Garden of Destiny (Dark Gardens Book 4)

by Meara Platt

  “So have I.” He glanced at Georgie, wishing she could see his expression and understand how important it was for her to keep away from the monolith that was powerful enough to manipulate Dragon Lords as though they were mere puppets.

  She was still clinging to his arm as though it was her anchor. He liked that she instinctively turned to him and did not fear him. However, she did not fear the Stone of Draloch either, and that was a mistake on her part. “Georgie–”

  “I know you don’t want me anywhere near that stone, but I think you both place too much importance on its powers. Do you have no free will? Is your destiny unchangeable? If so, why are you bothering to take on Brihann?” She turned to Bloodaxe and spoke with aching gentleness. “And if so, why are you determined to protect me? Of what value is your resolve to save me if you have no power over my fate? Perhaps it is not manipulating you so much as it is compelling you to make a choice.”

  “It cannot be as simple as that,” Mordain said, but he was clearly intrigued by Georgiana, which explained why he was here now. Bloodaxe knew that he had come to help her and would be true to his word. Indeed, Bloodaxe was glad for the assistance. However, this was not the reason Mordain had come looking for them. No, Mordain was here because Georgiana had a pure heart. In the Underworld, this was a thing of fascination.

  He and Mordain were condemned souls and desperate for salvation.

  Georgie was his salvation, he knew it. But that made him all the more determined to protect her. He silently repeated the vow he’d made to himself at first sight of her. He repeated this vow every time he worried for her safety. Too often, for she was constantly in peril. He’d give his life for her. He would never allow her to come to harm to save his soul.

  “Lord Mordain,” she said, no doubt about to argue with the formidable red dragon about the power of love, but her thoughts were interrupted as their boats suddenly began to rock violently.

  Georgie gasped and clung to him with both hands. “What’s happening?”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Bloody damned selkies. Hold tight, Georgie. We’re about to go into the water.”

  *

  Georgiana wanted to scream, but managed to hold on to a shred of composure. She took a deep breath as their boat suddenly surged upward and then flipped over, tossing both of them head first into the black depths. All she felt was panic. It didn’t matter that Lord Bloodaxe held her in his vise-like grip. Nor did the knowledge that he would drown along with her rather than ever let her go alleviate her fear.

  She did not know how to swim.

  And now she was in deep water with no idea how far it was to the bottom.

  Not that she expected Lord Bloodaxe to let her drown. He wouldn’t. Thank goodness. But these creatures were circling around them and she could feel their menace. Lord Bloodaxe couldn’t fight them while he held onto her.

  What were selkies? She’d heard of them in Irish tales and thought they were seals who changed into human form. They seemed harmless enough in myth. But this was the Underworld and nothing was harmless here.

  Did the selkies have sharp teeth? Did they bite?

  The water was warm, unlike the cold waters in the lakes near Penrith, but that gave her little comfort. One of the selkies bumped hard against her leg. The urge to scream rose in her throat, but she suppressed it. She was still sinking and couldn’t risk her lungs filling with water if she dared to open her mouth.

  Air.

  She needed air.

  Her lungs began to sear with pain, a slow, fiery burn that spread outward into her limbs. She flailed her arms and struggled to kick her feet that were now entangled in weeds. Was she close to the river bottom? She tried to push upward, but to no avail.

  Just as her lungs were about to burst, Lord Bloodaxe put his mouth on hers and breathed air into her. She silently cried in relief. However, the breath of life he’d given her would not sustain her for more than a minute.

  Her lungs were still on fire.

  Another selkie bumped into her with the force of a battering ram.

  The pain no longer mattered. Her head was spinning and her body was being sucked into a whirlpool, dragged downward, ever downward so that she had no hope of ever taking another breath.

  Was this how her life was to end?

  It simply couldn’t, for she had yet to save Lord Bloodaxe. He was Arik. Her Arik. She had to make it out of the water alive. But how? She was about to lose consciousness.

