CHAPTER THREE
–Willow–
THE MOMENT SLOAN MACLEOD materialized in front of my tree, all the old emotions I convinced myself I’d overcome came rushing back, and I knew I had done nothing more than slap a mental Band-Aid on a festering wound.
The heartbreak was still right there beneath the surface as though he had hurt me yesterday rather than years ago.
Yet it was years later, and his appearance more than confirmed it.
I expected him to age well, but not that well.
He’d grown tall, and good God, his body.
His face. Everything about him was gorgeous, from his broad shoulders and muscular physique to his chiseled, bearded features.
Dressed in a léine, a black and red MacLeod plaid, and heavy boots, his thick hair was still dark brown, and his eyes a piercing shade of light sage.
Despite his voice being in my head for years, there were a million things I wanted to ask him. Things I’d refused to ask telepathically, but instead, all that ultimately came out of my mouth was that I only allowed him to come here for the sake of my sisters.
Not because I wanted him here.
Yet as I headed inside without a backward glance, and Adlin introduced him to Ellie like I should have, I knew that wasn’t true.
I was still angry and hurt, but my heart was racing a million miles a minute just like it used to whenever I was around him.
I knew it wasn’t right, given he was marrying someone else, but there was no stopping it.
I still loved the bastard.
Even so, I had no intention of letting him know any of that because he didn’t deserve to know, especially since he was still betrothed to a woman he should have married long ago.
He mentioned her wanting to wait a time or two over the years, but before he could say any more, I would shut him down.
The last thing I wanted to do was talk about her.
And, once I figured out he struggled reaching me telepathically while I was in the air, I made a habit of flying more often.
Whenever I could. It did the trick, too, because I heard from him less and less as the years wore on, until recently, when this ridiculous medieval pact ignited.
Rather than sit and risk him sitting beside me, I stood in front of the fire with my arms crossed over my chest, scowled at him when he entered the room, and laid things on the line yet again.
“Whatever comes of us buying time via the Morrow, I want to be very clear about one thing, Sloan.” I shook my head and narrowed my eyes.
“Even if my dragon doesn’t have the gem over its heart the first time I shift, and if for some unknown reason your upcoming marriage falls through, we’ll never share what we once did, and I’ll never be yours again. ”
Where I thought he would politely and dutifully agree because he’d always excelled at being diplomatic and keeping the peace, his dragon eyes flared at me in a way they never had before.
If that weren’t daunting enough, I swore I heard a low, animalistic growl.
A wounded yet angry sound that made me tense and lower my hand into my pocket, where I kept a travel-size bottle of mace.
As if he sensed rather than saw it, because his gaze remained locked on my eyes and my movements were discreet, Sloan seemed to regain control, because his dragon eyes vanished and he was cordial as ever.
“Understood,” he replied smoothly, if not a little tightly, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating within me in sensual ways I was careful to keep from my face and thoughts.
It wasn’t easy considering how amped up he made me feel in a way that curled my toes and made me far too aware that for all the sex I’d enjoyed over the years, it was never with him.
We never went that far, and a naughty little part of me, given our ages at the time and eventual circumstances, wished we had.
And now, looking at him, and hearing him, hell, smelling his masculine, spicy pine scent even across the room, made me realize sleeping with him now would be a much different experience than it would have been had we achieved it as gangly teenagers.
Heck, he’d only been an inch or so taller than me then, but not anymore.
Now he just about towered over me, and that was no easy task for any man, given my height.
“Here we go,” Ellie said in a soothing voice, filling in for Hazel as only she could.
She set a tray of drinks and snacks on the coffee table and urged Sloan to make himself comfortable.
I couldn’t help but notice she included corn muffins, my favorite that Hazel had made before she started burning everything.
“Willow, I made you coffee because at this hour I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for. ”
“Thanks, and no offense, but whisky sounds better.” I tossed my coffee on the flames and poured myself a proper drink, bedamned the hour. “It’s still night, and I don’t anticipate needing to fly or drive anytime soon.”
“No doubt operating modern-day machinery will be behind you for a time,” Adlin agreed, pouring himself a whisky as well and handing Sloan a cup when the handsome devil opted to sit in the chair closest to me, despite numerous other choices.
If I didn’t know better, I would say he was trying to overwhelm me with his scent alone, and it was working because the closer he got, the more he drove me crazy.
“So, Willow, how much extra time can you get via the Morrow?” Ellie wondered, sitting on the couch beside Adlin.
“I think the better question is, how did you know the Morrow existed?” I tilted my head in question. “I’m guessing based on your lack of surprise that you’ve known I time-traveled for quite a while, even though I claimed not to believe in any of this.”
“I have,” Ellie admitted, sipping her tea.
“Storm shared quite a bit in her letters, so I knew there was a special ring.” Her gentle gaze flickered from Sloan to me.
