Chapter 8
Floating to the ground, Ruairí transformed back into his human form.
As soon as his feet touched down, he stalked straight to Tamsyn.
Heart filled with more love and joy than he ever knew possible, the Guardsman’s heart skipped a beat when the fur of Queen Bridgette retreated.
There she was, his Mate, as breathtakingly gorgeous on the inside as she was on the outside, and all his.
No longer able to hold back, he took the last step, the one that would bring all his dreams to life. No words were necessary. Everything he needed to know was written on her lovely face. She wanted to be with him as much as he did.
Gently placing his hands on either side of her face, eyes locked with hers, he leaned and laid his lips to hers.
The electricity of their connection caught fire.
The last piece of his soul, Tamsyn, clicked into place.
For the first time in his very long life, Ruairí was whole- and he never wanted the feeling to end, and apparently neither did his fiery Mate.
As his hands slid onto her shoulder, Tamsyn’s arms wrapped around his waist, her fingers dug into the small of his back, and she pulled their bodies closer still. Her soft, womanly curves perfectly fit against the hard planes of her returning muscles, and Ruairí knew he was truly home.
Deepening their kiss, opening all that he was to his One True Fated Mate, the Guardsman felt his Mate doing the same, and his heart soared. It was one of the last steps before they were truly Mated.
Never wanting the bliss of being with Tamsyn to end, Ruairí lifted her feet from the ground and slid his arm under her knees.
Never breaking their kiss, he turned to leave the cave when a chorus of three cleared their throats.
Then a voice he never thought he’d hear again chuckled, “I see congratulations are in order.”
Reluctantly ending their kiss, Ruairí opened his eyes. It was unbelievable- absolutely a miracle. It was almost as wonderful as finding his Mate and escaping his prison- for there stood his brother, Carrick.
Three long strides and he was standing in front of the man who’d taken over leadership of the Golden Fire Clan and taught Ruairí and their younger brother, Gunnar, the ways of the Dragon Guard.
Looking deep into Carrick’s eyes, the Bond they’d always shared as brothers returned to its full luster with fireworks of Magic and familiar love.
Unable to speak, Ruairí could see that his brother was having the same difficulty and loudly cleared his throat as he searched for the words to properly express his immense feelings. But he needn’t have worried. His Mate had him covered.
Tapping him in the chest, she teased, “You might want to put me down so you can give your brother a hug.”
“What?” Furrowing his brow, his gaze returned to Tamsyn’s at the same moment that he realized she was still in his arms. Snickering nervously, he gently pulled his arm from under her knees and set her feet on the floor. “You are absolutely right, Mo gràidh.”
With a smile that brightened his whole being, she stepped back and teased, “Okay…” Motioning between the two men, she giggled, “…make with the hugging.”
Doing as they were told, Ruairí hugged his brother. Opening his mind to Carrick, he let him see everything that had happened. When. Carrick did the same, and Ruairí pulled away. Taking a step back, he slapped his palm to his chest and gasped, “My Brethren? They live?”
“Yes,” Carrick smiled. “Almost all of the Enforcers have been returned to us and will be waiting for quite the celebration when you are ready to rejoin them.”
“That is wonderful, but first I want to… Wait. Almost all?”
With his expression turning dark, the Leader of the Golden Fire Clan slowly nodded. “Yes, it is true. The Lorgaires have not been found.”
“So, Gunnar is…?”
“Still lost.”
Feeling his Mate’s confusion and needing a distraction before the tears he was holding back started to fall, Ruairí turned to Tamsyn. “Gunnar is our youngest brother.”
“Yep, I got that.” Smiling a sad smile, she closed the distance between them and slid her fingers between his, giving his hand a squeeze. “And he was one of the… the… Long… Long… whatever you said?”
“The Lorgaire,” Ruairí corrected. “It is the Ancient word for Tracker.” Swallowing back a fresh rush of emotion, he continued, “Gunnar was the Leader of the Longaire, the Trackers of Force Enforcer, four Guardsmen responsible for tracking down the evildoers we were dispatched to bring to Justice.”
“And they disappeared the same time that you did?”
“No,” Ruairí answered quickly. Then, turning to his brother, he asked, “It couldn’t have been then. They weren’t with us. So, how…?”
“They were called to duty by the Morrigan to find you and the other Enforcers. Fifty years into the search, all communication ceased. Not even the Goddess or her other personas have been able to find them.” Inhaling deeply, he ran his fingers through his dark, auburn hair.
“And, I am sad to say, that is why I must cut our reunion short. Word of Gunnar and the others has reached the Isle of Skye, and I must go.”
“I understand.” And Ruairí did, but saying goodbye so soon after reconnecting with one of the most important people in his life after being separated for so long was bittersweet. The only consolation was that he would find their younger brother.
Looking down at Tamsyn, he read her thoughts almost as quickly as they crossed her mind and smiled.
“Oh, Mo chat bheag, you are a treasure, and I cannot thank you enough for your willingness to let me go with Carrick in search of our brother.” Pulling her close, he laid a chaste kiss upon her lips.
“But I have not been called, and the Goddess does not suffer uninvited guests. She has asked for Carrick, and that is exactly who she expects to see.”
“Okay,” Tamsyn reluctantly agreed. “I know y’all Dragons have a lot of pomp and circumstance with your customs. Just know that I believe family comes first in everything.
” She patted his arm. “And you are my family, which means the big guy over there and the one I don’t know yet are too. So, whatever y’all need- you get.”
