Chapter 21
His home?
I spun my torso as far as I could to look at Darragh with an incredulous stare.
All that did was shimmy my ass into his pelvis as I turned to look at him.
Darragh’s thighs and torso stiffened. He drew in a sharp intake of air, alluding to my mistake, and I quickly turned around.
I would have tried to move forward, but there was nowhere for me to go.
My cheeks burned, and I covered my face, willing myself to disappear.
“Shit. I am so sorry.” Darragh audibly swallowed but said nothing.
Dullahan, take me.
Darragh’s family home was a quaint villa with a thatched roof, a small barn with two horses, and a large sheep pen.
A woman with her arms hugging her stomach stood in a garden to the side of the home, watching us approach on Astorath.
Her brows were raised and her mouth agape.
Braided black hair shimmered with a blue sheen as she tipped her head.
Astorath halted, and Darragh dismounted in one swoop, taking his warmth with him.
As I dismounted alongside him, my legs buckled under my weight.
The adrenaline letdown of the assault and the warring emotions of the day made me wobbly, but Darragh wrapped an arm around my waist to steady me. “Are you alright?”
I nodded. “Yes. I think I’m exhausted from everything.” As my legs became surer underneath me, he let go.
“Come on. Let’s get you a change of clothes and cleaned up.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Mom,” Darragh gently said as we approached her. Her eyes lit with joy, and she threw her arms around his large frame.
“I’m so glad to see you, my love,” she said as she stepped back, holding onto his arms and staring up at him.
Darragh hugged her back, lifting her frame off the tilled soil. A sliver of what looked to be scars peeked out of the top of her blouse along her back and shoulders.
“Stop staying away for so long! Your father and I miss you!” she scolded.
He lightly squeezed her one more time before setting her down. “I know, I know. Where’s Da, anyway?”
“Oh, fussing with that stubborn ram again,” she chided with a wave. “He will be along in a moment.”
Her eyes slid to me, taking in my bloody gown and disheveled appearance. I looked like I bathed in blood, and I couldn’t believe I was meeting Darragh’s mother looking like I did. I reached up and tried to smooth my frizzy hair. Like that’s going to help.
“Mom, this is Rory. She crossed the threshing wall about a week ago, and she just had a traumatic run-in with some rather brutal men.”
Her hand covered her mouth, and her eyes flicked to my rounded ears. “A human?”
I swallowed and fidgeted with the sash of my dress.
Darragh moved by my side, taking care not to touch me. “Yes. We are working on finding her a way home, and she was attacked by four men in Relystone. Is it alright to let her bathe and give her a clean dress to wear before we head back to the castle?”
“Oh, you poor dear, of course!” She gently hooked my arm into hers and walked me toward the villa. Her mannerisms remind me of Greta, and my heart clenched a little at the thought of her. “I am sure I have a dress or two from my younger years. You’re welcome to whatever I have!”
“You are too kind, ma’am,” I said gently.
She scoffed. “Oh, don’t you dare call me ma’am! Please, call me Justinia.”
Justinia had twinkling blue eyes that creased when she smiled.
Her skin was the same golden tan as her son’s, and she stood a few inches taller than me.
Silver strands shimmered among her dark hair.
She was beautiful. I snickered. “I don’t like being called ‘ma’am’ either.
Your home is lovely, Justinia. Thank you for welcoming me into it when I look a mess. ”
“You still look a right side better than Darragh’s father after lambing season. He walks through my home covered in manure and afterbirth!”
I giggled and looked back at Darragh, following us close behind. He caught my eye and sheepishly grinned, rubbing the back of his neck.
Justinia led me to a modest bedroom with an attached bathing chamber.
“Right through here, dear. Use whatever you need from the wardrobe, and the bathing chamber has soap and towels. Call if you need help with anything. I’ll be down the hall,” she assured and closed the door behind her.
The room smelled of cedar from the wooden furniture, and a small fire crackled in the river-stone fireplace at the foot of the bed.
I shed layers of bloodied clothes, one by one, breathing easier with each layer peeled from my body.
I was one button away from removing the final garment and ridding myself of the reminder of the trauma I endured, but I couldn’t quite reach it.