  Lord Bloodaxe pressed his mouth to hers again, and in the next moment, she was shoved upward in a powerful surge. Suddenly, she was no longer underwater.

  Air.

  She took great, gasping buckets full of it into her starved lungs. She gasped and coughed and her head was spinning, but the warm, clammy air felt delicious against her cheeks. She was alive. Lord Bloodaxe still held her securely while he brushed back the clumps of her wet hair that clung to her brow and cheeks. “Easy, my beauty. You’re safe.”

  She nodded and tried to assure him that she was all right, but all that spilled from her lips was a muffled sob amid her ragged breaths. Selkies still circled them and bumped insistently hard against them. Her legs and hips would be bruised, but it was nothing to her near drowning. “Get me out of the water,” she pleaded, clinging tightly to his shoulders and shivering with fright.

  Wordlessly, he began to swim her to shore. She calmed as his powerful strokes drew them away from those frenzied selkies. That he remained calm managed to quiet her panic, but her heart was still pounding and her head was in a dizzying whirl. “We’ve lost everything but your battle axe.” She felt that hard weapon in its sheath that was pressing against her leg. “Your crossbow is lost, the arrows as well. We have no food. No boat.”

  “But you’re alive. Do you think I care about anything else?” He lifted her into his arms when they neared the shore and the water was no longer over their heads. He carried her onto the grassy bank and set her down on a soft patch. But he did not settle beside her. “Mordain is dragging the boats to shore. I’m going to retrieve the crossbow and arrows. I know where they went down.”

  He dove back into those inky depths before she could stop him. Not that she intended to do anything of the sort. The weapons were important to him, and she’d been enough of a burden to him already. Indeed, she’d never felt so helpless or useless. What would she have done if he’d left her to fend for herself in the water?

  She didn’t want to think of it.

  The sky was still black. Darkness surrounded her and an ominous silence filled the air. She understood how someone who was blind and deaf might feel, for she could not see to the tip of her nose or hear a sound, not even Lord Bloodaxe’s powerful strokes as he cut through the water. Nor could she hear the selkies that had to be circling around him. She could not even hear Lord Mordain bringing the two boats to shore.

  She took more air into her lungs and released it with a loud, rasping cough that could be heard across the wide river.

  She closed her eyes to calm herself.

  Every moment she was apart from Lord Bloodaxe felt like an eternity. But it could not have been more than a minute or two before she heard the faint sound of someone wading in the water. Then she heard the quiet rumble of male laughter and realized both men were coming out of the water together.

  Georgiana rose on wobbly feet. “Are the boats salvaged?”

  Lord Bloodaxe responded. “Boats, crossbow, and arrows, all retrieved. Food is gone though.”

  “So are my bollocks,” Lord Mordain grumbled as he dragged the boats up onto the bank. “Damned selkies are in heat. It’s mating season for them. They kept coming at me like battering rams aimed straight between my legs. I vow if they try it one more time, I’m going to turn them into toads.”

  “They caught me a time or two,” Lord Bloodaxe said, commiserating.

  “Lady Georgiana shielded you from the worst of it. My parts are still rattling.” He sighed. “But let’s see what is to be done about your boat.
Damned selkies put a hole in it. We could fix it with magic.”

  “No,” Bloodaxe responded immediately. “Brihann will be upon us in an instant. But using your magic is not a bad idea. We just need to be clever about it.”

  “What’s your plan?” Mordain asked.

  “I must get Georgie close to the Razor Cliffs undetected. You can help by leaving us.”

  Mordain snorted and then eyed her with renewed interest. “That’s your plan? Keeping her all to yourself. Can’t blame you.”

  Lord Bloodaxe ignored the quip. “Once far enough away from us, start leaving traces of your magic about my realm to keep Brihann and his scouts distracted, searching in all the wrong places for us.”

  “Not a bad plan. I suppose it will amuse me for a few days. How long do you think you’ll need to reach the Razor Cliffs?”

