Chapter 4 #3
She was tall and curvy, just like a woman should be.
As his mind touched her for the briefest instant, he saw her insecurities and prayed for the day he could assure his beautiful Tamsyn that she was perfect in every way.
His heart nearly shattered as their connection broke, and he was left wanting her more with every passing second.
“That bitch, that wretched Elven bitch,” he cursed. “Her Spell, her evil Magic, it refuses to give up.”
Pushing himself to the brink of insanity, he slid back into the fantasy.
Back on the hill, with the feel of the grass under his fingers and the breeze bringing the scent of his Mate ever closer, he became impatient.
The hairs at the nape of his neck stood on end as the straps of the leather cord holding back his long, thick braid in place danced along his shoulder blades.
Ready to jump to his feet and race down the hill, Ruairí stopped before he began. His Mate was not alone. She was talking to someone- someone he couldn’t yet see.
Instantly anxious and angry and… and… jealous?
“Yes, I am jealous,” he spat. “She should be talking to me. I need her to be talking to me.”
Holding completely still, not even breathing, the Guardsman thought back through the last few moments.
He took a quick mental inventory, ignored the chuckles and snickers of the Dragon King with whom he shared his soul, and within a single beat of his heart, breathed, “I am indeed jealous, and you, Dorman, you can come out of the depths of your Healing Sleep to taunt me?”
When his stern rebuke was answered with silence, Ruairí wondered if he’d imagined the Dragon King’s chuckle. Was he so lost that all he had left was his imagination?
“NO! I am not lost!” He tried to shout, but his voice cracked and faded. “I am found and I, like Fate, will not be denied!”
Stopping before his voice was completely gone, his gaze returned inward and shot to the image of his Mate.
Instantly, he chuckled at his own silliness. “It is…”
But that was as far as he got before the wonderfully lyrical laughter of his Mate rang out over the flower-filled meadow. “Oh, sure, Sis. Like I’m gonna find my Mate out here.”
“You never know,” the other woman, the one who had to be his Mate’s sister, teased. “What is it, Momma always said?” She bumped Tamsyn’s elbow with her own. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio…”
“…than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” they finished in unison. Then his Mate added, “Yeah, and daddy always countered with, ‘All the planning in the world can’t beat dumb luck. ’”
After they stopped laughing, Tamsyn’s sister went on, “Yeah, well, I don’t think you have anythin’ to do with the plannin’ or not plannin’ or the dumb luck of findin’ your Mate, Tams. It’s all up to Fate, and we both know she can be a fickle…”
“Don’t you dare say it, Peaches!”
“Say what?” Her sister was truly lost.
“You know what you were gonna say.”
“Yeah, I do,” the almost carbon copy of his Mate, but for being a few inches shorter and with strawberry blonde curls instead of chestnut, snapped. “And I know I was about to say, ‘fickle pickle’. What the hell did you think I was gonna say?”
Laughing with such gusto that she had to stop walking, bend at the waist, and brace her hands on the top of her thighs, Tamsyn wistfully sighed, “Oh, goodness, Girl. I thought you were gonna… I mean, I was sure you were gonna… It’s not that I…”
“Oh, shit, Tams!” Peaches swore. “You thought I was gonna call the Omnipotent Being known as Fate a bitch? You must seriously think I’ve got more than a few screws loose, my elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top, and my ducks are runnin’ around all willy nilly.”
“Well…” Tamsyn shrugged before starting to laugh all over again.
Playfully swatting his Mate, Peaches pretended to scowl as she fussed, “Well, I never.”
“Oh, come on now, Sis. You know you have.”
It was Peaches’ turn to shrug as she giggled like a schoolgirl. “Come to think of it, you’re absolutely right. And the Great Goddess knows I’ll do it again.”
“As I always am. You know…”
Interrupted by the most annoying buzz and beep Ruairí had ever heard, his Mate sighed, “Well, there goes that run through the trees. I swear, one day, I’mma gonna throw this danged thing in the trash.
” Then, with an abrupt change of tone and the blessed ceasing of the horrible noise, she stated, “This is Tamsyn.”
There was a weird static in the air, something Ruairí had never heard in all his years. Before he could wrap his head around the strange disturbance, there was a snap of metal, and Tamsyn was groaning, “We have to head back. There’s…”
Unable to hold onto the memory of the first time he’d heard his Mate’s voice, the Guardsman cursed himself for expending unneeded Magic and energy inserting himself in the vision.
He should have been conserving, not using, but he couldn’t have stopped had he wanted to.
It had been worth it to be a part of her world, if only in his own mind.
Part recollection, part fantasy, and a lot of Enchantment, she would also have been worth any cost.
