Chapter 17 #2
They stood at the edge of the standing stones, watching as Trace knelt and laid both palms flat to the moss-covered stone. Bran’s golden eyes shone where the man’s should be, and the mating mark flared briefly on his arm in silent acknowledgement of their upcoming departure.
“You okay?” Juice asked beside him, his voice soft but firm. His hand rested at the small of Trace’s back, a constant anchor.
“Yeah.” Trace nodded. “This place gave me my brothers back. I owe it to them to return.”
Ward stepped up beside Viper and whispered, “He’ll never stay away long.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to.” Viper tightened his grip on Ward’s hand. “And neither will we.”
Kaze and Zero took up rear-guard positions instinctively; old habits were hard to break, even here in the land of legends.
Reaper stood a few paces off, scanning the treeline, his posture loose but ready.
If he had doubts, he hadn’t voiced them.
But Viper knew the look in his eyes. Something was bugging him.
He made a mental note to talk to all his men later and figure out where their headspace was.
Fionn approached slowly with Oisín at his side, both of them bare-armed and adorned in battle leathers that had been polished with care. Fionn carried a carved staff that looked to be more ceremonial than a weapon, but it pulsed faintly with magic nonetheless.
“You do not walk alone.” Fionn’s voice carried. “You return to your world with more than stories. You’ll return to us for good when the wars are done on your side of the veil. Until then, you are all always welcome at our table.”
Viper dipped his head slightly in respect. “You showed us a world we never knew existed. We thought Bran was the only magical being on the planet.”
Fionn stared at him in complete silence for a moment, then he shoved the staff at Oisín. He bent almost double, placed his hands on his knees, and laughed so hard he had tears rolling down his cheeks.
“What’s wrong with him?” Viper mouthed to Ward.
“You mentioned a Bran being the only magical creature on the planet.” He pointed at Fionn. “I’m guessing that means there is more out there than any of us ever dreamed of.”
“Well, shit. I’m going to be giving everyone the side eye from now on. Just in case.”
Oisín reached out and clasped forearms with Ward. “Your power is still growing. Don’t let your disbelief in yourself make you question it. Magic does not fade just because another world forgets how to use it.”
Ward nodded, face calm but eyes swirling with something deeper. “I won’t forget. None of us will.”
Fionn passed a pouch to Trace. “Tokens of protection,” he said. “For your home and your hearth.”
Trace accepted it with a nod. “Thank you, Mo Rhí. I’ll bury the first at the roots of the Dolmen.”
“Until we meet again, brothers.” Fionn stepped back as the ground shimmered faintly beneath their feet, light pulsing upward through the stones as if the land itself acknowledged the farewell. This wasn’t goodbye. It was an ‘I’ll see you when I see you.’
The standing stones flared with power—a deep, steady pulse like the heartbeat of the earth itself.
A low hum vibrated through Viper’s boots, crawled up his spine, and settled behind his ribcage, echoing in rhythm with the bond still humming between him and Ward.
He glanced sideways to check on the man he needed above all others.
Ward’s expression was unreadable, but the faint tremor in his fingers and the way his thumb stroked over Viper’s knuckles said everything. Neither of them wanted to let go. Of this place. Of what they’d built here. Of each other.
“I’ve got you,” Viper whispered softly.
Ward nodded, swallowed once, and took a steadying breath. “Then let’s go home.”
Fionn raised the staff and brought it down hard against the stone ring at their feet. The ground shivered. Light exploded outward in a rush to curl around them. Viper flinched at the sudden warmth and sucked in a breath when the doorway bloomed into existence between two curved stones.
We have to go through that.
Shit.
He almost lost his nerve, but then the door flickered and he saw trees and a dark forest canopy, and slowly, a stone altar came into focus.
The Dolmen in Trace’s woods.
Real-world air spilled through the opening, sharper, colder, and laced with pine, damp bark, and something achingly familiar.
Trace looked back toward Fionna and his Fianna warrior brothers, his eyes rimmed with emotion.
He raised a hand in farewell, then turned to face the door.
“Let’s do this.” Juice followed him through without hesitation.
Kaze slapped Reaper’s back and muttered something about finally getting his hands on pizza again before he stepped through.
Zero paused only once to touch the stone nearest him, his fingers brushing over the old runes like a silent goodbye. Then he, too, was gone, swallowed into the veil.
That leaves us.
Viper turned toward Ward. “Last chance to run away and live in the woods with me and a bunch of sword-wielding lunatics.”
Ward arched a brow. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
They both smiled, clasped hands, and with a final smile for the Fianna and Fionn, they too they stepped through the portal.