  “Two days at least. We’ll be traveling on foot. Meet us there at the setting of the moons on the third day.”

  Georgiana remained quiet as the two Dragon Lords discussed their plans. The sky was beginning to lighten and she knew Lord Mordain would soon be on his way. But as it lightened, she was able to see his face quite clearly and was surprised by the handsomeness of his features. Dark hair, firm jaw, and nice bone structure, but his eyes were a reddish gray, like burning embers.

  Fires of hell.

  Lord Bloodaxe had told her that this Dragon Lord was a spawn of the devil. He had not been in jest.

  The two of them slapped each other on the back with thumping pounds. “Very well. I’ll see you in three days’ time. Keep your Chosen One safe. She may be small and female, but I think she has the bollocks to take on the Stone of Draloch.”

  He returned to his undamaged boat, pushed it back into the water that was no longer black but the dusky gray of morning, and stretched his large frame across the bench. Lord Bloodaxe watched him drift downstream and then turned to her as the small craft disappeared around the bend of the shoreline.

  He ran a hand raggedly across the nape of his neck and cast her a wincing smile. “Our boat is in ruins, we’ve lost our food, we’re nowhere near our destination, and our clothes are soaking wet.”

  She smiled in response. “True, but we’re still alive.”

  He stepped close and cupped her cheek in his large palm. “Life will be quite dull around here without you, my beauty.”

  He was the one who insisted on her leaving. She knew he was right, but it didn’t lessen the deepening sorrow she carried in her heart. They belonged together, a fact that he refused to consider. “I need to remove my gown and let it dry,” she said, carefully wringing the excess water out of the soggy fabric that had now grown so heavy, she felt as though she were dragging anchors. “You need to do the same with your shirt.”

  He laughed with genuine mirth. “Always trying to get me out of my shirt, aren’t you?”

  She blushed. “Nothing of the sort. Catch a nasty cold for all I care.”

  He grinned. “There’s a cottage not far from here. I use it on occasion when I travel through my realm. It’s for my use alone. More of a hut, really.”

  He strode to the boat, dragged it onto the grassy bank, and hid it behind a row of shrubs and tall grasses. Once well out of view, he used a tree branch to sweep away all trace that anyone had stopped there. “We can’t build a fire. Too dangerous.”

  She merely nodded, too ashamed to reveal her thoughts. They didn’t need a fire. They had sparks enough between them to kindle all the heat they’d need. More than enough to keep each other warm in a raging blizzard.

  “How do you feel, Georgie? Can you walk?” He took her hand and squeezed it lightly.

  She dismissed her wayward thoughts and nodded again. “I’ll keep up.”

  About twenty minutes had elapsed before they reached the cottage, a small and simple wood structure that blended with their forest surroundings. A casual passerby would have to look closely to notice it, assuming anyone ever strayed this far.

  Georgiana was too tired to muster much cheer by the time Lord Bloodaxe opened the door and ushered her inside. “Not much to see, but it has a kitchen, bedchamber, and a sturdy roof.”

  Her near drowning had taken more out of her than she cared to admit. All she wanted to do was remove her wet gown and camisole, set them out to dry, and then fall into a sound sleep.

  The kitchen had a table and chairs with a bedchamber the size of a horse stall behind it. The bedding appeared to be clean and the two blankets they found were in good condition.

  However, there was no edible food, only an old tin box that contained biscuits they dared not eat, and a wooden cask that held barely enough ale to fill the one cup they’d found in the cupboard. “Take off your boots and clothes and I’ll set them by the window to dry. Wrap one of the blankets around you, Georgie. I’ll see if I can hunt down some food for us.”

  Her eyes rounded in alarm. “You won’t go far?”

  “No, my beauty. I won’t go far.” He spoke with gentle assurance. “Get out of that wet gown before you catch a chill.”

