Chapter 12
“So, you do not feel it necessary she be told your natural form is that of a Draecna hybrid?” Septamus perched on the edge of the skirting wall, his silhouette highlighted by the white-yellow glow of the waxing moon.
“I am the only human-Draecna mix left in existence. The last of the Goddess Isla’s magical clutch.
While watching over Hannah, I will make certain I do not turn.
Over the past six hundred years, I have honed my control and can maintain my human form indefinitely.
” Taggart stood beside Septamus, frowning down at the hypnotic moonlight glistening on the waves as they rippled and danced at the base of the keep.
He yearned to unleash his Draecna self, unfurl his wings, and soar above the ocean.
He loved flying into the night. Missed the exhilaration of the frigid wind lashing across his scales.
“I have silenced Gearlach with a temporary spell. I think everyone else can be trusted.” He eyed Septamus with an expectant look and received a haughty nod in response.
As he returned his focus to the sparkling waves, he added with a heavy sigh, “Besides, I am the Protector. As such, she is forbidden. I can never touch her.”
Septamus chuckled and stretched his grey, leathery wings then curled his tail around the carved outer stones at the top of the curtain wall.
“I said nothing about bedding the woman. I merely asked if you were going to tell her you were really a Draecna. But now that you mention it, since when did some silly rule ever slow you with a lovely maiden?”
“I have taken an oath of celibacy.” Taggart fisted his hands atop the rough stone of the wall. Sly old Septamus. The beast always could see right through him.
“Merlin’s beard, boy. Not that Mia business again.” Septamus snorted and rolled his great, glowing eyes. “You know Sloan put her up to it. He wanted her to breed with you to produce a legion of hybrids he could bend to his will. You were advised she could not be trusted.”
“She loved me!” Taggart slammed his fist into the crumbling stone block, causing it to shatter into the ocean below.
“Take care, hybrid. Mind your temper lest you turn whether you wish it or not.” Septamus took his tail and nudged Taggart in the chest, pushing him back from the edge of the wall.
Taggart shut his eyes against the raw, blinding pain surging through him.
Mia’s conniving. Her lies. The humiliation.
She had sworn she loved him. Pledged she would always be his.
She had even offered her soft throat for his mating mark.
He raked his hand across his mouth, remembering the sweet scent of her blood racing through the tempting blue veins beneath her ivory skin.
He had almost made the mistake of marking her as his own, but instead he had done the honorable thing.
Shown her his true form first. Been honest with her.
And then she had spurned him, cast him aside. She chose his brother, Sloan, instead.
Shoving Septamus’s tail aside, Taggart faced the biting wind, reveling in the sting of the heavy sea mist pelting him.
He sucked in great gulps of the brackish night air to cool his rage.
His pain dulled with the rising crash of the pounding waves against the jagged rocks below.
Taroc Na Mor had healed him once from Mia’s cruelty. Taroc Na Mor would heal him again.
“Leave it, Septamus. I have it under control.” He rolled his shoulders and flexed his neck as he stalked across the wall. “And speak no more to me of my past. I am the Guardian’s Protector. That is all.”
Septamus slid from his perch on the highest ledge and stretched his expansive wings to the gusting wind.
With a solemn nod, he called back over one scaly shoulder as he caught an updraft and soared into the night.
“As you wish. But dishonesty to one's self does greater harm than any dishonesty to others.”
Now this was what she had in mind. Hannah released a sigh of pure contentment as she stretched between the cool, crisp sheets.
With the perfumed linens pampering her, she appreciated the newly discovered advantages of Draecna-sized furniture.
The overstuffed mattress swallowed her in satiny softness.
Pure heaven. She could stay in this bed forever.
And the scent! Pulling in a slow, appreciative breath, she tried to identify that delicious, sweet fragrance.
Lilacs maybe? Not really. Something more delicate.
Closer to peonies. The aroma enticed and tempted her senses but fell short of being overpowering.
She took another deep, cleansing lungful.
Whatever it was, she loved it. Every tensed muscle relaxed as she lost herself to the fragrant caress.
And what was that sound? A delicate chime pinged in the distance; sweet metallic bells ting-tinged like water droplets tapping against the windowpane. Very soothing. She stretched her arms across the pillows, closing her eyes as she floated along with the melody trickling in the breeze.
