Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
ALBIE
We’d been walking for half an hour when the terrain shifted. Trees gave way to a small valley running through a rocky gorge. Gray-striped cliffs rose on either side, their faces dotted with patches of grass and scraggly shrubs that clung to the stone.
Behind my spectacles, my cursed eye throbbed like someone had shoved a spike into my skull and kept nudging it deeper. I breathed through my nose, willing the agony to fade.
It would eventually. It always did, but not before I puked my guts out while Tavish fretted.
We didn’t have the luxury of doing either of those things now. And Tavish had enough to worry about.
The sky darkened, thick clouds blotting out the struggling sun. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Tavish cursed, his eyes on the horizon. “We need shelter. The only thing worse than being in England is being wet in England.”
I surveyed the rocks, mentally sorting through fragments of text I’d stumbled across during my research. “These cliffs are limestone…” I turned in a slow circle as the wind picked up, tugging at my hair and kilt. “I think I’ve read about this place. There should be caves in this area—”
“There,” Tavish said, already moving forward.
I squinted through the ache behind my eye.
A dark opening gaped in the hillside, overgrown brush obscuring what could only be a cave’s entrance.
Tavish had spent his youth in an era where dragons waged war and stole females.
He was skilled at finding places to hide from irate family members and pitchfork-wielding villagers.
Thunder rumbled again, closer this time.
We hurried toward the cave, Portia’s skirts whispering over the ground. By the time we ducked inside, the first drops of rain began to fall.
The cave was spacious inside, the ceiling high enough that even Tavish could stand upright. Cool air washed over us, carrying the scent of damp stone and earth. But the cave was dry and out of the wind.
Portia leaned against the wall, her face pale. She put a hand down her bodice only to lower it when she obviously remembered I’d taken the velvet bag from her. It was a small, warm weight against my ribs.
Tavish stalked around the cave, picking up sticks and tossing them into a pile. “Maybe we should try the chronomancer’s spell again.”
“No,” Portia said, worry threading her voice. “What if I make everything worse?”
I crossed to her and took her hands. Her fingers were like ice, and I chafed them between my palms. “You don’t know that. You might have made everything better.”
Doubt gathered in her emerald eyes. “What if I erased Chloe? Or caused some future catastrophe?” Her expression went stark. “I might have erased myself.”
“Och, lass, none of that, now.” I squeezed her fingers. “You didn’t erase yourself. You’re right here in front of me.”
The ghost of a smile touched her lips. “That’s true.”
Tavish arranged his sticks in a neat pile, then crouched and snapped his fingers. Flames roared to life, and a merry glow spread through the cave.
He straightened, dusting his hands. “That’s one problem solved.”
Portia picked a leaf from her hair. Dirt streaked her skin, and she gasped as she examined the muck embedded under her nails. “I need to wash up. I can’t think when I’m dirty.” She cleared her throat. “I also have to pee.”
I groped for the meaning of the unfamiliar word. “Pee?”
“Urinate,” she said, blushing.
Ah.
I went to the cave’s entrance and peered out. The dark clouds remained on the horizon, and shafts of late afternoon sunlight strained toward the ground.
“It looks like the rain will hold off for a bit.” Turning, I extended a hand to Portia. “Come on, lass. We’ll find a place to pee.”
She smiled as she crossed the cave and tucked her hand in mine.
“Did I say it right?” I asked.
“You did.”
Behind her, Tavish looked ready to insist on coming, too, but he jerked his head toward the fire. “Don’t be long. I’ll find us something to eat.”
I led Portia down the rocks, pausing to help her untangle her skirts from bushes and scrub. After a minute, the scent of water reached my nose.
“This way.” Hand in hand, we approached a spring with a broad bank scattered with pebbles and the occasional sprig of grass. Water bubbled over river rocks, and mist clouded the air.
“It’s almost as pretty as Scotland,” Portia said, staring around.
“Not quite,” I said, and she tossed me a smile I was more than happy to catch.
“Tavish is angry with me,” she said suddenly.
I went to her, the tips of my boots brushing her skirts. Mist clung to her hair like a gossamer veil. “You gave him a fright. He only wants to protect you.” I touched her jaw. My beast tried to push into my voice, and I let it. “He also wants to claim you.”
She stared at me, and we both knew I spoke for myself as well as Tavish.