“And a special guy.” She shrugged. “And whether you recall or not, you did mention once that you’d named your childhood hero your Scot of the Morrow, only confirming what I already knew. ”
Storm had written letters to my sisters and me over the years, helping us through our difficult childhoods while fueling our young, fanciful imaginations with talk of a dashing hero. Then, when the time was right, she urged the four of us to move into this house.
Although we had yet to meet her, we’d since learned she was a wolf shifter who traveled back to ancient Ireland from this very house.
If that wasn’t shocking enough, she was also a good friend of my sister Aspen’s fated mate, Laird Broderick MacLeod, and now, without him knowing her angle, anonymously worked to help him and his clan navigate this pact via the four of us sisters.
“Why not say something sooner, Ellie?” I wondered, unsure what to think of Storm sharing more with Ellie than the rest of us, but she was the oldest and had always been a little different since she embraced her gifts from the beginning. “And what exactly did Storm tell you?”
“I didn’t say anything because Storm asked me not to,” Ellie confessed.
“And after our father died, I knew the time was upon us, and we would be traveling back to medieval Scotland.” Her gaze flickered to Sloan, then back to me again.
“Or should I say before some of us began traveling back, whether we wanted to or not.”
“And now one of the two of you will be destined for a Sutherland,” Sloan rumbled, saying you instead of ye as these medieval Scots tended to do to make it easier for us to understand.
His troubled gaze lingered on me before sliding to Ellie.
“Do you know which MacLeod you might be destined to encounter, as that seems to be a common thread?”
It may have seemed like a logical enough question, but I didn’t miss the turbulence rolling off his inner beast despite how calm he seemed.
I might not have embraced my dragon yet, but I’d always been able to sense his, even though he never shifted in front of me.
I had wanted him to, and he’d been willing, but for some reason, he wasn’t able to within the Morrow, and I’d never been able to step outside of it.
We assumed it was because the Morrow was more mystical than our everyday surroundings, enhancing them subtly. We had also hoped, in our naive and innocent way, that I would be free of it once we married and would at last be able to see medieval Scotland and MacLeod Castle, as it truly was.
Unfortunately, that day never came, and I didn’t have to remind myself why.
“I think my MacLeod has lingered too long in the hereafter,” Ellie said softly, pulling me back to the here and now as she answered Sloan’s question about which MacLeod she thought she might be destined to encounter, her answer cryptic to say the least. “I believe the bigger focus right now should be on you two and your Morrow and how much time you think you can get out of it as the night passes at Sutherland Castle.”
“I agree.” Adlin's knowing gaze went from me to Sloan. “’Twould be wise to take that extra time and use it well.”
“How so?” I downed half my whisky rather than sipping it, needing the calm it could offer. “Sloan’s marrying another woman, and I’ve made it clear if that falls through, he shouldn't look my way.”
“It willnae fall through,” he muttered, his steady gaze rarely leaving mine, and it was unnerving. He was unnerving because I couldn’t seem to get my footing around him. There was too much of him, and I only became more aware of it with each passing moment.
“And if it does fall through,” he went on, his voice taunting in a way it shouldn’t be, given his situation, “then ‘twill be our dragons' decision as I always said it would be, aye, lass?”
“If I recall correctly, you also said you didn’t care if your dragon rejected mine or vice versa, you would marry me anyway,” I reminded, glaring at him as I tossed back the rest of my whisky.
“So, I wouldn’t hang much hope on our dragons being the deciding factor because you said yourself we need not always heed them. ”
I could tell by the flare of his pupils he was going to say something that would only frustrate me more, but Adlin interjected first.
“Dragons aside, ‘tis best to borrow as much time as possible,” Adlin counseled. “To try and learn what may make your mark, or tattoo, appear, Willow, because there seems to always be a trigger.”
“Right,” Ellie agreed. “The same trigger that makes the mark appear on the Sutherland, who might be destined for you, which means trying to figure out your situation before that happens. After all, unlike Aspen and Hazel, once you're out of the Morrow, you’ll be right there at Sutherland Castle with no time to figure out much of anything before Elspet finds some unsavory way to force you to shift.”
“Hard to imagine I’ll ever break free of the Morrow or that Elspet can accomplish forcing me to shift,” I muttered, refilling my glass. “I’ll admit I used to believe I was half dragon like our father, but these days if it’s inside me it’s buried pretty deep. Too deep, I'd say.”
“Which means you need to reacquaint yourself with it,” Adlin advised, his gaze again going between me and Sloan. “And I assume you first accepted you might be half dragon when you traveled via the willow tree and Morrow back to Sloan? When you two spent time together?”
“’Tis,” Sloan said roughly, sharing the last thing I expected.
More so, what it had led to.