Forever Doon

by Carey Corp

  “What do you mean?”

  A furrow appeared above his left brow. “Whether ye want to revoke our Completing.”

  My heart slammed painfully in my chest. His words confirmed my worst fears that the rift between us couldn’t be mended. “You mean end our Calling?”

  “Aye. As the chosen queen, the completion of our Callin’ makes me a king. Which I am no’ sure I deserve.”

  I swallowed, hard. The thought had occurred to me in my worst moments of doubt. “Jamie—”

  “She made me do things, Verranica.” He shoved his face into mine, then pulled back and raked the damp hair off his forehead. “Nay, tha’s wrong. She didna force me to do anythin’.”

  I gripped his arms. “I don’t care what she did to you, or made you do.”

  The grief tightening his eyes fissured my heart. “Dinna assume . . . just hear me out.”

  I nodded, my throat squeezing closed.

  He took a deep breath and then began, his voice barely a whisper. “When Adelaide recaptured me, she figured out I would make a better weapon alive than dead. But she knew with the protection afforded by the fealty, she could no longer control my mind wi’ magic, so she tried to break me.”

  He jerked his gaze away and I clasped his hand beneath the water.

  Without looking at me, he continued. “She chained me in the antechamber off the throne room and had Sean MacNa—” His words cut off and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “Had Sean MacNally beat me to within an inch of my life, and then she would swoop in like Satan’s angel and heal me. Only to have Sean return and beat me again, so that she could heal my wounds. This cycle went on for days, weeks . . . I’m no’ sure, but at some point, I began to anticipate her arrival like a starving man craves meat.”

  He shook his head, his fingers tightening around mine. “But I refused to show her my weakness. Through prayer, and memories o’ you, I was able to resist her efforts to condition me . . . to make me inta her monster. That’s when she burned the ouroboros into my skin. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt.”

  His throat contracted as he swallowed. “She moved me to the dungeon after that. I tried to escape. But Sean . . . he . . . came back before I could. I could see in his eyes that he’d lost his mind. I tried to reason wi’ him and I thought it was workin’. He remembered things from our childhood—things he was still angry about. He didn’t appear to be enthralled. But I think Adelaide’s obsession with me drove him to the edge, and he stabbed me.”

  I started, my muscles tensing as I searched his face.

  Refusing to look at me, Jamie withdrew his hand from mine and leaned his elbows on his knees. “I had to defend myself. So I took him down. Wrapped my chains around his neck and drove him to his knees.” Lost in memories, he shook his head. “I’d beaten him. He was barely conscious. But I . . . I pulled the blade from my own side . . . and with Adelaide’s encouragement . . . slit Sean’s throat.” He dropped his head into his hands.

  He’d committed murder. That witch had driven my noble prince to do the unthinkable. I reached over and rubbed his back in slow circles. “Jamie, no one would blame you. He’d tortured you for weeks. He tried to kill you first.”

  “It’s just, I thought I was better than that . . . my ma raised me to temper my power with mercy. To live by a code of honor. But I learned I’m worse than Sean was. I murdered one of our people, Vee.” His eyes shifted to mine, their dark anguish cutting into my soul.

  “It’s war, Jamie. We do what we have to. I killed at least two of those guards on the mountain path.”

  He sat up and turned to me. Beads of moisture dotted his skin, mixing with his sweat and the tears leaking from his eyes. “But Sean didn’t disintegrate. He was still a man. Still had his soul, and I took it from him.”

  “You don’t know that—he pledged to the witch. We don’t know what that did to him.”

  As if he hadn’t heard me, he said, “There’s more.”

  I nodded. Ready to hear it all—every horrible thing he’d buried that was cutting at his insides like a dull knife.

  “I was moved to a bedchamber, given clean clothes and food. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw your face. You were the only thing keepin’ me sane. And then ye were there.”

  I waited. Confused.

  “Or I thought it was you, until . . . I kissed her.”

  “Kissed her?” Chills swept over my arms and I began to shake.