“Thank you, Mo gràidh.”
“Yes, thank you very much, Tamsyn,”Carrick reiterated. Smiling, he continued, “And now I understand why you seemed so familiar.” Looking at Ruairí, he winked. “Your Mating Bond was already starting to form with Storm here, and my Dragon King and I recognized you as Family.”
“Storm?” Tamsyn asked.
“Yes, Mo stóirín,” Ruairí chuckled. “Let us go outside, and I will show you.”
“Okay,” she drew out the word. “I’m not afraid of a little wind and rain. Lead the way, Dragon Man.”
“Oh, hell, yeah,” Peaches whooped. “I’m finally in the right place at the right time.”
With a wave of his hand, Ruairí transported Tamsyn, Peaches, and himself to the peak of Mt.
Serenity. Nodding to Carrick, who had also just arrived, Ruairí turned back to Tamsyn because the wind was howling and the rain was pounding.
He spoke directly into her mind, “Stay here with Peaches. I will be right back.”
Tugging on his hand, she crooked her finger and smiled.
Unable to resist, he leaned toward his Mate, smiling when she pushed up on his toes and met him halfway, giving him an intense, passionate kiss that was way too short.
Dropping her heels back to the ground, she winked, “Now, go do what you need to do. I’ll be right here waitin’ for ya’. ”
And he knew she would be. Tamsyn would always be there for him, just as he would always be there for her. That and the protection of the people and Supernaturals was why he and Carrick were about to perform one of the oldest and most protected rituals of Dragonkin.
Meeting Carrick in the center of the peak of Mt Serenity, Ruairí stood facing his brother, sure to leave enough space between them for the Magic they were about to call upon.
A single nod, he bowed his head and reverently requested, “King Dorman, revered Leader of the Red Diamond Dragons, I call upon you to lend your Magic and your Spirit to our cause.”
Without reservation, the Dragon King with whom he shared his soul responded, “It is my honor and duty to answer your call.”
With a mighty whoosh of fiery red Magic, the very essence, the True Spirit of King Dorman flew from Ruairí’s chest, flew in a circle around both Guardsmen, then settled as a superimposed image of his true visage over and around Ruairí.
No sooner was the image complete than did Carrick call upon the Dragon King with whom he shared his soul, and the process was repeated.
“Today, with my brother, Alasdair, I call upon Borrum, the Celtic god of Wind and Rain.” King Dorman’s voice rang out loud and clear. “If it be your will, please recall these mighty Powers, and bring peace to the land.”
And King Alasdair added, “We call upon Taranis, the Celtic god of Thunder. If it be your will, allow the powerful Magic that can only come by your will to return to you, and bring solace to the land.”
“We, Dorman and Alasdair, sons of Alaric,” both Dragon Kings revered in unison.
“Call upon the Fomorians, to recall the personifications of Chaos, Darkness, and Destruction. Please return them to whence they came and allow the people and beings of this land to reside in harmony with the Laws of your Kin, the Celtic Pantheon, Mother Nature, and The Powers That Be.”
Wings unfurling, the Magical representations of the Dragon Kings grew and grew until Ruairí could see through Dorman’s mind’s eye that their shadows covered the entire area of land and sea, affecting the hurricane.
A shining beam of sunlight shone from the joining of the massive battle horns atop the King’s heads, and a voice boomed from above.
“All have heard your call and accept that you, King Dorman and King Alasdair, have the authority and the right to ask for our favor. As the Celtic god of the Sun, Warrior of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and the Deity with reign over Oaths and Justice, I, Lugh, approved.”
With the Celtic god of the Sun’s words still echoing through the Ether, the winds changed.
Swirling and whirling, they inhaled every drop of rain, pulled to them the thunder and the lightning, and with a single gust slammed into the metaphysical wings of the Dragon Kings.
A single thrust, and those unstoppable appendages came together with an earth-quaking clap.
Throwing their heads back, Dorman and Alasdair roared to the Heavens, exhaling every part of the storm. Waiting until even the smallest speck of Earthen Magic had been returned to its rightful owner, the Dragon Kings closed their mouths and lowered their heads.
Together, they praised, “We owe each of you a debt of gratitude and will forever be in your service.”
“Live well, Chosen Ones, for it is our greatest wish,” Lugh answered, the single ray of sunshine He had used to show his favor spreading to encompass Mt Serenity, Defiance, and the entire area affected by the hurricane.
Turning toward his Mate as Dorman’s True Spirit started to recede, Ruairí stopped short and spun back around when Lugh added with a chuckle, “And Ruairí…”
“Yes, your holiness?”
“Take care of Tamsyn and be happy. No one deserves it more than you.”
The smile that broke across his face could not have been stopped if he wanted to, as Ruairí instantly said, “Thank you, your holiness. I plan to make her the happiest Bobcat who ever lived.”
“Ahem.” Tamsyn cleared her throat as she appeared at his side, looked up into the sky, and added, “I’m gonna take care of the Dragon Man here, too. And thank you for savin’ my home.”
“Our home,” Ruairí corrected.
So proud and in awe of his Mate, the Guardsman didn’t even try to hold back. It didn’t matter that they were in the presence of more Deities than he cared to remember; Ruairí pulled Tamsyn to him, wrapped her in his arms, and laid his lips to hers.
Kissing her with every emotion he felt and the promise of forever, he smiled into their embrace when Lugh chuckled, “And that’s our cue to go.”