Stubbornly located between my shoulder blades.
I cracked the door to call for Justinia’s help, but I paused when I heard Darragh’s voice.
“I am sorry to barge in like this.” His voice was low and gentle.
“This is your home. You could never intrude,” Justinia replied. “Da and I miss you.”
“I know. I miss you too.”
Justinia giggled. “I never thought I would see the day.”
“What do you mean?”
“You. Bringing a woman home. She’s beautiful. This is your—”
“Mom,” Darragh interrupted. He dropped his voice to barely above a whisper. “It…This is not that. I am her escort and will be protecting her until we can get her back to Edenalee.”
“And my enchant has never been wrong.” I could hear the amusement in her voice.
I cleared my throat, and Justinia leaned back from the chair she was seated in, peering at me from the corner of the hallway. “Oh, do you need something, dear?” She walked toward me, and I opened the door a bit more.
“Yes, I can’t get this last button to unfasten.” I stepped back and let her into the room, turning away from her and sweeping my long waves aside. She unfastened the button in one breath, my slip slackened, and I held it against me. “Thank you,” I said as I turned back around.
“Of course.” She dropped her voice, looked over her shoulder to the door, and back to me. “He’s a bit closed off, but so are you. You share so many of the same qualities.”
I knitted my brow together and tipped my head.
Justinia gave me a tight smirk. “I am glad you walked into this realm.”
“It was more of a tumble than a walk.”
Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “I’ll be back down the hall.” She inclined her head and breezed out of the room.
I bathed quickly, not wanting to waste time.
The lavender and citrus soap soothed my nerves.
Dirt and grime from the attack circled the drain, washing away the residue of my attacker’s hands.
I could still picture his scarred face sneering down at me and feel a phantom of his hot breath on my neck.
I shook my head, trying to clear the image from my mind.
Justinia’s wardrobe was full of dresses, and I chose one in pale buttery yellow that looked to be my size.
The discarded blood-stained dress lay in a heap on the floor.
I angrily tossed it into the lit fireplace, watching it burn to ash with my vulnerability alongside it.
After the fire consumed the last shred of fabric, I blew out a breath.
Was it Clotha who answered my plea for help in the forest, or another deity whose power had not waned?
I wasn’t sure. I would honor their gift by learning to better protect myself and my daughter.
The yellow dress fluttered around my feet as I turned and strode to the door with a loosened breath.
I unclenched my balled-up fists that I didn’t realize I was holding so tautly, ran my hands down the skirt to smooth any creases, and pulled open the door.
I paused before I could even take a step into the hallway.
The door to the room right across from me stood ajar, and behind that door was Darragh with a towel slung low on his hips, and skin glistening with droplets of water from the bath.
His fingers ran through his dark, wet hair, and he pulled it half up, securing it with a leather strap.
I was impressed with his physique before in the sparring ring when I was so far away.
Up close, he was built like a god. His tattoos were an intricate design of leaves vining around his muscular arms with skulls peeking through the spaces between them.
On his back was a raven tattoo with wings spread across his shoulder blades.
There was a long scar on the left side of his chest over his heart.
A seraph built for strength and combat. Darragh turned toward the door, and I shook myself out of my staring, walking quickly down the hallway, hoping he didn't see me.
Justinia placed some biscuits and tea on the table as I walked into the small dining room.
Beside her sat a man with honey blond hair, greying at the temples, and chestnut eyes.
Darragh’s eyes. He was tall and broad with a jawline and facial features that left little doubt that he was Darragh’s father.
He stood upon my approach and gestured to sit, pulling out a chair for me. “Hello, Rory. I’m Amos, Darragh’s father.” He pushed in my chair as I sat.
I met Amos’ eyes. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for allowing me into your home.”
Amos seated himself across from me. “The pleasure is ours! We never have company. Please have some tea and biscuits. These are my favorites.”
Justinia poured me tea while Amos placed a cranberry walnut biscuit in front of me. I let out a steadying breath. “I feel so much better after that bath, and this dress fits well. I will send it back to you as soon as I can. I promise.”
She waved dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about it at all, dear. The dress is yours now. I insist.”
I nodded with a soft smile. “Thank you.”