Chapter Three
THE LAST THING Constanceremembered, Aodh had turned into a huge Viking king and held his hand down to her. The next thing she knew, she faced a demon in the darkness, and the beast from her nightmare stole her away like he had time and time again. Forced her to go with him. Fly with him.
Then live for him.
She gasped and opened her eyes only to scream when he was right there. So close. Ready to steal her away yet again.
“No,” she roared, struggling against him when he held her close in what seemed an endless frigid sea. “Let me go!”
Everything darkened and lightened several times before the world snapped shut, and she bolted upright and screamed again.
“It’s okay, sis.” Shannon came out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around her. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
“Where am I?” she said hoarsely, her mouth so dry she could barely manage the words. Everything was blurry. Impossible to see.
“You’re safe.” Shannon held something to her mouth. “Now drink and hydrate.”
Trusting Shannon above all others, she allowed her sister to pour the cool water down her throat. Grabbed hold of the cup and drank greedily the moment she knew what it was.
“There you go.” Shannon pulled the cup away and replaced it with another. “Now more. Finish it up.”
So she did, relishing every last drop before she sank back into the softness of what had to be her bed back on the outskirts of Boston. Back where she had felt somewhat safe. Where a bible had rested in reassurance on her bedside table.
“Thanks, sis,” she whispered drowsily. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
When she opened her eyes again, she realized she had dozed off. More than that, she’d slept peacefully for the first time in longer than she could remember.
“Hey, there.” Shannon, who had evidently sat in a chair beside her bed the whole time, was the first thing she saw. “How do you feel?”
“Good,” she admitted, amazed she wasn’t parched as usual. She stretched and smiled. “Really good, actually.”
Until her eyes drifted beyond Shannon’s face to the medieval chamber beyond.
“Oh, no,” she gasped, bolting upright again. She took in the spacious room with heavy, dark furnishings and a fire crackling on the hearth and shook her head, confused. “What happened?” Trying not to panic, she looked at her sister. “Where am I?”
“Safe.” Shannon sat on the edge of the bed. “Safer than I think you’ve been in a long time.” She handed her a cup. “Now drink. Please. You need to stay hydrated.”
She wasn't thirsty but did as asked because she knew it was the only way Shannon would keep answering her questions.
“Tell me what happened,” she repeated after several sips. She dreaded her sister's response but needed to know. “Where am I?”
“You’re in King Aodh’s castle.” Shannon made things clear when Constance grimaced and shook her head in denial. “You’re here because he saved you, and for now, this is the only place you’re safe.”
“How could he have....” She kept shaking her head. Tried to make sense of the last thing she remembered. Yet another nightmare of him stealing her away. Waking up drenched in sweat in New Hampshire. Too hot. Needing to escape again. Needing to flee to Siobhán.
Then a dragon stopping her.
Aodh, but not.
“No,” she whispered when he held down his hand to her. When she grew so hot, her limbs gave out, and everything went dark.
Before she went on denying everything that might have happened after, Shannon launched into a retelling of what had actually taken place. How a Viking named Ulrik defended her against Siobhán’s warriors when she first traveled back in time. How he only looked like Aodh because Aodh was all she could see. All that existed in her mind when it came to dragons.
