Chapter Twenty-Two
–Tavish–
WHILE BEYOND EAGER to get to Sutherland Castle, I loathed every minute of seeing Ellie in Sutherland colors, however stunning she was with her hair flowing around her shoulders once more.
She looked like an angel as she descended the great hall stairs, and I was by no means the only one who took notice.
Not the only one to outright stare because we couldn’t help ourselves.
Unfortunately, Dugal did too in a far more disrespectful, possessive, lustful way, and it made me want to cut him down.
“Stay strong,” Broderick counseled telepathically when I clenched my fists and ground my jaw. “Ye must, brother. For her, if nothing else.”
That’s about the only thing that held me at bay because even though Ellie put on a brave face, I felt how frightened she was. Felt her heart racing as Dugal escorted her into the courtyard so all could witness her at last, fulfilling the pact.
And she did.
She found the courage and shifted for all to see, and her shimmering white dragon was as beautiful as ever, invoking several gasps of awe throughout the crowd. Not just because of her lovely beast, either, but because, damningly enough, the pink gem was still very much there and as whole as ever.
“Ye see,” Elspet declared for all to hear.
“My son’s destined witch and descendant of our most powerful sorcerer has been found amongst the MacLeods just as the pact claimed she would be.
And just like the pact claimed, she wears the gem over her heart.
” She looked triumphantly at Dugal, making clear his mistress would always take priority over his wife.
Always be more important. “Shift, my son and laird of this castle. Shift and finally look into the eyes of yer fated mate.”
I had never been more tense or alarmed than when Dugal embraced his inner beast and shifted into a dragon easily twice her size. And he was just as sinister as his human half when he locked eyes with Ellie’s dragon, a ruthless predator no female dragon or human should ever be subjected to.
Terrified for her, I couldn’t stop myself from trying to shift so I could protect her, but alarmingly enough, it was impossible. All I could do was suffer the unbearable sensation of my inner beast writhing beneath the surface, desperate to break free.
“Elspet’s blocking us from being able to shift,” I cursed, going for my sword, but Broderick clamped a hand down on my shoulder.
“Nay, brother, dinnae, something is happening,” he said. “Look at Dugal.”
Shockingly enough, he was right. Something was happening, and it was impossible to know what, as Dugal’s dragon seemed to stagger as it gazed into Ellie’s eyes.
“What’s happening here?” Ellie asked me, grateful we still had a telepathic link. “Is he supposed to be doing that?”
“Nay, I dinnae think so,” I replied as Dugal’s great dragon flailed, flapping his wings as he staggered even more, trying to take flight to escape whatever was happening to him.
“Is someone else doing that to him?” she wondered, her dragon stepping back in confusion. “Because I’m not.”
Drawing my sword alongside my kin and the king’s men, we stood at arms around King Robert, unsure of what we were witnessing. All we knew was we couldn’t shift.
“But I can and have,” Ellie reminded, positioning herself between Dugal’s flailing dragon and us, so she could protect the king, if need be, because something was seriously wrong.
Not just because Dugal was a formidable, dangerous dragon, but because his mother was even worse.
And she only grew more and more upset as she tried to get through to her son, but he seemed unable to hear her.
It only got stranger from there when he shifted back, seemingly against his will, and fell to his knees as the courtyard took on the enchanted otherworldly appearance of the Morrow.
“It’s not the Morrow, though,” Sloan said.
“No,” Ellie agreed as an ethereal scene manifested in the courtyard between Ellie and Dugal, his skin pale and his eyes wide with confusion and terror. “It’s the Hereafter.”
No sooner did she say that than the scene, although transparent, became more vivid as trees manifested around a woodland clearing and several ethereal young women appeared, walking together gathering herbs.
“’Tis ye, lass,” I said aloud, dumbfounded when I saw Elowyn as she was before she died, among the group of women smiling and laughing. I choked back emotion. “’Tis ye as I last saw ye before...”
“Before I died,” Ellie realized when I trailed off. “This was that day...this was the place...and we never even heard them coming.”
Moments later, I finally witnessed the truth of that fateful day when a small group of Sutherlands melted out of the woodland and surrounded the women, none of whom could shift into dragons.
Even worse, a younger version of Dugal Sutherland was with them and clearly in charge despite not being the chieftain yet.
