To Love a Highland Dragon (26 page)

Lachlan bolted from the bed and ducked beneath the heavy window coverings. Even through the wavy, uneven glass he could see that this side of the castle yard didn’t have a dragon in it.
Let’s be smart about this.

“Kheladin.”

“How did ye know it was me?”
Dry humor underscored the question.

Lachlan snorted.
“What other
talking dragon
would be asking for me? Give me a moment, and I will join you.”

“Doona rush. Women with their breasts half bared are fawning over me.”

Lachlan laughed.
“Well, ogle a few for me. Just so ye doona think me unappreciative. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Coming back. What else?”

The dragon paused for the space of several heartbeats.
“We are part of one another. Even if ’tis a hundred years afore our bonding, ’twas still a vow we took, one to the other. Ye know it, and so do I. We shall speak further when ye join me.”

Lachlan’s throat thickened with emotion. The dragon could have chosen to remain with his own kind, yet he hadn’t.
I was a fool for ever doubting him, for not trusting to the magic twined betwixt us.

He rewound his plaid, looked about for his boots and realized he hadn’t taken them off. He had one hand on the door latch when he turned back and strode to the wall behind his bed. Chanting low, he cast the spell to open a hidden panel. Lachlan thrust his hand into the hole and withdrew a substantial packet wrapped in soft hides and tied with heavy ribbon. He didn’t waste time sorting through the jewelry he knew lay within. Maggie might not want most of it, but he would use the yellow diamond ring, with its large central stone set in gold, to plight his troth to her. He grabbed up a sporran, secured it about his waist, and dropped the jewels inside. Reversing his spell to close the secret cubby, he hurried out of the room and down the castle’s stairs.

If she doesna want the pearls and other gemstones, I’m certain Kheladin will.

He burst into the main courtyard outside the castle’s enormous front doors and stopped dead. Kheladin hadn’t been joking. He was in the middle of at least twenty maids patting him and fawning over him. Some of them were, indeed, showing more skin than modesty dictated.
“Quite the ladies’ man, eh?”

“Not too many lassies when one is asleep. I am making up for lost time.” Kheladin’s out loud voice had a deep, rumbly quality. Lachlan tried to recall if he’d ever heard the dragon speak, other than through his own vocal chords.
Aye, when he and I first met…

He hurried down the castle steps; the maids scattered with murmurs and blushes. “Och,” Kheladin chortled; steam puffed from his mouth. “Ye’ve gone and scared them all away.” He twisted his neck and looked meaningfully at the empty spot between his shoulders.

Lachlan understood, gauged the distance, and drew just enough magic to land in the same spot where Maggie had sat. Excitement thrummed through him. He felt like a young lad, unable to rein in his eagerness. He’d never actually ridden a dragon, and the prospect was intoxicating.

“Ye’ve flown with me afore.”

“Only when we were joined. Never like this.”

Dragon laughter floated upward; sounding like fluted chimes. Kheladin’s wings beat the air and carried them above the castle. The dragon turned north. “Where are we going?” Lachlan asked.

“Where we can talk without fear of being overheard.”

It was good enough. Lachlan trusted the dragon, something he’d rarely gifted anyone. His gaze roved over lochs, trees, and stately manor houses. Scotland. Nowhere else could ever be as beautiful. Not in his eyes. The view from Kheladin’s back was remarkable, ever so much better than when he’d shared the dragon’s whirling vision. Hope flared, painful in its intensity. If he had Kheladin by his side, maybe there’d be a way to forge a path through time and back to his beloved Maggie.

He shut his eyes; a vision of her formed against the darkness, blonde hair swirling around high, firm breasts. A jolt of pure lust shot through him, and his cock sprang to attention. “Best watch it.” Kheladin’s voice was partially ripped away by the wind. “’Twould be a shame if ye plummeted to your death afore we could resurrect our bond—and your immortality.”

They floated downward, landing within a ring of standing stones on the Isle of Skye, an ancient Celtic meeting place. Lachlan jumped down, using a bit of magic to soften his landing. He settled on the sandy ground with his back against one of the stones. The smell of the ocean was strong in his nose, the sky so brilliant a blue it almost hurt his eyes to look at it.