  “Aye. She wore your body. Spoke wi’ your voice. But when our lips met, I knew . . . She begged me to join her, ta rule by her side. And for a fraction of a second, I considered it—if only to gain her trust and infiltrate her confidence. But I knew I didna dare.”

  I rubbed my chilled arms and then dipped them into the heated water, emotions battling for control inside of me—rage, jealousy, fear, and sorrow. The witch had taken my form and touched Jamie. Kissed him. Tried to seduce him to her side, and she’d almost succeeded.

  Jamie let out a deep sigh. “Ye should know, she imagines herself in love wi’ me.”

  I clasped my hands and stared at their wavering image beneath the water. “That much I know.”

  “How?”

  “In my dreams, she’s claimed you as her own. But I think it’s less about love and more about destroying me. Ever since I thwarted her plan with the journal and outwitted her by using the ring to save you and take the throne, she’s seen me as her greatest obstacle.”

  I paused and after a moment raised my eyes to his beloved face. “When I believed you dead, it almost killed me. There were moments I knew I wouldn’t survive without you. Eventually, I found my strength in the Protector and decided to honor you by becoming the queen you always knew I could be. But if she stole your heart from me . . .” I shook my head, the thought filling my eyes with tears. “I fear she’ll come for you before the battle.”

  He clasped both my hands, his face set in hard lines. “I’ll die before I let her take me again.”

  Our gazes locked, steam rising between us in swirls that reminded me of the time he’d appeared to me in Aunt Gracie’s cottage, the mist stealing him away across the Brig o’ Doon. This time, he wasn’t going anywhere. I wouldn’t let him. I moved closer, so that our knees intertwined. “Jamie, do you really believe that after all we’ve been through, I would abandon our Calling? That I would abandon you?”

  “Vee, I dinna deserve to be by your side. I was tested and I failed. How can I lead Doon when I’ve committed the gravest sin of our faith? If the people knew, they would never trust me. Never follow me.”

  The tears flooding his eyes shattered my heart. And I knew Sofia was right; Addie had done her best to destroy Jamie’s confidence and pull us apart. But her plan would fail. There was no way I was letting him go without a fight.

  I squeezed his hands and forced him to look at me. “Jamie, that’s the witch talking. Everyone falls sometimes. If anything, that makes you more qualified to lead. If you didn’t care, that would be different. But your remorse wipes the slate clean. I forgive you and the Protector has not abandoned you. He rescued you! Brought you back to me.” I clutched his hands tight. “If you let that one mistake stop you from achieving your destiny, then you’ve let Addie win. Doon needs you . . . I need you!”

  His eyes searched my face, tears spiking his lashes. As quick as a blink, he grabbed me and pulled me to his chest. I threw my arms around him and held him with all my strength. “I’m sorry, Vee. I’m so verra sorry.”

  “You said I had to make a choice.” I leaned back and took his face in my hands. “I choose you. I choose our Calling. I will always choose you.” I kissed his mouth and lowered my hands.

  A slow smile spread across his face as he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. “We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand and melting like a snowflake.”

  “I know that quote. Sir Francis Bacon, right?”

  “Aye. Marry me, Verranica. Tonight! Before the moon rises.”

  With deliberation,
he unleashed the dazzling, full-dimpled grin that stole my breath. He wasn’t quite the churro-eating, ball cap-wearing guy I longed to see—we still had a battle to win, after all—but his smile told me his heart was lighter and he was on his way to becoming the confident boy-king I’d fallen head over heels in love with.

  He looped an arm around my waist, and the buoyancy of the water did the work for him as he tugged me onto his lap. His lips brushed my neck, then moved to my jaw, his fingers threading into my hair. “Say yes, love,” he murmured against my ear, sending sparks all the way to my shriveled toes.

  I’d never wanted to say yes to anything more in my life. We needed to take a tangible step to solidify our commitment to each other. But my mind warred with my heart. I scooted back to face him. “I would gladly bind myself to you for eternity, Jamie MacCrae, but we can’t marry in the shadow of evil. And I don’t want to rush to the altar without all of our family and friends.”

  His face fell. “Ye’re right. I couldna marry wi’out my brother by my side.”

