“You ended up on MacLeod land, so you should have MacLeod protection,” I reiterated, leaving it at that when I knew she brimmed with questions…and confusion. About why she was here. About me.Us, as she saw it. All questions I shared now I knew Storm was involved. What was she up to? How did Aspen know her? I had even more questions, but now wasn’t the time to address them.
Not when, despite my best intentions, I only became more and more aware of Aspen, from the sweet scent rolling off her candlelit skin to her proximity. How easy it would be to reach out and touch her. Find out if her hair was as soft and silky as it looked. Find out if she would startle at my touch like she’d stirred at my mind brushing hers every so often as she slept off the effects of time travel. To the best of my knowledge, what she suffered was unheard of, but my mother claimed it could happen to dragons drawn to their fated mates.
Though new to me, she clearly spoke the truth based on what I felt from Aspen as she slumbered. It hadn’t gone nearly as smoothly as it had for Storm over the years, and it troubled me.
“If you must know ’tis because she feels shunned by her mate,” my mother had said, giving me a look. “Most dragons who find each other across time don’t shun each other from the start. Some have, but not many, because it can affect how they transition to their new era.”
We had gone back and forth about that for a time, me denying I’d shunned Aspen, but clearly, some part of me had because of Storm. To say I hadn’t been worried about Aspen’s state of mind would be a lie. More often than not, I wanted to be closer to the room in which she slept, wondering if she would have been better off in my chambers on the other side of the castle, set apart from the bustle of everyday life, where she could feel the cool wind blowing off the sea.
“Aspenshouldhave protection whilst she is here,” Kenneth agreed, returning my attention to the ongoing conversation. He issued her the same flirtatious smile he had aimed at plenty of females over the years. “And itjustso happens I intend to stay on until Tavish and Sloan return, so I will gladly offer you my personal protection.”
“How convenient,” Lucas drawled dryly, shooting Kenneth a look before offering Aspen one of the dimpled smiles women seemed to appreciate so much, still speaking to Kenneth even as he gazed at her. “When I clearly heard m’laird say she should haveMacLeodprotection.” He quirked the corner of his mouth and arched an eyebrow at Kenneth. “And you are no MacLeod but a MacLomain, aye? So ‘tis probably best thatIprotect her.”
Our kin, including the MacLomains and Hamiltons, had come together with many females across time,so none of this was far-fetched. Hell, our own mothers and grandmothers were from the future.
“Yet I'm certain neither of you is the reason I’m here,” Aspen said softly but boldly to Lucas and Kenneth, given it was more than most might say in her position. She offered them a small smile. “Not to say I’m ungrateful for your offers of protection or that I don’t hope you’ll show me around at some point—” she shook her head, her gaze flickering from me to them, bold indeed— “but you’re not the one I’m here for so a tour or two would be great then I’d better get back to check on my sisters.”
No one needed to ask who drew her here because all were fully aware of our dragon's reactions to each other. My father grinned and winked at me, clearly liking her for standing her ground despite her frayed nerves. Speaking her mind when most might remain quiet and see where things lead, given the reason for her arrival,meevidently, wasn't being as welcoming as she might have hoped.
“Here’s to that, then.” Father raised his whisky and kept a warm smile on his face, doing what I probably should have done had Aspen not muddled my mind. “Welcome to MacLeod Castle. May you enjoy your stay, and might your inner dragon find everything she seeks.”
While a typical enough toast, I caught the innuendo, and no doubt she did too by the way her gaze again flickered to me, albeit more tentatively this time, as if she couldn’t help herself.
After that, there was much talk about nothing, in my opinion, as Aspen asked everyone questions about our clan and era. Yet, it was probably the most riveting few hours of my life. Not because the two of us spoke all that often, but because I enjoyed listening to her voice, however discreetly, choosing to let my kin share things with her rather than me. It was bestfor now so I could keep things in perspective and, yes, keep her at a distance until I better understood her connection to Storm.
Something I didn’t want to discuss her first time below stairs.
Yet it seemed, as Aspen already demonstrated several times, she had a curious and straightforward manner, especially when seeking answers. It likely didn’t hurt that she had enjoyed a few sips of mead, but I could not fault her for that. Being at MacLeod Castle in an era so different than one’s own, surrounded by Highland dragon shifters, wasn’t for the faint of heart, even if wewereat our tamest right now. She was still a twenty-first-century female who I sensed had never embraced her dragon in a room with nothing but my aging mother and four sizable males.
“So, does anybody here know someone named Storm?” she finally asked, meeting everyone’s eyes but mine, telling me her courage only went so far regarding this topic. “Because, based on letters I've received from her over the years, she clearly knew of the MacLeods. Better still, its laird.”
“Or perhaps ‘tis her fear that runs too deep regarding this topic,”my mother whispered into my mind in response to my thoughts about Aspen's lack of courage not looking at me when asking about Storm.“Perhaps she doesn’t want to hear the answer because deep down in a place she barely understands, made of her dragon, she couldn’t bear to hear it.”
While one part of me wanted to avoid this topic altogether because I struggled to understand my response to Aspen, another appreciated her forthrightness and felt she deserved the same. Not just that, but I was the laird of this castle, making me her keeper above all others while she was on my land, so I would give her the truth.
“Theydoknow the name Storm because she has been a close friend of mine for a long time.” I looked her inthe eyes and spoke plainly because I would want the same from her if our roles were reversed. “In fact, ‘tis safe to say up until quite recently, I was in love with her and wished her to be my mate.”
Aspen’s pupils flared, and her mouth dropped open before she snapped it shut and visibly gathered herself. “You can’t be serious?” She shook her head slowly, struggling with disbelief. “We can’t be talking about the same Storm. There’s no way.” She kept shaking her head. “She wouldn’t…this makes no sense.”
“She wouldn’twhat?” I wondered, desperate to know. Understand. How had Storm been such an important part of her life for what I gathered were years when she was our age, living in medieval Ireland with her fated mate? “Tell me what you know of Storm? How you—”
“Enough, son,” my mother said softly but sternly when my voice must have grown too intense. “’Tis clear this bothers Aspen every bit as much as it does you.”
That was an understatement. Yet my mother was right, seen clearly in how Aspen’s hand shook ever so slightly as she took several more sips of mead. Her skin had paled, and her posture had grown more rigid. Even so, she once again showed she was no timid flower, shying away from the topic at hand, however difficult it may be.
“No, it’s okay, Chara.” Aspen cleared her throat before speaking to medirectly. “The Storm I know wrote letters to me and my sisters long before we even knew each other existed, given we were so young and born to different mothers. The letters came randomly, looked like they were written on very old parchment, and always had a distinct image engraved in the letterhead.”
“And what was this image?” I asked, still struggling to make sense of this. Ithadto be some sort of strange coincidence.
“A fiery wolf.” Her gaze went to my sheathed Viking sword resting nearby. “And that.”
“Surelynot.” Astounded, I shook my head and denied it because it seemed too incredible. Too much to wrap my head around. After all, Viking sword aside, Storm was a fiery wolf. “This cannot be.”
“Yet I’m pretty sure it is,” Aspen said softly, a flicker of sadness in her eyes I knew had everything to do with me doubting her when she pushed up her sleeve and revealed a delicate tattoo on the underside of her wrist. “So says this.”
Stunned, I leaned closer, sure I was seeing things wrong, even as everything inside me told me I wasn’t. The tattoo on her wrist was indeed part of Storm’s signature, as it was a replica of the Viking blade she and her mate had given me recently, hoping it would serve me as well as it had them when it brought them together.
“What did youdo, Storm?” I whispered, trying to understand why she had done this. What did she hope to achieve?