  At her nod, he helped her to untie the lacings that were soaked and knotted. Once she was able to slip out of the gown without his help, he bent his head toward her as though about to kiss her. She closed her eyes and tipped her head upward, but he must have decided against giving her a kiss, for he pulled away and strode out of the bedchamber instead.

  Disappointed, she moved slowly, now feeling the bruises on her hips and thighs where the selkies had butted their heads into her. She stripped out of her gown and camisole, but kept her boots on, for the floor was not clean and the thought of walking upon it in her bare feet was not to be considered. After inspecting her body and noting the purplish bruising starting to form on her pale skin, she wrapped herself in one of the blankets and walked into the kitchen to spread her clothes over the chairs beside the window.

  It took only a moment to accomplish the task. She yawned and returned to the tiny bedchamber, eager to sink onto the small bed.

  She kicked off her boots and set them to one side.

  She meant to stay awake while awaiting Lord Bloodaxe’s return, but her eyelids were as heavy as anvils. She fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. She wasn’t certain how long she’d slept, but the creak of a chair pierced her dreams and brought her sharply awake.

  She sat up and looked around, her heart in her throat as she began to panic.

  “It’s only me, Georgie. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Lord Bloodaxe was seated in a chair beside her, preparing to remove his soaked boots. He studied her as she first fussed with her blanket to secure it around her body and then hastily rubbed her eyes to wipe the sleep from them.

  She released the breath she had been holding, her gaze now fixed on him. He’d taken off his wet shirt, revealing that magnificent warrior’s body that she never tired of gawking at. But he’d kept his trousers on, as though that alone would lend propriety to their situation.

  She shook her head. “In truth, I slept lightly. My hair’s wet and I’m awkwardly tucked in a blanket. I’m hungry and still feel like a drowned water rat.”

  His seductive smile suggested he found her much more appealing than she’d described. But she knew he wasn’t going to do anything about it. He kept his boots on and stood. “I found us some food. Care to eat?”

  She nodded.

  “Stay in bed. I’ll bring it to you.” His voice was warm and indulgent.

  Food and him beside her? Suddenly, this cottage felt like heaven. She dismissed the wayward thought, for he’d never think this place was anything more than a convenient shelter. “What did you find?” she asked as he turned to leave and she saw the magnificent black dragon with its blue underbelly drawn on his back.

  He laughed lightly. “Sausage fruit. I came upon an open field and found one tree growing in the center of it. This fruit won’t taste like the sausages you’re used to eating, of course. But it will sustain us for the day.”

  “A feast fit for a king. You won�
��t hear me complain.” She fussed with her blanket once more, trying to keep it tucked around her body, but it seemed to be an impossible task. She was not quite certain how to manage eating while holding up the blanket to protect her modesty. If anything was to be sacrificed, it would be her modesty, she decided. “Have you eaten?”

  He nodded. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I decided not to wake you. So, I ate first and then came in here. I was going to take the other blanket and stretch out on the floor.”

  She frowned. “After all you’ve done for me, do you think I’d deny you this bed? It’s big enough for the two of us to share.”

  He snorted. “Georgie, look at me. I’m twice the size of you. I’d squash you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. I could rest quite comfortably if you wrapped me in your arms.”

  “Forget it. I’m not taking you into my arms while you’re naked beneath that thin blanket. That very thin blanket.” He muttered something unintelligible under his breath. “Forget it. Not going to happen.”

  He stormed out of the room and she heard the clatter of plates and the thwack of his axe as he must have practically cleaved the table in half while cutting more sausage fruit. He gave the fruit another mighty thwack that cracked wood.

  She was unsettling him. Good, it was about time he admitted that this connection between them was more powerful than any force determined to keep them apart. If that dark force succeeded, she wanted to have more of him than a few restrained kisses.

  All of a sudden, her senses perked.

  She strained to hear him moving about the kitchen, but heard not a sound.

  Drat, had he walked out? Even when overset, he had the uncanny ability to remain silent. She closed her eyes and held her breath, continuing to listen in the hope of catching the squeak of a booted footstep. Nothing.