The Selkie (23 page)

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Authors: Rosanna Leo

BOOK: The Selkie
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Life-changing. Life-affirming.

He reached for her, wanting to feel the brush of her soft skin against his fingertips.

Maggie?

He opened his eyes, squinting in the light. She was gone. Her clothes, her boots. The sweet smell of her. All gone.


No,

he growled, as thunder grumbled in the distance. Ignoring that elemental manifestation of his temper, he jumped off the hay bed they’d shared, and rummaged for his clothing. As he did, he tried in vain to dismiss the nagging, splintering sensation in his chest. The one that dared to suggest she might leave him.

No. Not after what they’d shared. Not after he’d put his teeth to her fine arse and marked her as his own. Sure, their love affair was improbable, to say nothing of hasty. Still, it had penetrated him, fusing him to her. She was his, plain and simple. And if he had to spend the rest of his life proving that to her, he would.

Anything but let her go. He couldn’t let her go.

If it had been one-sided, fine. He could release her under those circumstances. But not after witnessing the need in her eyes. Not after hearing her sighs in his ears, or after tasting her kisses. They were all scrumptious indications that she needed him as much as he needed her.

And yet, she’d run from him. It was a novel, horrible concept. No woman had ever run from him. To think Maggie would break that mold was enough to break his heart.

Why would she leave? Did the idea of falling for a selkie finally turn her off? He knew she was falling for him.


I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing at, wee Maggie,

he muttered as he threw open the door to the stable and raced outside,

but you won’t win.

He tore across the stretch of land between the stable and Breannan’s house, only to find his family exiting the house. All nude, headed for the beach, carrying their pelts. Even Elsie was with them, moaning as Angus carried her in his arms. Her head slumped against his chest.


Calan,

his mother said, approaching.

We’re taking Elsie home. She needs to be underwater for the birth.


The pain’s too much for her here,

Angus concurred in a quiet voice.

She thought she could do it, but we’ve finally made her see sense.

From somewhere against the wall of Angus’s chest, Elsie groaned an unintelligible reproach.

Angus kissed her wet brow.

I’m going to take your pain away, love. I promise.

With that, Angus trudged into the water, not stopping until he and Elsie were shoulder-deep. Calan watched his brother whisper a few words to his wife, and then he set her down. Gently, he pulled Elsie deeper into the water until they both disappeared under the waves.

Fae touched Calan’s face.

Are you coming, son? It might be some time before we resurface, what with the wee babe.


No. I’m sorry.

He stared out toward the spot where Angus and Elsie had vanished.

I don’t have my skin. And I have to find Maggie.

Fae kissed him, as his brothers all began plunging into the cold sea.

Go find her, Calan. Bring her home.

His father put a hand on his shoulder.

Mates aren’t easy to find. Fight for her.

Hand-in-hand, Fae and Alun stepped into the surf. Within seconds, they were gone.

Calan turned and looked down the long stretch of beach. He could make out her footprints. Sighing in relief, he followed them.

Mates aren’t easy to find.

Could she really be his mate? The one destined to share life with him? He’d certainly believed it as he broke the skin on her sweet cheek, the traditional selkie method of declaring oneself.

Knowing he didn’t need to debate the topic any further, for the answer was already in his heart, Calan tore into a sprint and followed the track from her Wellies.

Chapter 13

Maggie wobbled down the beach, her ankles hurting from running in her gran’s rubber boots. Her eyes stinging, more from the loss of Calan, than from the spray of saltwater from the sea. Her legs were ready to buckle. She felt like a big, soft buffoon.


Dammit,

she grunted.

Why did I always choose debate team over track and field in school?

She took another step in the squishy sand and tripped over her own feet. As she tumbled to the sandy ground, she wondered why she was running. For the umpteenth time.

Oh, yeah. To get away from Calan, the love of my life. To find his pelt so I can send him back to Atlantis or wherever he comes from.

She felt like such a fool. Her reasoning had made sense back in the stable. Now it all just seemed rubbish.

Every inch of her skin was screaming to be returned to Calan. Every vein was pumping for him. Each sinew and fiber wanted to wrap itself around him. Her body already believed in him even if her head was fighting against the belief. Even now, she felt him calling to her. His voice was reverberating inside her body and in her head. Making her see pictures she didn’t understand. Forcing her to confront truths she’d never comprehended.

She’d never believed in magic in her life. Even though Gran had peddled all those old myths so long ago, Maggie had never once stopped to think they might contain a grain of truth. And then Calan walked into her life, making her question, making her wonder.

Making her want.

And now, she knew without a doubt there was something else out there. Not in an Area 51 sort of way. No, this was different. Mystical. Ancient. The sort of something that left her dumbstruck, and wanting to believe in fairies and centaurs and giants.

Running from him was causing the greatest, most mind-splitting ache she’d ever suffered. And she didn’t even understand it.

She picked up a handful of sand and tossed it, even though it did nothing to satisfy her need to throw something really big and heavy.

Cursing, she pulled herself up and continued down the beach. Luckily, Nora hadn’t lived far. Indeed, everyone in Orkney seemed to live within twenty minutes of each other. She was already approaching the small rise that led to her gran’s house. It was a stretch of ground that led to a small precipice overlooking the water. Maggie swore she saw storm clouds gathering over the waves, but paid them no attention. Her plan was to grab Gran’s car, head into town, and scour St. Magnus Cathedral, the last spot on the hit list she’d devised with Calan.

The pelt had to be there.

She forced her legs to move her body uphill, as much as it hurt, and approached the bluff. Looking down, so that she didn’t trip again, she ran straight into Matthew.

Her ex looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks and his eyes were wild. He steadied her with his hands.