Kheladin wound his sinuous neck low, so his head was nearly level with Lachlan’s. “I have been busy,” he announced. Lachlan waited. Kheladin’s story would unfold as the dragon wished. Steam washed over him. “Are ye not going to ask aught?”

“Nay. It is good to have you by my side again, though. We werena apart for long, yet I missed you.”

The dragon’s jaws parted, revealing hundreds of teeth set in double rows. “I missed you as well—and the lass.” More steam. Kheladin’s scales clanked as the dragon shook himself from head to toe. “I conferred with one of the dragon elders. There was much of our lore I missed, because I was less than five centuries old when we bonded. At the time, the elders told me I was too young to bond with you, but like all younglings, I dinna listen.”

Lachlan sucked in a breath. He wanted to be patient, but he also wanted to dive right into talking about how they could get back to Maggie. “What exactly did ye not listen to?” he prodded.

“Dragons were the first time travelers.” Kheladin was so excited, fire flashed from his mouth. He turned his head to avoid crisping Lachlan’s hair. “Fire Mountain exists in a place outside time. I dinna ken that as a youngling, mostly because I dinna pay attention to aught but the joy of flight, the allure of battle, and the dragon maids.” His green eyes whirled so fast, Lachlan felt their hypnotic pull. “Ye must travel through all known eras, and those yet to come, to reach the dragons’ ancestral home.”

Lachlan bit back an exultant whoop. It came out as a whistle. “Can we stop anywhere we wish along the way?” He shook his head. “First, I should probably ask if ye can travel there, to Fire Mountain.”

“Aye to the second question. I know, because I went there last night, just to see if I could. Locating the correct time may take a bit of experimentation, but I doona see why we couldna manage it.” The dragon’s whirling gaze danced with excitement. “The lass rode me. I know her essence. ’Twill help me find her.”

“Do we need to resurrect our bond first?” Lachlan jumped to his feet, too agitated to sit still. As far as he was concerned, his love for Maggie shone so brightly, it would act like a homing beacon and draw him to her. Between that and Kheladin’s magic, success was within reach, so close he could taste the sweetness of Maggie’s mouth and inhale the wildflower scent that clung to her.

“Aye. I found out more about the bonding magic, too. Ye were so anxious to find a dragon—and I a mage—we picked the shortest path. There is another that would allow us more…latitude.”

“Explain.”

“More air and less fire in the casting will mean we can exist as individuals yet still be bonded. If the need arises, ye can still move within me, or I within you.”

Wonder filled Lachlan. “Marvelous! How did ye puzzle that out? ’Twould be far better, especially for fighting, since there’d be two of us. With all my studies I dinna find such a spell.”

“There isna time to tell you everything. In short, to be bound as we were gave humans the upper hand. ’Twas fine for the mage, many of whom held a secret fear of dragon energy.” Smoke curled from Kheladin’s mouth; his words dripped scorn. “Of course, the arrangement was less advantageous for the dragon. That may have been why it took you so long to find one to bond with. The older ones were wiser than me.”

“Ye are wise beyond measure—” Lachlan began, but Kheladin blew steam in his face.

“Human mages hid the other casting, and because ’tis so old, many of the younger dragons like me dinna know of it—”

Heartily sick of magicians and their endless posturing as they jockeyed for power, Lachlan’s patience evaporated. “Did ye write it down?”

“Better. I memorized it. If ye trust me, I will cast it now.”

Lachlan wound his arms around the dragon’s neck. “Hurry. The sooner ye’re done, the sooner we can get back to Maggie.”

“Aye. I have worried much about her. Do ye suppose Rhukon abducted her, too?”

Apprehension raced in like an unwelcome army flanking his hopes with dread. “I doona know. One thing at a time, Kheladin. We canna go after her until ye’re done with the bond. I have missed the connection. I canna wait to feel you within me again.”

Steam bathed him, and the dragon began a sing-songy chant that warmed Lachlan’s soul.

