Chapter 12
LACHLAN MACBETH
She’s a bloody virgin.
“That’s why I don’t know what’s come over me. It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never invaded anyone’s privacy like that before and it’s not like me,” she continues, obviously getting more agitated by the second.
Her cute face is scrunched in confusion as she pulls at the linen napkin in her lap and avoids my gaze. Like she’s done some great travesty by looking upon me in the morn, her mate by all supernatural rights.
A virgin means I’ve done well to keep my mitts to myself, and I’ll definitely need all of my strength and power to keep from hurting my wee mate.
Though she’s got more curves than the ocean and is soft in every way a man could want, I could hurt her easily, and I’d rather cut off my own tail than ever harm her.
“Elena, look at me,” I say.
Those big blue eyes I hope to gaze into for all my days turn to me, and the want to take her into my arms is almost overwhelming. I open my palm and wave it around, magically cleaning up the mess of water I just sprayed everywhere, and force it to evaporate with my hand.
“I’ve magic, my flower. And we have a bond between us that’s only begun to expand.
These intense feelings of wanting to see what I look like, or more, I feel them too.
But until I get my trident fixed, I’m a liability.
I’ll not mince my words, and I mean to tell you the full truth of it, and the whole of the story. ”
“You have a trident? What story?”
“How I came to be cursed in that moat you saved me from, and why I’ve got to get us both to Dozmary Pool before we can make our way to my loch,” I tell her plainly.
“Alright,” she says easily. “What’s at Dozmary Pool?”
“The Lady of the Lake,” I tell her, and her gaze widens.
“She cursed me and broke my trident, the main source of my power, and incidentally the only way to open the door to my home. All because I spurned her and told her I wouldn’t mate bond with her, as I was saving myself for my true mate, you.
A witch helped safely lock me into the moat at the castle until you arrived and released me,” I finish, leaving out the tiny details.
“Wow,” she replies.
She blinks as if absorbing the information, but doesn’t seem overly perturbed by my having to make a pitstop to fix a magical object. Perhaps there’s hope for us after all.
Silence stretches between us with only the hum and clack of the train sliding along the metal tracks to fill it, and I wait for her cue to see how to react.
She sits in the chair, her leg folded under her, with one elbow propped on the arm, her face skewed into a look of concentration.
“So, let me get this straight. The Lady of the Lake cursed you because you wouldn’t mate with her, and broke your house key slash trident, and we have to go visit her and ask her to fix it? ”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to see your very magical and powerful ex who’s basically a legend that I thought was a myth, to fix your magical trident?” she repeats.
“Would you like to see it? I should probably make sure it’s still packed safely, and not broken or leaking,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. “I’ve not thought to check on it since we left the castle.”
“Leaking? What do you mean leaking?” she asks, her blonde brows furrowed.
I smile, thinking to myself how differently this conversation could be going with how this morning began. My attention snags on the waiter opening the door and pushing a cart no doubt holding Elena’s breakfast, and an idea forms.
“Let’s get you fed and then I can show you my trident,” I say.
“Alright,” she agrees.
A few minutes later and I’m pulling the mid-sized luggage Whitley packed for me from under the seating area, and presenting it to Elena on the bed.
“Whitley somehow already had this ready to go before our travels. She’s my best mate, and she thought of everything on how to get it here safely.”
I unzip each side and open the compartment that holds the simple jar protecting my most prized possession, and pull it out for her to see.
She folds her arms over her chest and squints down at it, her hair tucked behind her wee ears.
“Come here. I’ll need a bit more water to show you,” I grumble. “With it being broken, it’ll shatter if I try to take it out without it.”
“What?” she asks, but follows me into the tiny bathroom.
I turn to where she stands before the basin of the sink, liking how the small space forces her hip to push into mine. “Do you see it’s fashioned into a key?” I ask her, handing the container to her.
She takes it gently and peers at the glass. “Yeah, but it looks like it’s broken.”
“It is. Watch.” I take it back from her to open the lid and turn on the faucet.
Using my power, I remove the magicked key from the jar and form a large sphere of water in the same breath to float above the marble sink and encase the key.
I then will the trident to expand partially, bringing the bronze weapon out to show her how one prong is demolished—completely missing from it.
“She broke it with her magic, and unfortunately most of my power is tied to it. I was given it when I was a young lad, and there’s no other way to get inside my home without it.
So you see, I’m stranded, and my magic will only get weaker now that I’m not in my monster form until I get it fixed.
I’ve no choice but to try to get her to repair it. ”
The air suddenly feels too scarce to breathe in the cramped space when her expression turns unreadable. I want to tell her I need her, that I’m bloody terrified of going alone, but I’m trapped in silence because this woman, my mate, has only known me for a matter of days.
“Okay.”
I shrink the trident back down into the jar, unperturbed when it fashions itself back into the key Odette created so long ago, and turn the faucet off before putting the lid back onto it carefully.
I glance at the woman at my side, and panic rises in my sternum. Just this morning, I shied away and hid in this very bathroom for fear she’d run screaming in terror at the sight of me, and now here I am, practically begging her to come with me, on a journey she didn’t choose.
“Lachlan?” she says, sending a knot to lodge in my throat.
“Yes?”
“How’d my shower gel get into the shower?” she asks.
My skin is lobster red watching as she grabs her body wash from the shower, eyeing it suspiciously.
“I—”
She whirls around, and scans me over. Her gaze starts on my hair that I know is tied back at my nape, and down over my chest it goes until it lands on my groin and her expression morphs.
Heat fills her gaze as she stares at me, and I fight to not fidget with the jar in my hands.
The accusation hangs between us, and I struggle to form the words to make amends.
But she leaves me no room to do so.
Rising up onto the tip of her toes, she leans in toward me and lodges her pert nose at my collarbone, as if trying to reach my neck and inhales.
The soft fleeting motion and rustle of air grazing my skin twists my insides into jagged points of need, and in that moment the room seems to fade into the background.
“You smell,” she finally murmurs, her voice dripping with yearning, “like me.”
She lifts her chin and presses her lips to mine.
In an instant, I brush my mouth to hers again delighted at her response when I hear a faint moan climb her throat. She kissed me.
Her tongue slides into my mouth and lust burns through my brain, as the kiss turns hard, then soft, then hard again. I eat at her mouth with my own, completely enthralled by just the feeling of her lips on my own.
My cock grows, straining to reach her, and sparks of light shimmer behind my gaze as she wedges so close I can feel the heat of her.
I move to press her more firmly against the sink, intent on filling my hands with nothing but her. A sharp shrill crack echoes, followed by the sound of tinkling glass that I feel impact the boots on my feet.
Bloody hell.
“Oh no,” she cries.
Instantly I gather her into my arms, intent on keeping her from the shards of glass, and turn the faucet handle again to save the trident before it turns to ash. As soon as I’ve a bubble large enough to hold the key, I tug her to my chest and hug her to me, rubbing her back with my palm.
She seems to melt into me at the lightest of touches, and I grin from ear to ear as warmth spreads through me. My wee lass trusts me.
“The key?” she asks, raising up off my shoulder after a moment.
“Not to worry. We’ve a wee cup that I could carry it in somewhere, aye?” I answer.