feel my magic?” She swallowed hard. “Because I can’t...I don’t think.”
“Aye, I feel it.” Like sunshine on his face. “And you will too, lass.”
Her eyes seemed to sparkle with that very sunlight, drawing him closer to something long lost to him. Something far too dangerous. Yet he didn’t pull away.
Instead, he kept his eyes with hers, and his senses came alive.
He brushed the pad of his thumb along her jawline, as aware of her soft skin as he was of her silky hair. He inhaled her sweet scent and felt her gentle curves against him.
The exquisite moment seemed suspended in time, almost part of an otherworld. Not made of the here and now. She appeared ethereal. Different. Not truly here. Gone someplace else just like Maeve. Terror flashed through him before warmth washed over him, and his suddenly racing heart calmed. Yet the sensation that she might not really be here unsettled him enough that he pulled away.
Moments later, Cray appeared out of the woodland on his horse. “Bloody hell, why did you two veer off like that?”
“Veer off?” Chloe rubbed her arms as if chilled. “I’m not sure.” She looked from Aidan to their horse grazing nearby. “The last thing I remember, Aidan and I were riding alongside everyone else, then I was dreaming, so I assume I fell asleep...” She narrowed her eyes at their surroundings before she looked at Aidan. “You raced by me in the dream, trying to get to Maeve—”
“Maeve?” Cray frowned. “I dinnae ken.”
“’Twas not really Maeve,” Aidan said softly, sure of it. “But the Disinherited trying to lure me...kill me.”
“Och.” Cray scowled at the sharp drop nearby before his troubled gaze landed on Aidan. “They’d have you leap to your death, then?”
“Aye,” he confirmed, noting that it was later in the day now. “How long ago did we veer off course?”
“A few hours ago,” Cray replied. “We should catch up with everyone by nightfall.”
He nodded and helped Chloe onto the horse before swinging up behind her. Cray hadn’t been riding alongside them earlier, so he must have questioned the others. A conclusion Chloe came to as well.
“So we were seen riding off by ourselves?” she asked Cray as he rode alongside them. “Didn’t people wonder why?”
“Nay, ‘tis not uncommon for those traveling in retinues like this to take time to themselves for necessary reasons.” His gaze darkened as though he sensed something. “I knew that was not the case, though.”
<
br /> She cocked her head. “How did you know?”
“I am dragon.” He glanced at her as though he should not need to explain such. “Even with our magic waning and our inner beasts repressed, our instincts are untouchable.”
Naturally, with that statement, Chloe had more questions, and the two began chatting about dragons. As they did, Aidan thought about what had just happened, which inevitably led to thoughts of Maeve and Chloe. How the Disinherited seemed to be using Maeve against him, which ironically enough pushed Chloe closer. It was safe to say he was vulnerable when it came to Maeve, so he would have to remain vigilant. They sensed she was his weakness. He would choose her over Chloe if given the chance.
That, he realized, was at the root of this.
He must not be lured so easily. He needed to remember that Maeve was gone at least for now and not be tricked so easily. Yet he hadn't been in the end, had he? Rather he had found clarity in Chloe's voice. Her strength.
Which brought his mind back to the lass in front of him.
Never were two women more different than Chloe and Maeve. Outside of her love for two men, Maeve had typically been content with the world being the way it was. She rarely questioned anything but accepted things as they were.
Now he wondered if she should have questioned more.
If he should have too.
Because things had weighed on his mind.
Why was she not content loving one man? What unsettled her soul enough to need more than one? What had he done wrong? It always came back to that. Why was he not enough?
When ‘why wasn’t I enough?’ whispered through his mind as if an echo, he instinctually wrapped his arm a little tighter around Chloe's waist. That had been her thought. For a moment, she’d been thinking the same thing as him. Suffered from the same pain. Had gone down a similar road.
The sound of her in his mind, whether speaking or thinking, was as all-consuming in its warmth as gazing into her eyes. Hearing her thoughts laced with such sadness, though, brought out a surprisingly strong protective side in him.
A Scot's Devotion (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era, #2) Page 5
