CHAPTER SIX
–Sloan–
THE LAST PLACE I expected to end up when I followed Willow into the willow tree in front of the colonial in twenty-first-century New Hampshire was back at MacLeod Castle. Just as surprised, and perhaps a little nostalgic, she gazed at the castle perched high on a seaside cliff.
“It’s been a long time,” she said softly, taking it all in, because it was particularly stunning, caught in the vibrancy of the Morrow.
Its rugged angles seemed softened, and the deep blue greens of the ocean sparkled.
Yet, as always, the beauty of the Morrow paled in comparison to how Willow looked within it, and that hadn’t changed in the least.
“It has been a long time,” I agreed, having missed seeing things like this alongside her. Being trapped in her fairytale with her, as she used to put it.
“But I always wanted to see what it looked like outside of the Morrow,” she murmured, catching my thoughts as swiftly as she ever had. “I assume the Viking blade is going to help with that.”
“’Tis verra likely,” I said, when for the first time, our surroundings shifted ever so slightly, and it seemed she caught it as well.
Her eyebrows edged together. “What was that?”
“’Twas a glimpse of my homeland as it truly is.”
She might have tried to hide it, but I still caught the flash of awe and hope in her eyes before her expression smoothed, and she frowned. “Any idea why we ended up here?” She shook her head. “I’ve only ever seen this from afar, never on the inside, so I don’t see how this is going to help.”
That was fine when we were kids because we relished living in that fairytale world where we could do anything we wanted, however briefly, but the older we got, the more I wanted to bring her home to meet my kin.
My clan. Show her firsthand where I had grown up, rather than only look at it from afar.
When I was younger, she was my best-kept secret, but as I grew older and we fell in love, I wanted to marry her. Make her my own. Watch her shift for the first time and fly with my kin, and she wanted the same, yet we could never travel beyond her Morrow into reality together.
“And in the end it was a good thing,” she muttered under her breath, right there in my thoughts, referring to my betrothal. “So what gives? Why are we here now?”
I was about to tell her I wasn’t sure until I spied the grey pup born of Storm’s Wolves of Ossary trotting over the drawbridge in our direction.
Perfectly visible, he moved at a normal clip while everyone else went by in a blur.
But then, animals had always been a part of both worlds, able to function in both realities.
I pointed out the wolf to her. “I think Flame might know what comes next.”
“Ahh, Flame,” she said. “I heard about him. He helped Aspen, right? Storm sent him. He’s an Irish shifter that was born a wolf, so he won’t shift to his human half for a while and can’t communicate telepathically or otherwise? At least for now.”
“Aye,” I confirmed. “And he helped Hazel and Lucas just as much, so he can be trusted to help us. ‘Twas Flame who helped get the Viking blade to me.”
Flame greeted Willow as soon as she crouched, offering her one good lick on the cheek before he cocked his head toward the woodland, then brushed against my leg as he headed into the trees, looking back again, a clear sign we should follow.
“It’s as gorgeous as I remember,” Willow said as her tree faded like it tended to do, and she appreciated the almost mystical woodland caught in the sunset’s dwindling embers. “All of it.”
“Aye,” I agreed again because she was right. Not just that, but it also brought back memories, most of which were good, some of which were hard.
Especially the last one on a cliffside alcove not far from here.
Fortunately, Flame trotted off in a different direction, leading us away from the place where Willow had left me and headed along a small stream until, surprisingly enough, Aunt Chara appeared ahead.
Willow slowed and narrowed her eyes when Aunt Chara looked up from where she sat on a rock, seeming like she’d been waiting for us. “Is it me, or is she actually looking at us? Seeing us? Better yet, seeing me?”
Outside of me and likely the woodland animals, nobody else had ever been able to see Willow in the Morrow, so I understood her shock.
“Aye,” I replied when my aunt stood and smiled. “So it seems.”
I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that, either, given it might again be confirmation that the Morrow was weakening or perhaps vanishing altogether. I would want that if Willow were mine and we could be together, but that wasn’t the case.
So I, we, needed the Morrow to keep her safe until her dragon emerged.
Yet I realized as we moved closer, Aunt Chara’s aura emitted a soft golden glow, telling me we were still in the Morrow.