“Yeow? Reow!”
A pitiful wail shattered the peacefulness of the room. She jerked upright in the center of the bed, searching for the source of the pleading caterwaul.
A kitten. And it sounded terrified. She searched the room for the poor little mite. “Kitty, kitty, kitty?” She cocked her head and waited, straining to home in on the exact location of the little cat when it sounded again. Where was it? “Come on, kitty. Meow again, so I can find you.”
“Reow . . . reooww!”
The balcony. Floundering free of the depths of the overstuffed bed, she stumbled free of the tangle of covers. She padded barefoot across the lush Turkish carpets to the partially open balcony doors. “There you are! How did you get up there? Did Septamus or Gearlach scare you?”
The balcony faced a private garden where a sprawling oak with gnarled and twisted branches created an intricate canopy covering most of the enclosed courtyard. Perched on a knotted branch, a scruffy, mottle-colored kitten with a white-tipped tail mewled a pitiful song.
She stretched across the railing of the stone balcony and reached for the tiny, wild-eyed cat. “Come here. It’s okay. Come on. You’ll learn you can trust me. Just open your mind and listen.”
The cat flicked a tattered ear in response and perked up straighter on the wavering branch.
It whipped its little tail around its haunches and tensed its body into a tighter ball.
With its rear hiked higher than the rest of its body, it wiggled as though testing its springing mechanism and launched itself into Hannah’s arms.
She caught the kitten as it hit her chest. The feline bumped its head against her chin, purring as it kneaded its paws in her hair.
“You are very welcome. I know something frightened you to make you get that high in the tree.” She scratched the little cat behind the ears and carried it inside.
As soon as itn spotted the bed, it leapt from her arms and dove into the pile of bedclothes, scampering across the mountains of pillows and blankets as though in search of prey.
“Now, come here, you little scamp.” She circled the bed as the feline wormed its way deeper under the blankets piled against the headboard. “What are you looking for? Are you just cold or something? If you’ll come here, I’ll take you to the kitchen and get you something to eat.”
The kitten peeped out from under the bedclothes, flipped its tail, and edged just out of her reach. It bounced its pink nose against the pillows, alternately sniffing and glancing up as it switched its tail.
“I know. I love the scent, too. But come here and we’ll go find you something to eat.” She clambered up on the side of the bed and reached for the little cat.
A knock on the door echoed through the chamber, causing the kitten to explode into a hissing fur ball. It shot off the bed, darted across the room, and disappeared out the balcony doors.
“It’s okay. Don’t be afraid!” Ignoring the louder rapping on her chamber doors, Hannah hurried back out to the balcony. “You’re just going to be stranded on that tree again! Come back here.”
The balcony was empty. The limbs of the tree were bare. The morning breeze whispered through the cat-free private garden. She leaned over the railing, searching the cobblestone yard. How could it just disappear?
A loud crash followed by a roared curse brought her attention back to her bedchamber.
Taggart stood in the splintered doorway with his sword drawn, chest heaving, and eyes flashing with a murderous light.
A tall, wispy man with thin, silver hair trailing down to his belted waist stood quietly by his side.
She crossed her arms in front of her skimpy nightgown and scooted for her robe draped across the end of the bed.
After a glance at the strange man with the breakfast cart, she glared at Taggart, “Would you mind telling me what you think you’re doing?
All you had to do was give me a few minutes, and I would’ve eventually answered the door. ”
Taggart sheathed his sword with an irritated thump and scowled around the room. “Why in the hell did ye not answer the door when Thaetus knocked and asked ye to allow him entry?”
As she yanked the belt of her robe tight, she envisioned wrapping it around the infuriating man’s neck.
How dare he talk to her as if she were a child!
“He only knocked twice, and I was busy. All he had to do was wait a minute. Since when do you break down a door when they don’t open it after a couple of knocks? ”
“Actually, I knocked thrice.” Thaetus cleared his throat and folded his pale, narrow hands atop the brass handles of the cart. “And I called out to ye twice and asked if ye were unwell. When ye didna answer, I could only assume something had gone awry, and ye needed immediate help.”