  “However . . .” I brushed the scruff on his cheek with my thumb and dropped a quick kiss on his mouth. “The people could use something to lift their spirits. A handfasting ceremony, perhaps?”

  His eyes burned into mine. “Aye. First thing in the morn. I willna face another day without makin’ you mine.”

  I laced my fingers into the damp hair curling against his neck and kissed him until my head spun and the pool practically boiled around us.

  If the witch had sought to drive a wedge between us, she’d failed. Our connection could not be severed, short of death.

  CHAPTER 33

  Mackenna

  Fiona Lockhart folded the slip of paper containing words of love and encouragement written by her husband and tucked it into her bodice. Her hazel eyes glistened with unshed tears as she said, “Fergus is right. We shall be together soon. And when we defeat the witch, all the sacrifice shall be worth the sweet victory.”

  The fierceness of her words reminded me that the petite, strawberry blonde with a smattering of freckles across her button nose was also a Celtic warrior, prepared to fight to the death for her kingdom . . . as we all were. But how many of us on the modern side of the bridge knew anything about battle except in video games, where opportunity for a new life took the finality out of dying?

  I’d witnessed the skellies with my own eyes. They appeared invincible. As of now, we had no idea how to defeat them. How many of us would die trying? And how many, when faced with a seemly unbeatable foe, would run away?

  Fiona’s dainty hand covered mine. “What’s troubling ye, Kenna?”

  “What if I’m not brave enough?” The question spilled out before I could stop it. I knew how important it was for me to put on a courageous face for the sake of our people. It was like being the lead in a show. No matter how unprepared you felt for opening night, the entire cast and crew looked to you to guide them through to the other side. But unlike theater, where a botched performance resulted in a bad review, a botched campaign would eradicate us from the planet.

  Quietly studying me, Fiona waited until I met her empathetic gaze to respond. “You’re one of the bravest people I know. When it comes to following your heart, you’re fearless. Now, what’s got ye in such a state?”

  “You know how Duncan and I told everyone about the skeleton army that Addie’s raising?”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, they’re protected by Addie’s magic. They appear invincible.” I explained about Duncan’s futile attack on the skellie, how he was thrown through the air and knocked unconscious.

  “And?”

  “And? How do we stop something that can’t be defeated? What if we all die trying?”

  Fiona made a noise of disapproval. “Mackenna Reid. The good Protector dinna call forth a Destined army just to lead us to the slaughter. He dinna bring you and a queen from Indiana just to have you fail.”

  “Why did he call us, then?”

  “Fer the same reason he chose Cheska, Ezekiel, Jerimiah, and the others—to have ye stand with him. Make no mistake, you’ve been called to be Doonians. You’re one of us and we’re his. The Protector already has a plan in motion that will end in triumph.”

  I shook my head in frustration. “But Vee and I were right there, on the edge of the field. It was the perfect chance to destroy those creatures before they could do any damage. We tried to use our rings, but they wouldn’t work. We even appealed to the Protector and nothing happened.” I huffed, knowing that I sounded like a spoiled kindergartner but unable to stop myself. “It would’ve been so much easier if the rings had just zapped the skellies.”

  I expected more lecturing, but instead Fiona challenged in a gentle voice, “When has this journey ever been easy? The Protector’s ways are not always our ways. Events may not happen the way we think they should, but they will always work out for our best if we have faith.”

  “But the newcomers, some of them are just kids. They’re not soldiers. No matter how much they train, they’re not ready to fight a supernatural war.”

  Fiona squeezed my hand. “I’ve seen Duncan do a lot more with a worse lot.”

  Duncan had taken a small group into Glasgow to get supplies for Oliver’s explosives. At the suggestion of a blue-haired girl from Vancouver, they were also picking up nylon rope, fishing line, and duct tape. Her idea—and it was a good one—was to set traps in the tree lines that didn’t appear to be threats, like trip lines and sticky barriers, in hopes that the skellies would walk right into them and destroy themselves. But a good idea didn’t make us warriors.

  “I promise ye, Kenna. When this is over and we’re standin’ on the other side, you’ll see how everythin’ worked out exactly as it should’ve and better than anything ye could’ve asked for.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so.”

