Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
PORTIA
Istumbled across pine needles and caught myself against a towering tree.
Bark scraped my back as I leaned against the trunk and took stock of my surroundings. A sun-dappled forest spread before me, the trees thick, silent sentinels. The rich scents of earth and sap filled my lungs.
Wherever I was, it wasn’t Manhattan.
The chronomancer’s bag was missing again. But maybe I didn’t need it anymore. If this was my last “assignment,” the gods would send me home—and I’d be free to look for Tavish and Albie.
Determination coursed through me. Pushing away from the tree, I started forward.
Male cursing echoed through the woods, and I froze, my heart pumping faster. More noise followed, and I tilted my head as I struggled to make it out.
The shriek of metal drifted through the trees.
My dragon stirred at the edges of my mind, and I almost sank to the forest floor in relief. If I ran into trouble, maybe she’d finally help me shift.
The man’s voice came again, muttering a string of curse words that made me raise my eyebrows.
I moved toward the sound, careful to step over roots and fallen branches. My Mary Janes were clinging to life, and a broken heel was the last thing I needed.
The cursing grew louder…and more creative. I rounded a massive oak and stopped.
A man crouched in a small clearing with his hands wrapped around the jaws of a bear trap. His shoulders strained as he pried the metal teeth apart, his muscles bunching beneath a buckskin coat trimmed with fur.
If “strapping frontier man” had a dictionary entry, he was an appropriate image for it. His long, blond hair was tied at his nape with a strip of leather, and a matching beard hugged his jaw. His buckskin trousers looked like they’d been stitched by hand. Leather boots rose to his knees.
The scent of pine washed over me.
A lot of pine—so much of it that I pinched the bridge of my nose to stave off a sneeze. He smelled more like forest than the actual forest.
Werewolf. Mum and my Uncle Bram carried hints of the telltale scent.
The trap gave way with a screech of metal. The man straightened, releasing it with a satisfied grunt. He stiffened suddenly, then swung startling blue eyes to my hiding spot.
A squeak escaped me before I could stop it.
We faced off with less than twenty feet between us.
But my dragon stirred harder under my skin, and some of my apprehension faded.
Now that shifting was back on the table, I didn’t need to fear a solitary werewolf—even one capable of opening a trap with his bare hands.
He straightened, his blue eyes sharp. “Who are you?”
My mind raced. Where was I? When was I? “I’m…lost?”
His expression shifted, suspicion giving way to concern mixed with something that looked like pride. “It’s dangerous getting lost in this forest. You’re fortunate I found you.”
I bit my tongue against the urge to point out that I’d found him.
He looked me over, and his eyebrows pulled together. “What are you wearing?”
I glanced down at the filthy, tattered flapper dress. The man was obviously from a more conservative time. The body-hugging beaded fringe probably scandalized him.
“It’s a dress,” I said.
He tilted his head. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“I…tore it.”
“Well, you’re in luck.” He shrugged out of his fur coat and strode toward me. “I’m not the kind of man who lets a lady freeze. Here.” He held out the coat.
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“It’s fox fur,” he said, pushing it into my hands. “I killed twelve of them in one night.”
A sense of disorientation washed over me, and I found myself nodding as I accepted the coat. “That’s a lot of foxes.”
He sniffed, bracing his hands on his hips as he stared around the forest. “Maybe for some men. Not for me.”
“Uh-huh.” I settled the coat around my shoulders because I didn’t know what else to do. The scent of pine enveloped me like being hugged by a Christmas tree.
He jerked his head toward the trap. “I bet you’re wondering how I did that.”
I blinked. “Um, yes. It was very impressive.”
“Thanks. We’ve had trouble with bears lately. They don’t scare me, but they ruined my orchard.” He gestured toward a gap in the trees. “The trail is that way. It’ll take you to the main road. I can walk you there.”
I hesitated. But the chronomancer had said I was supposed to set events in motion. That meant interfering.
This man was American—and a werewolf. The timeline had connected me to Zara Rockford, the alpha of the Rockford Werewolf Pack and mate to Struan MacLure and Finn MacAlasdair.
Which meant this was probably Brader Ashcroft, the rival alpha who’d paid a witch to sabotage Zara in the Firstborn Games.
He and his father had also hired a witch to curse Zara’s pack with moon sickness.
With the sickness ravaging her people, Brader believed her pack would turn on her, then he could step in and offer marriage and joint leadership of the pack.
Only he’d never planned to share leadership with Zara. He just wanted her.
“Thank you,” I said. Questions spun through my head as Brader led me to the trail. Was I supposed to kill him? Stop the moon sickness before it started? Probably not. In my time, Zara was still young for an immortal. I didn’t know what time I’d landed in, but it was definitely before Zara’s birth.