Maggie hugged her grandmother. “Guess I’m more like you than I realized.”

Mary Elma’s mouth twitched. “Yes, dear. I’ve known that for a long time. Blamed myself, actually, for your chilly disposition.”

“Grandpa didn’t think you were all that chilly.”

“Well, he didn’t stick around, either.”

“That was because you were always so busy with coven business…” Maggie’s words ran down. She’d always kept herself more than busy as a hedge against emotional commitments, too. “Is there, um, anything you would have done differently?”

Her grandmother eyed her speculatively. “And you’re asking because?”

“Maybe so I can avoid the same mistakes with Lachlan. I love him, ache for him.” She tapped her breastbone. “But I’m old enough to understand it takes more than love to keep two people together.”

A soft smile curved Mary Elma’s full lips. “No matter what I tell you, you’ll find new mistakes. Life’s a bitch that way.”

Maggie shrugged. “At least it will narrow the playing field. Right now our physical attraction is so electric, I’m sure we’ll forgive one another anything, but that intensity can’t last.”

“Oh yes, it can. Sex is like any other flame. It just needs tending.” Her grandmother got a wistful look on her face. “Listen to him. Ask what he needs and wants. Put him first. If you go into this believing your love is more important than anything else in your life, you’ll find ways to get through the rough spots.”

“Gran, that’s probably the first time you’ve ever told me anything personal.”

“Maybe it’s because this is the first time you were open to hear it.”

“Touché!”

Mauvreen sidled over to them. “I think they’ve come to a decision.”

Maggie looked up. Ceridwen met her gaze and gestured her toward the front of the room. Maggie started forward, but her grandmother caught her up on one side and Mauvreen on the other. Both witches hooked a hand under one of her arms.
The power of three,
Maggie thought, warmed by their support. They stopped ten paces from Ceridwen.

“Whatever you have to say,” Mary Elma said, “is still open for discussion.”

“Yes,” Mauvreen seconded, sounding fierce.

“In your dreams, witches.” Andraste stepped forward.

“What we have decided is this,” Ceridwen cut in smoothly. “It will require a certain amount of … faith on your part.”

The hands still holding Maggie’s arms tightened. Neither witch was impressed so far. “Let’s hear what they have to say,” she murmured, “before we react.”

“Wise lass.” Ceridwen winked at her. “What we propose has several stages. The first will reunite you with Lachlan in the fifteen hundreds. Once ye are there, ye must find the earlier iterations of us.” Maggie opened her mouth, but Ceridwen shook her head. “Hear me out afore ye ask questions. Lachlan will know how to raise the Celtic gods. Any mage of his time could do that. In fact,” she quirked a brow, “I am certain he has already petitioned us for assistance returning to your side.”

“Fine,” Maggie smirked. “I’ll just wait for him, then.”

“Ye could be waiting for a verra long time.” Ceridwen tossed both hands skyward. “We are not in the habit of assisting mortals unless it benefits us directly.”

“Okay.” Maggie met the goddess’ unsettling gaze. “Back to plan A. Assuming you send me back in time to Lachlan, once we find you, then what?”

“It gets a wee bit stickier after that,” Andraste said. “But after you’ve done away with Rhukon, we’ll see the two of you returned to modern time—if you’re of a mind to do so.”

“How do you even know they can kill Rhukon?” Mauvreen asked.

“We don’t,” Andraste replied.

“Hmph. Interesting.” Mary Elma’s eyes narrowed. “If they do manage to kill him, what are you going to do about the Morrigan?”

“That,” Ceridwen rose to her full height, “is none of your affair.”

Kill. Holy fuck, she said kill.
“Hold up.” Maggie jerked away from her grandmother and Mauvreen and marched forward until she was nose-to-nose with Andraste. “You expect Lachlan and me to kill Rhukon?”

“Well, there’s apparently nothing wrong with your hearing,” Andraste sniped.

“What if I don’t want to do that?”

The goddess shrugged. “Then all bets are off, and ye’re on your own getting back to your heart’s desire.”