Portia looked down. “He’s made that very clear. But I can’t accept a mate bond right now.” She gave a small, bitter laugh. “I don’t even really know when now is.”
My heart turned over. Tucking a finger under her chin, I lifted her eyes to mine. “Now is now, lass. It’s a simple thing, but sometimes I think it might be the only thing that matters.”
Quiet spooled between us, the only sound the rush of water over the rocks.
“I think you’re very wise, Albie MacLean,” she said.
My dragon stirred under my skin, and heat sped to my groin.
“You have mist caught in your eyelashes,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended.
I traced a finger along her cheekbone. “And dirt on your wee nose, and leaves in your hair.” I leaned closer.
“And I’ve never wanted a woman more in my life. ”
She looked at my mouth. Mist swirled around us, the fading sunlight making it sparkle.
Portia swallowed, the smooth column of her throat drawing my stare like a flash from a musket. “I should…” She gestured vaguely toward the spring.
I stepped back. “Aye. I’ll go off a pace or two, but I’ll stay close by.” I turned my back and moved away. My dragon paced beneath my skin. Dragging in a breath, I let my gaze wander over the forest, my senses primed for any sound or movement. The ache in my eye faded to a dull throb.
Portia’s boots crunched at my back, her footsteps growing softer as she moved away. Fabric rustled. A few moments later, it rustled again.
“Albie?”
I turned to find Portia by the spring’s edge, a tentative look on her face.
“Yes?” I asked, striding forward.
“I’d like to bathe.”
I stopped beside her. Immortal or not, she was from a different time. And I got the sense things were…softer where she came from. She’d looked ready to faint when I showed her the chamber pot back at the castle. Was she really prepared to bathe in the spring?
“It’ll be cold,” I warned.
“It’s better than being dirty.” She plucked at her skirts. “I feel gross.”
She looked gorgeous.
“I’ll help you with your laces,” I said.
She flashed a grateful smile, then presented her back. Smoothing her hair over her shoulder, I worked the corset laces loose, my fingers brushing the linen of her chemise. Tiny goosebumps lifted on her nape.
“These clothes are really inconvenient,” she said, turning her head enough to show me her profile. “I’m sorry you have to help me all the time.”
“I don’t mind.” I pulled the last ribbon free. “I’m happy to do it, actually.”
She faced me. The mist in the air thickened. I waited. I’d waited a long time for her. It was nothing to wait a bit longer, especially now that I had her.
She tipped her head down and worked at the ties of her skirt. I faced away again, my head filling with images of what she looked like behind me. Fabric falling away. Long, smooth limbs appearing.
Water splashed.
More fantasies spun through my mind, Portia’s firm breasts bobbing on the spring’s surface, her pink nipples puckered against the cold. She was bare between her thighs like all our kind, her pussy softly rounded and begging for a man’s kiss.
Aye, I was going to take my time with it. When she finally stopped pretending she had any chance of denying my and Tavish’s claim, I was going to map every inch of Portia Balfour’s cunt with my tongue.
The pain in my head spiked.
I gasped, pressing my palm to my temple. The world tilted. I pushed my spectacles up with shaking fingers and rubbed at my cursed eye.
The ache exploded into agony. White light flashed behind my eyelids. Nausea rolled through me, and I swayed on my feet.
“Albie?”
Portia appeared in front of me, water dripping from her hair. Her chemise clung to her body, the transparent linen molded to her breasts and stomach. Even half-blind with pain, I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
“What happened?” She reached for my face, concern etched on her face.
My spectacles hung crooked on my nose. I pulled them off before she could straighten them.
Her eyes widened.
I’d never shown anyone but Tavish. Never let anyone see the milky scar tissue and the clouded iris leeched of color.
“Your eye,” she breathed.
“It was a witch,” I said, the words coming easier than I expected.
Then again, Portia was my mate. We’d have no secrets between us.
“I’d heard of a spellcaster with knowledge of blood-based curses, and I was eager to speak with him.
Tavish was busy with one of our properties and couldn’t accompany me right away, so I traveled to Edinburgh without him.
” I touched the corner of my ruined eye.
“The witch struck me down in an alley and left me for dead.”
Portia scowled as she brushed her fingertips under my eye. “I would have killed him if I’d been there.”
My dragon perked up, pleased at this bloodthirsty side of our mate, especially since she was ready to do violence in my defense. My dick showed its appreciation, too, blood pumping to my shaft. Not for the first time, I was grateful for my kilt’s yards of concealing fabric.