Tamsyn was quite literally perfect. She was gorgeous.
She was smart and intelligent, with a quick wit, an infectious laugh, and a pure heart that shone in a bright rainbow of colors beaming from her aura.
It didn’t matter that everything he saw, everything he felt, and everything he believed with all his heart had come from the Bond they shared as Mates, the Magic given to them by their heritage, and all the blessings they’d received from the Universe.
It was as real as the nose on his face and the shackles on his wrists and ankles.
“I am hers and she is mine,” he declared with a passion so strong that his prison actually shook.
She was the Light to his Darkness, the other half of his soul- just as the Book of the Ancients said she would be. She was the only person in all the world who could heal his broken psyche, and he knew beyond all reason that contacting her was more important than it had ever been.
“She’s asleep,” he whispered to no one but himself. “The time has come, Ruairí. Do it now.”
Holding onto his hard-fought focus with all that he was, the Guardsman rode the waves of calm flowing from his Mate.
He matched her slow, steady breathing. His heart stuttered, stopped, then started again in time with hers.
It was yet another confirmation that the Bobcat Queen known as Tamsyn Ryder was indeed the Keeper of his heart and soul.
She was his Mate, and that was simply all there was to it.
Closer and closer, one final push, and his mind brushed against hers.
His dark, dank world filled with the same Light and Hope he’d felt the first time he’d felt her presence- that day in the meadow.
The very essence of her being exhilarated his broken spirit, started to mend his wounded soul, and warmed his cold, unused heart.
Without thought, he’d spoken directly into her mind.
“Tamsyn…”
Recognition arced between them, exploded in his mind, and skittered down his spine, landing in the depths of his soul. It was pure electricity, the most amazing display of Magic he’d ever seen. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt, and it was nothing short of miraculous.
Willing her to respond, he begged aloud with a pleading in his voice he barely recognized, “Please, Tamsyn.
Please, Mo chroí. Speak to me.”
But she’d stayed silent, sleeping, and Ruairí dared to hope that she was dreaming of him.
He pushed with all the Magic and Mysticism he could muster while pleading in the language of the Ancient Dragons, “Feuch an bruidhinn thu ris an neach aig a bheil gaol ort,” and then immediately in English, “Please speak to the one who loves you.”
Still, there was no response. All he could hear and feel were her slow, deep breaths and the peaceful ebb and flow of her mind at rest, but he would not- could not give up.
Over and over, he called to her. The beautiful moniker given to her by her parents became his mantra, the one thing keeping him sane in that fleeting, heartbreaking moment, keeping him from giving up and letting go.
“Tamsyn… Tamsyn… Tamsyn, Mo gràidh …”
The beautiful creature who smelled of a fresh mountain stream and the sweet, enticing scent of Dogwoods in bloom was to be his savior-and so very much more. There was no reason to deny the truth. It was as easy to see and feel as his prison had been for so many long years.
She would be his life. She was already his everything. She was the one the Universe had created for him. Not Heaven nor Hell nor the prison around him could keep them apart.
He knew she would find him. Felt it in the depths of his soul. His Mate was a Warrior. She possessed an inner strength that rivaled his own. They were truly a match made by the hand of the most powerful meant to bring evil to its knees and make enemies of the Light pay.
Tamsyn Elizabeth Ryder was a force unto herself. She was Magical. She was unstoppable. She was filled with a powerful white Magic, so pure and untainted that it could overpower the evil keeping him prisoner.
“She just has to know I am here.” He breathed the words, a prayer lifted up in the darkness.
He’d seen it all in her mind. It didn’t matter that he only got bits and pieces of her past and present. All he needed to know was that she fought for what was just and right and would always do everything in her immense power to help those in need.
“I must speak to her.” He pushed the words through gritted teeth, his voice low and shaky. It sounds like gravel rolling under a wagon wheel- and his throat burned from how much he’d been using it after so many years of utter and complete silence, but he had to keep trying.
Inhaling deeply, he let the aura of his Mate surround him.
He used everything he knew of her like a bright, shining beacon, and concentrated as he never had before.
Drawing on his incredible strength and years of training, Ruairí pushed everything he had, everything he was, into that one final plea.
“Tamsyn, my love, please answer me.”
Holding his breath, hoping and praying that her mind would open and her subconscious would answer his plea, Ruairí all but lost consciousness before collapsing from complete exhaustion.
Every muscle, every bone, every hair that was left on his head ached from exertion, but his heart would not surrender.
Of their own volition, his heart and soul gathered the scattered remnants of Mysticism limping through his body and shoved it through the Mating Bond he shared with Tamsyn while adamantly declaring, “Tamsyn Elizabeth Ryder, I love you.”