“Look at this, lads,” Dugal declared, eyeing the women hungrily before his lecherous, lustful gaze homed in on Elowyn in recognition, and he swung down from his horse.
“It seems some MacLeod lasses lost their way.” His gaze raked over Elowyn as he swaggered her way with the same predatory gleam he’d had in his eyes minutes ago.
“And who do we have here? If I didnae know better, I would say ‘tis Tavish MacLeod’s lass, aye?”
“Aye,” his men agreed, taking his lead and swinging down from their horses as well.
Although the sounds of their voices faded after that, there was no need to imagine what happened after the other women were dragged into the woodland.
All except Elowyn, because she didn’t go that easily.
Instead, she fought Dugal for all she was worth, and while she managed to protect her chastity, it cost Elowyn her life when he strangled her to death before fleeing.
I was entirely unaware I started toward Ellie and Dugal, shaking with anger and grief as if I could save her from an otherworldly memory, until I realized my brother held me back.
Held me back as the scene continued to unfold.
Hidden in the woodland overgrowth, a couple appeared nearby, and the man kept his lass from going to Elowyn until Dugal was gone.
“’Tis too late, Marjorie,” none other than a younger Malcolm Sutherland said. “’Twas already too late when we came upon them.”
After releasing her, he followed with his blade drawn when she raced to Elowyn, fell to her knees, rested the lassie's head in her lap, and wept.
“This is her, Malcolm,” she said softly.
“This is the lass we saw walking with Tavish MacLeod that day. Do ye remember?” She looked over her shoulder at Malcolm, then back to Elowyn, whose breath came out in a weak, labored rattle.
“They were so in love, just like us.” She shook her head.
“’Twas real and beautiful and they didnae deserve this any more than we did because our stories are nae all that different. ”
“Nay.” Malcolm rested a gentle hand on her shoulder even as he kept a keen eye on the woodland around them. “They didnae. She didnae. But we must go, and soon. We cannae be here anymore.”
“Nay,” Marjorie agreed, still weeping over Elowyn as she pulled an all-too-familiar ring from her pocket and slipped it onto her finger just as her daughter, Willow, someday would.
“This is where ‘twill begin,” she whispered, gazing into Elowyn’s eyes as she breathed her last breath.
“This is where we will seed hope that someday Sutherlands and MacLeods can come together in true peace. Good and lasting peace, may it evade the evil clutches of my ancestor and his greedy need for power. May it be a peace where kindness rules and we work together for a better Scotland. A stronger Scotland.”
“Aye,” Malcolm said roughly, seeming to understand what she did as she called upon the Hereafter to take Elowyn’s sweet soul and deliver it back to her one true love, along with three other witches.
May the gods of old and new guide their spirits into her and Malcolm’s trusting hands and make right old wrongs. Bring true love back together.
She closed her eyes and paused as if summoning great power, and continued chanting while resting her hand over Elowyn’s heart.
Chanting as she invoked the magic of the Sutherland sorcerer whose blood coursed through her veins.
Her ring shone first red, then purple, then blue, covering all the colors that had brought my kin back to their mates before ending up pink.
Ultimately choosing Elowyn.
“May the Sutherland who someday bears the mark be he who took this lass's life and may he pay with his own life,” Marjorie said, calling on great magic, “if she doesnae love him in return the first time his dragon gazes into her eyes.”
When the ethereal scene faded, Dugal slumped to the ground and grasped his throat as if someone strangled him just as he had once strangled Elowyn.
“Dugal,” Elspet cried, racing to him, showing us she was halfway human when she fell to the ground beside him just as Marjorie had Elowyn, held his head in her lap, and tried to help him via magic, but it did no good.
How could it when Marjorie Sutherland’s magic was stronger than hers?
When the power of the sorcerer’s bloodline she had so admired, was stronger than hers?
“Nay,” the great and mighty Elspet Sutherland whimpered when Dugal took his last labored breath just as Elowyn had once taken hers, cursed to the Hereafter just as he’d once cursed another who never did him any harm.
All went silent as Elspet hung her head over her son, her shoulders slumped in defeat, feeling the same grief Dugal had inflicted on me when he killed Elowyn. Feeling that terrible sense of loss.
Or so it seemed until her grief turned swiftly to rage.
Rage she directed at my lass, and it led to yet another chain of events nobody saw coming.
Events that would change everything in the end.