But I had to do something. If I didn’t, who knew how long the gods would strand me with Brader Ashcroft?
The forest thinned, more sun streaming through the canopy. My dress caught on brambles, and I yanked it free. “Do you know anyone named Rockford?” I asked.
Brader stopped, instant suspicion in his eyes. “The Rockford lands border mine.” His nostrils flared, and he narrowed his eyes. “You smell different. You’re not human.”
My blood pumped faster. Werewolves had keen noses. Of course he’d scented that I was immortal.
But he absolutely couldn’t find out that I was a dragon. Females were extinct in this time.
“I have to go,” I said, backing up.
He moved with me. “How do you know about the Rockfords? Are you a scout? A spy?”
“No!” The word came out too fast. “I’m just— I thought you might know Zara Rockford.”
“Who?”
I racked my brain for the name of Zara’s father and came up empty-handed. Brader already knew I wasn’t human. Throwing caution to the wind, I blurted, “The Rockford alpha’s daughter.”
Brader stopped, confusion plastered on his face. “Reinald doesn’t have a daughter.”
My throat went dry. “I-I must have been mistaken.” I braced for him to attack.
Instead, a calculating gleam lit his eyes. “Zara…” he said slowly, rolling the name on his tongue as if he tasted it. “Interesting.”
Tingles rushed over my skin. A low hum filled my ears, and the air around me started to vibrate. Whispers floated through the trees, indistinct voices overlapping.
Brader stepped closer, sniffing the air. “You smell like old magic. What are you?”
The whispers built. Brader didn’t seem to hear them.
In my mind, my dragon flared her wings. Fire flickered under my skin. Scales rippled down my arms.
Brader widened his eyes. “You’re—”
A growl ripped through the forest behind him.
He spun, his features lighting up. “The bear!” He took off running, crashing through the underbrush in a blur of buckskin.
I stood alone in the clearing with my heart trying to pound from my chest.
A light appeared in front of me. It started as a pinprick, then expanded, growing brighter and wider until it formed a doorway. Magic poured from it in warm, familiar waves.
The auld stones.
Heart racing, I ran through the portal. Light blinded me, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I tumbled through chaos. Colors flashed behind my closed lids. My stomach lurched. The world twisted, and I stumbled onto solid ground.
Strong arms caught me.
“Portia!” My father stared down at me. Moonlight shone on his face, which looked thinner than before. His black hair was wild around his head, and his dark eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a year.
“Da,” I choked out.
His mouth trembled. Then he crushed me to his chest, his sobs shaking us both. He cupped the back of my head and held me against him.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said hoarsely. “My gods, I thought I’d driven you away.”
My throat burned, and I knew my tears were soaking his barasta. “I didn’t run. I promise. I would never do that.”
“I know.” He pressed a hard kiss to the top of my head. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Da.”
He pulled back, tears tracking down his face. “You haven’t called me that since you were a little girl.”
My own tears flowed faster. “I’ve messed up everything. I’ve lost everything.” For a second, sorrow gripped me so tightly that I couldn’t speak. “I’ve lost the men I love,” I said on a sob.
My father’s lips parted. “Tell me,” he said.
Words tumbled out. I told him everything, explaining the stones and the chronomancer and all my jumps through time. I told him of the choice the chronomancer had given me in the short alley in 1964 New York.
“I found my mates,” I said, my voice breaking. “I didn’t want to get stuck in the past, but now I realize I can’t live without them. And I’m afraid I’ll never find them again.”
My father’s eyes burned. For a moment, he wasn’t my father or a witch halfling or even Niall Balfour.
He was POWER, raw and terrible. Too much for one being to possess.
But he did. My father was the master of all seven elements.
Fire.
Water.
Earth.
Air.
Body.
Spirit.
Blood.
He’d taken them from Mullo, and I never knew it. Because he’d never told me. And I knew without asking that only two other people in the world knew the truth.
Mum and Dad. He’d told his king and queen. His mates.
And now he’d told me.
He possessed power to rival the gods, and he’d never abused it. Instead, he continued to serve the king he’d pulled from the fires of madness. He stood in the shadow of the throne, protecting his mates and his children. He served, faithful as ever.
And now he looked at me like I was the most important person in the world.
I pressed my face into his barasta, inhaling the cool, clean scent of water that always clung to him.
“Nothing is ever lost, lass,” he said softly. “Not while we breathe.” He eased back and brushed my tears away with his thumbs. “We’ll find your mates. I won’t rest until you’re reunited with them.”
For the first time since I’d left Tavish and Albie in Razrothia, hope soared in my chest.
My father would help me.
I’d search through time and space. No matter how long it took, I was going to reclaim what was mine.
Da looked down at my buckskin coat as if noticing it for the first time.
“What in the name of the gods are you wearing?”