Chapter 12 #3
That hurt her feelings a lot more than she’d imagined it would. “I thought she liked me. I thought we were friends.”
“Hellys and Ipsillian are interrogating her to discover all her reasons, and Kcirred's plot. We will know more when they finish.”
The way Magnus’s eyes narrowed, the way the muscles in his jaw flexed, made Lyla wonder what he wasn’t saying. “Was anyone else hurt?”
He pulled in another deep breath and released it. “No, my love.” With a tender smile, he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. “Yer magic proved strong. All whom ye have healed are still hearty.”
“Thank goodness. I was especially worried about the babies. Are there other hatchlings I need to see to?” It would take a little while to rebuild her strength, but the surgery on her throat hadn’t kept her down as long as they’d predicted, and she wouldn’t let this stop her either.
“Maybe you could have the eggs brought in here? I particularly don’t want any of the little ones to suffer just because I got knocked down for a bit. ”
He shifted again, laying her back in his arms so he could fix her with a stern look that did little more than make her want to laugh.
“Ye will worry about healing yerself and nothing else, ye ken? Everything else will be addressed in the proper time. The chimes still sing out and that strengthens the Realm with hope. Everyone knows that soon all will be whole.” Then he frowned down at her.
“We must make ourselves whole as well, my love.”
And there it was. The choice she needed to make.
Choose Magnus and the strange backwardness of all the Thirteenth Century or return to her life with all its modern conveniences, frustrations, and issues—and the people who needed her.
She found the strength to reach up and touch his face, battling with the insistent need to toss caution to the winds and melt into him, while forgetting about all her responsibilities.
“We don’t really know each other,” she said, wincing at the weakness of the excuse.
Instinctively, she knew him better than she’d ever known anyone in her life.
She didn’t know how she knew—she just knew.
He was safe. Home. The part of her she’d been missing and hadn’t realized until this very moment that she couldn’t live without.
“What about the people who depend on me? The people from my world who need me?”
He barely shook his head. “I canna answer that. All I know is that I need ye more than I need air to breathe.” He trailed his fingers along her jawline, then traced the outline of her bottom lip with his thumb. “But ye feel it now, aye? Ye recognize the bond of which I speak.”
“I think I’ve felt it ever since I got here.” She fisted her hand to her chest and rubbed her knuckles up and down her breastbone. “I’m just no longer afraid to admit it. But—”
“I know.” With a sadness that broke her heart, he pressed a finger across her lips.
“I know ye worry about the weak ones ye’ve saved in yer world.
” After a pained shake of his head, he pressed his forehead to hers once more and whispered, “But ye canna save everyone with no thought for what ye need to save yerself.”
But she’d been hungry once, and homeless until her mother had dumped her on what she’d told Lyla was her grandparent’s doorstep.
As it turned out, they’d been fosters social services had found before her mother chose to disappear back into the cold, cruel world that had always chewed her and Lyla up and spat them out.
Her mother had promised to come back. She hadn’t.
Lyla didn’t want those she’d helped to know the abandonment she’d known.
Her foster grandparents had loved her and raised her, but still—it did something to a kid when their father never wanted to have anything to do with them and their mother decided they weren’t worth the trouble.
With the foundation she’d started, with her investments and earnings, or what was left of it after Derrick siphoned off as much as he could, she’d made a difference for at least a few people, and that had helped her more than all the therapy she’d gone through to get over her childhood and the loss of her voice.
“Lyla? Please?” He kissed her forehead again, cuddling her closer, caressing her with his warmth that both made her feel safe and leery. “The old one, the Divine Weaver, said they have watched over the ones ye protected. The child. The boy. Mairwen said he is thriving with his music.”
A wave of pride and love washed across her.
“Jake loves his music so much. He took to the piano like a duck to water.” She envisioned him bent over the keyboard with the tip of his tongue barely sticking out.
No matter how well he knew a song, he always had the tip of his tongue clenched between his lips as if it helped him concentrate.
Then she remembered everything Mairwen and Keeva had told her, all the lies.
“How can we trust Mairwen? She and Keeva”—she shook her head—“they were so dishonest. They basically ran a con on me that ended in kidnapping. They didn’t give me a choice. It was all a setup.”
“I believe they do as they do because they know how unbelievable the truth can sometimes be without actually seeing it with yer own eyes.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “I dinna excuse their methods. I simply think that is what they do for the protection of the Highland Veil.”
“The good of the many versus the good of the one kind of situation?” She understood. Didn’t like it. But she understood. It didn’t make this conversation any easier.
“Aye.” With another heavy sigh, he shifted them in the oversized chair and tucked her closer, nestling her head back against his chest. His tunic was soft beneath her cheek, the kind of soft of a favorite cotton shirt laundered a bazillion times.
“Rest, my love. We have a little time left before ye’re taken away. ”
This time she found the strength to push herself up and stare down at him. “What do you mean taken away? I thought I had the right to choose?”
“Aye, ye do, but ye canna remain undecided forever. Neither the universe nor the Highland Veil are the patient sort. My right to fourteen days and fourteen nights set them to counting off the minutes. At the end of that time, if ye dinna choose, the choice will be made for ye. Ye will be returned to yer life, and we shall have to wait until the next existence to search each other out and choose again.” A bitter laugh huffed from him.
“And I possess the average lifespan of a dragon. I still have an endless amount of hectrooms to endure. Hectrooms painful and empty because ye’d not be at my side. ”
“Now wait a minute.” He hadn’t told her that part before. She patted her chest. “I’m human. A thirty-eight year old human. Statistically, if I take care of myself, I’ve only got another forty years or so left.”
“Nay, woman. When we join, yer lifespan is made to match mine. The Highland Veil will make it so.” He gave her a sad smile.
“Ye’re but a wee pup in the Highland Veil’s opinion.
” He snorted another bitter laugh. “In a dragon’s opinion as well, ye’re but a hatchling.
” His eyes took on a grateful sheen she hadn’t seen in them before, and his smile turned genuine.
“It does my heart good to see ye strong enough to sit up on yer own. The poisons are leaving ye.”
Everything he’d told her just confused her more.
Well, not just confused her, but tightened the already bursting knots of indecision trying to shut down her mind and cut her gut in two.
“Is there any way we can double check what Mairwen told you about taking care of Jake and the others? Does such a thing exist as a magic mirror or something so I can make sure they’re not lying? ”
He grew thoughtful, slightly frowning, but thoughtful. “The Scale of Rurik might allow us to do what ye wish. But I dinna ken if it will work or not since we are not yet bound.”
While she wanted to know more about this thing that sounded as if it was a weapon in a video game, if she couldn’t use it unless she and Magnus were bound, then that defeated the entire purpose of trying to verify what Mairwen had said.
Knowing in her heart that he’d never lie to her, even when it would be to his advantage to do so, she allowed herself to sink deep into his silvery-eyed gaze that shimmered with the eerie golden glow of his soul.
At least, that’s what she thought that golden glow was, and it comforted her to think so.
“Do you believe Mairwen when she said the Weavers were taking care of my people?”
“I do.” He hadn’t hesitated.
“You really do?”
Another heavy sigh came from him before he tucked her back down against her chest. “Rest. Heal. We will consult the Scale of Rurik and pray it will open to ye even though ye are not of this world.”
“How much time do we have? Before the universe and the Highland Veil pulls the chain on your fourteen days and nights?”
“Six days.”
“That’s not very long.”
“No, my love. Not verra long at all.”