Having been a time traveler herself, she married Uncle Marek, her fated mate, and learned she wasn’t just half dragon but possessed a dash of unicorn blood, so she was more powerful than most. So said the way her braided white hair seemed to put off its own light, and her golden eyes appeared to shine.
“’Tis good to see you, Sloan.” Chara smiled warmly and embraced me before turning her smile Willow’s way. “I’m Sloan’s aunt, Chara. ’Tis good to finally meet you, Willow.” Her knowing gaze went from me to Willow. “I wish it could have been far sooner.”
I could tell by Willow’s tentative smile and nod that she didn’t know what to make of this any more than I did, and it seemed Chara understood because she didn’t skip a beat and went on.
“As I suspect you’ve already noticed, things are changing within your Morrow,” she said. “I was the first to sense its presence after Sloan entered it to travel to the future, and with it came the certainty that you two have known each other for some time.”
“We have,” I confirmed softly, relieved someone finally knew, so the others might know too. “I tried to tell everyone years ago, but ‘twas always…difficult, and I cannae say why other than to assume ‘twas the magic of this place.”
“No doubt ‘twas.” Chara continued eyeing Willow kindly and held out her hand. “No need to remove your ring, but do you think I might look at it more closely?”
“Of course,” Willow said. “I don’t mind taking it off.”
“’Twould be preferable if you kept it on,” Chara said when Willow went to pull it off. “’Twas your mother’s ring, aye?”
“It was.” Willow held out her hand. “I found it after she passed away.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Chara said gently.
When she brushed her fingers over the ring the gold in her eyes shone brighter.
“’Ye undoubtedly inherited your inner witch from your mother, as this was her cherished talisman and it's as much a part of this place as your father’s magic was.
” Her gaze flickered from me back to Willow.
“And ‘twas designed to bring you to your fated mate.”
“Without a doubt, ‘twas.” My voice turned rough with emotion because that was all the hope I needed. Despite my obligations, I continued speaking with my heart rather than my head. “And now that she’s here, the spell is lifting, aye? At last, truly bringing her back to me and Scotland for good?”
“It certainly seems that way,” Chara said softly.
The slight emphasis she put on the word ‘seems’ troubled me, and I said so.
“What is it?” I frowned. “Why do I get the sense you don’t entirely believe that?”
“Maybe because you’re marrying someone else?” Willow reminded me dryly.
“Walk with me and let us talk before the willow tree comes for you again.” Chara urged us to join her along the stream, and we headed deeper into the woodland.
“As to my tentativeness, I think ‘tis unwise to jump to conclusions until we better ken the dynamics of the Morrow because that ring belonged to a powerful witch with unique magic.”
The way she said it set me on edge. “That makes sense given the Morrow, aye? Not to mention how powerful Willow’s father, Malcolm Sutherland, was, or mayhap still is, assuming he’s alive.”
“Aye, it does,” she conceded. “But the magic attached to that ring is verra old and made up of something called an unraveling spell.” She gestured at our surroundings. “The Morrow, as you call it, is part of that spell, designed to reveal Willow’s destined mate.”
The more she spoke, the more uneasy I became, and I knew Willow felt the same way. What was my aunt alluding to? Because it was beginning to sound like something I wasn’t going to want to hear.
Yet it seemed Willow was figuring it out faster than I was.
“My destined mate lives in medieval Scotland,” Willow said softly, “firmly in medieval Scotland.”
“As I do,” I reminded, frowning.
“But only within the Morrow, aye?” Chara pointed out. “Which isnae entirely medieval Scotland but some sort of magical in-between.”
I tensed and countered with what seemed logical enough. “And now the pact is upon us, the Morrow is finally revealing me on solid medieval Scottish ground, is it not?”
“That could verra well be,” Chara replied gently. “I merely point out that things are not always what they seem.”
“Then why was I compelled to be there when Willow first arrived all those years ago?” I said because it was perfectly clear to me. “Why would I have been the first person Willow saw when she traveled back in time?”
“I couldnae say other than I’m sure there was a reason for it.” Chara looked at me with reassurance, giving me hope when I sensed she might not feel as optimistic. “But that isnae the concern at the moment.” She gestured ahead. “Let us get around that bend, and we’ll talk more.”
However curious the statement, because talking where we were didn’t seem to be a problem, I could tell by the way she glanced at me that it was best we wait, and I soon understood why.