Whoa, Maggie.

It occurred to her in that second that his touch had never felt quite so wrong, and Calan’s so right.

What are you still doing here, Matthew? Go home.

She pulled out of his grip and turned away.

He grabbed at her hand and pulled her back.

Oh no you don’t. I came all this way to reconcile with you. You’re not turning your back on me again.

She looked at him, her eyes burning.

I didn’t ask to reconcile with you. I don’t want to. I don’t even understand why you’re trying so hard. It’s over.

His grip on her arm tightened. Somewhere out at sea, thunder rumbled.


Do I need a reason, other than loving you?

Her shoulders dropped in exasperation.

You don’t love me. You’re just afraid to be on your own. You stopped loving me the moment you contemplated putting your dick down Caitlyn’s gullet.

She shook her head at him.

Just go home and see if you can salvage what’s left of your vacation days.


I’m not going anywhere without you. It’s time you stopped acting like a child, chasing ridiculous men, and avoiding reality,

he uttered.

You’re coming home with me.

He yanked her arm to drag her away from the bluff.

A streak of lightning illuminated the gray sky, making Maggie’s eyes hurt even more. She was all of a sudden conscious of another presence, and turned to look behind them.

Standing near the edge of the precipice was Calan. His face red. His jaw tight. His hair blowing in the breeze. He looked like a tempest. He slowly blinked his eyes, and each time he did, lightning flashed.


Get your hands off her.

Maggie swallowed. His voice was dripping murder. Okay, clearly selkie folk could be truly badass when they wanted to be.

Matthew released her, but only apparently so he could finally have it out with the man he considered to be the

backward Scottish biker.

Maggie could only watch as he launched himself at Calan with a battle cry, could only stare as she saw the grim smile on Calan’s face.


Oh, come on, guys,

she called.

Don’t do this.

It was too late. As the thunder rang out above them, Matthew hurled his fist toward Calan, but Calan caught it easily in his hand. Enraged, Matthew tried again with his other hand, but Calan caught it as well. After a tense moment, the selkie released him.


You need to go home, my friend,

Calan warned,

before I lose my temper.

Grunting, moving in a black, irrational fury, Matthew attempted to batter Calan once more. Each assault was to no avail. It was clear from the start that Calan had the more practiced technique. Matthew might have liked talking sports with his buddies at the gym, but he never exactly spent all his time bench-pressing. Calan’s body was muscular, and he moved with the easy grace of an animal.

Of course, he was one.

They circled each other for a moment, making Maggie think of a couple of hungry sharks. Matthew kept trying to get in a couple of jabs, but Calan responded by ducking. At one point, looking frustrated, Calan put his hands on Matthew’s shoulders and thrust him away. Matthew reeled, spilling backward. For a split second, his feet fumbled and he struggled to maintain his balance. But not before reaching the edge of the bluff. He stumbled yet again, trying to right himself like a cartoon character waving its arms

propeller-style, and plunged over the bluff. Calan reached out for him but not in time, and watched in shock as his adversary toppled into the water below.


Matthew!

Maggie shouted and ran to the edge, feeling Calan pull her back. Matthew was thrashing and sputtering in the waves below. Maggie turned to Calan.

He can’t swim!

Calan just stared at her, his face a mixture of disappointment and remorse. He took a deep breath, and then leaned over and yanked off his boots. Without a word, he turned and dove off the bluff, doing a perfect swan dive into the chilly water.

Maggie cried out for him, but within moments, he was hauling a drenched, waterlogged Matthew onto the beach. Heaving a huge sigh of relief, she raced down the rise to the beach. Calan deposited a spitting Matthew onto the sand, and whacked him on the back a couple of times to help him dislodge the seaweed in his throat. At least, she thought that was why he whacked him. There was a certain, satisfied gleam in his eyes that indicated he enjoyed giving Matthew a skelping, even if it was in the name of saving him.

Maggie touched Calan’s arm and felt her body go up in flames. She pulled herself together enough to whisper,

Thank you. I know he didn’t deserve it, but thanks all the same.

Calan just stared at her, ignoring the drips of seawater trickling all over his face.

Why did you leave?

She felt her lip tremble.

I don’t know anymore.

He enfolded her in his wet arms, holding her tightly to his frame, running one hand through her hair. After a couple of minutes, she heard the low rumble of his laughter against her ear.

Woman, you almost gave me a stroke.

She looked up and noticed the sky had cleared. Any trace of storm clouds had dissipated. And Calan was smiling at her.

Calan was smiling at her. It was the best feeling in the world.

Matthew chose that moment to cough up a third lung. With a sigh, Calan pulled him up and checked to see he was okay. Matthew nodded and looked over to Maggie. He resembled a sorry dog who’d fallen into the lake.

He was shaking his head and his shoulders were drooping. He looked utterly defeated.

Maggie,

he babbled,

I lost my job. I lost everything. I just wanted something nice back in my life, and you were the nicest thing I ever had.

He took a deep breath.

I’ve fucked up, haven’t I?

She nodded.

Yeah. But now you get to go home and fix it. It’s time to start over, Matthew.

They walked him the rest of the way to Nora’s house. After making sure he was okay, Calan nudged him into his rental car, turned the ignition for him, and leaned over to say a few quiet words.

She didn’t know what he said, but whatever it was, it prompted Matthew to drive away. For good. Calan then turned to her, one eyebrow cocked, and said,

Lass, I’m soaked. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to towel me off.

God, it was so tempting. Still she buried the lust that was already threatening to overtake her. Maggie just couldn’t forget the mournful look in Calan’s eyes when he’d been staring out to sea from the stable window. That look haunted her. And she knew in her soul that the only thing that could ever erase that look for good was for him to have

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