  She was right. I had to trust that the Protector wouldn’t lead us into a bloodbath. Regardless of how we got here, the path would lead us to a final showdown with Adelaide Blackmore Cadell. Too much had happened to believe we would not win. That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be casualties. Some would surrender their lives for the sake of the cause. Fiona was prepared to do so—so were Duncan and Jamie and Fergus. So was Vee . . . and I was as well.

  But that battle was in the future. Right now, in this moment, I needed to cherish my life and the people in it, especially one thick-headed ogre who had traveled across worlds more than once to find me.

  CHAPTER 34

  Jamie

  The morn dawned in an eruption of larks heralding the new day. Clouds, like flames shooting across the sky, filled the landscape with brilliant hues. Each sound, each color, moved over my skin like a master painter’s brush on canvas. The overall portrait was one of joy, almost as if Doon rejoiced along with us.

  Our ceremony was set to begin within the hour, with a celebration breakfast to follow. I stretched my sore limbs and breathed the crisp air. Duncan had near beat me senseless the day before, but I’d take the pain again and again if it led to the same outcome—Veronica’s absolution.

  I felt as if I’d been carrying a devil on my back, its lies sinking into my flesh, clouding my every thought, and now it was gone. I was free. The storm had passed, but another brewed just over the horizon. I stretched my arms to the sky, power buzzing through my muscles. Adelaide may have plotted and schemed for centuries to gain vengeance and sit on the throne of Doon, but vengeance was not hers to take and I would defend the throne with my life—fighting for something you believed in was a blessing. My father had taught me that. But I knew everyone I loved would fight alongside me, and therein lay the heart of my fear.

  Finding a quiet spot in the forest, I dropped to my knees. The Protector had proven over the centuries that he used the weak to defeat the strong, and I asked for him to do this once again. For an army of peace-loving Doonians to defeat Adelaide’s supernatural soldiers, it would take a miracle. Fortunately, Doon had been built on mirac
les.

  After concluding my prayers, I returned to my tent to finish dressing. There was much to be done in preparation for battle—weapons forged, strategies and counter-tactics finalized, squadron drills . . . the list went on, but first, I would make the girl who ruled my kingdom and my heart officially mine. A handfasting before the Divine Ruler bound a couple body and soul; the marriage rite just a slip of parchment. For me, this meant forever. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  When I entered the clearing, my heart swelled at the sight of our people, all five hundred of them packed elbow to elbow in the glade we’d been using for training. Rushes had been laid on the ground to control the mud and someone had created an altar of sorts. Reverend Guthrie greeted me from the other side of a trellis made of sticks and vines with white flowers cascading down the sides.

  Sharron Rosetti’s beaming but tired face gave me a strong notion that the woman had been behind the lovely decorations. I gave her a nod of thanks, just as the pipes and fiddle began to play. Turning, my heart thumped into my throat. Escorted by Eòran, Veronica entered the clearing to the sounds of gasps and exclamations of her beauty.

  I could do nothing but stare. Her hair hung in loose waves down her back, topped by a crown of white and yellow pansies. The ivory gown she wore was a simple medieval style that hugged her body as if it had been made for her—and perhaps it had. She glided forward and I took in every detail, determined never to forget this moment. The neckline was wide and ended in a point, beveled sleeves draped over her hands, and a delicate silver chain sat low on her hips, the length of it trailing down the center of her skirt.

  She smiled and I sucked in a gulp of air, realizing I’d forgotten to breathe. Sofia and Gabriela followed behind, holding the train of their queen’s dress off the ground. Vee turned to face me and I nearly lost myself in her incandescent eyes.

  The sound of a throat clearing forced my gaze to Eòran. The big guard, who’d become a father figure to my queen and protected her with a doggedness that forced him to distrust even me, had tears welling in his eyes. He couldn’t speak, but as he met my gaze and gave a solemn bow, he didn’t have to—he was giving his consent. Veronica must have shared our conversation with him. “Thank you, sir. I vow to protect her heart wi’ my life.”