Portia looked at the spectacles in my hand. “Is this why you wear them?”
“Aye.” I showed her the frames. “They’re spelled to make my eye appear normal, but they do nothing for my sight. I used to see shadows and occasional flashes of color. Unfortunately, I don’t see anything now.”
Her expression fell. “The Curse caused this. Maybe not directly, but you wouldn’t have been searching for a cure otherwise.”
“That’s true. It’s taken a great deal from our people.”
“It nearly killed my mother. After Mullo died, my fathers believed we were saved. But I’m still the only female besides my mother, and she nearly died giving birth to me. It took a demon elixir to save us both.”
“A demon elixir?”
My curiosity must have shown on my face, because she smiled. “It’s called the Elixir of Vozgadach. It grants a single wish with—”
“No limitations,” I said. “I’ve read of it.”
Her smile grew. “Of course you have.”
“The Elixir of Vozgadach is granted to the winner of the Firstborn Games. The king and Niall competed?”
She shook her head. “They wouldn’t leave Mum’s side. A dragon named Struan MacLure won it with help from his mates. They gifted it to my mother.”
It made sense. “Our men would do anything to save one of our women. Brave any peril. You have no idea how precious you are to us.”
She looked down, her damp hair falling forward to hide her face. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she looked up, curiosity in her green eyes. “Back in the clearing, when you spoke to Mistress Drexel and John… Did you use persuasion?”
I nodded. “Just a small push to help them forget what they’d seen. But they’re unlikely to speak of it. Mistress Drexel got well-acquainted with that stake. I don’t think she’ll risk telling anyone she saw a dragon.”
“My dad can do that,” Portia said quietly. “When he wants to be forgotten, he can erase himself from people’s memories.” She looked down again. “I’ve never managed it. I can’t make healing tears, either.”
“Many of our gifts come with age.” I touched her cheek. “Give yourself time.”
“Time,” she repeated with a bitter laugh. “Another thing I can’t control.”
She took my spectacles from me, then paused, her gaze lingering on my damaged eye.
Her expression softened. “You said our men would brave any peril to save our women. You were brave, too.” She slid my spectacles into place with gentle fingers.
“That witch almost killed you, but you never stopped searching for a cure.”
The last of the daylight had faded while she bathed. We stood in a purple dusk, the quiet awareness that had stretched between us returning.
“I stopped,” I told her, tucking a lock of damp hair behind one delicate ear. “I found what I was really looking for.”
Her lips parted.
I kissed her.
Desire was a brushfire in my veins. Her mouth was soft and warm, her taste like rain and sugar. And I needed more.
I slid my mouth to her ear. “I want you.”
“We shouldn’t,” she whispered, but she curled her hands into my jacket, clinging to me. “Your head—”
“Doesn’t hurt anymore,” I said, realizing it was true. The agony was gone, and only desire remained. “Maybe you’re my elixir, lass.”
She pulled back and stared at me, wonder in her eyes.
I kissed her again, slower this time, sucking at her hot little tongue. She moaned softly, and I slid a hand around her hip and gripped her arse through her chemise. When she fed me another sweet moan, I pulled her more tightly against me, letting her feel my erection.
Her answering gasp stoked the flames under my skin.
“You feel what you do to me?” I rasped.
She nodded, her nipples prodding the wet chemise.
“You want to know something?”
Another nod.
I let my mouth hover above hers. “I love lacing you up. It’s like a present in reverse, Princess.” I nipped her bottom lip. “Every time I do it, I look forward to unwrapping you again.”
Her breath hitched.
Thunder cracked overhead. The clouds opened, and fat drops plopped on the ground. Within seconds, rain fell in a sheet.
I gathered Portia’s clothes and scooped her into my arms. She yelped, then laughed, clinging to my neck.
“I can walk!”
“Not as fast as I can run.” Calling my dragon, I put on a burst of speed. Portia squeaked and buried her face in my neck as trees and rocks whipped past. Her breath fanned my throat, warming my skin despite the cold rain soaking through my jacket.
When I ducked inside the cave, Tavish crouched beside the fire turning a spit laden with three plump rabbits. Grease dripped and sizzled in the flames.
He looked up, and a slow, knowing smile gleamed in his blue eyes at the sight of a wet, half-naked Portia in my arms.
“Took you long enough.”