Page 5 of Loched in Love

She’s not fainted as I’d first thought the moment I caught her, but has instead been rendered unconscious by the strength of the waters, most likely from the amount of magic coursing within the moat after so many long years.

Adrenaline pounding in my veins, I make way to the large castle doors and kick them open, uncaring when they swing wide and ricochet into the stone walls. I tuck my mate into the crook of my arms and cover her ears for fear of her wee eardrums. “Help!” I bellow, sending my voice careening through the old keep, knowing everyone within has supernatural hearing and will come scurrying in a moment.

“Well, it looks like she made it in time after all,” Whitley calls out, and I turn to find the castle chef walking from one of the parlor rooms wearing her white uniform, her brown hair up in a tight bun. My best friend, and the werewolf Doyle’s mate, grins from ear to ear, before reaching my side and squealing happily. She leans in to hug us both awkwardly, obviously excited for my good fortune.

“Isn’t she bonnie? I can’t wait to know her name,” I say, holding out the lass carefully for her to see.

“She is, Lachlan. Take her to the library and make sure she gets out of those wet clothes,” Whitley says, nudging me toward a set of double doors while she tuts at the large puddles of water now in the doorway.

I wince at the mess I’ve left and reach out with my power to magically gather the water from the floor and extract the damp from our clothes in one smooth pull.

I can already sense from the strain of it that without my trident made whole, most of my magic has been made useless, but I can at least try to tidy my messes.

“Thanks,” Whitley murmurs, seemingly impressed by my trick.

“She won’t wake. I think she’s been put under a spell from the moat,” I say, before moving past her to make my way to the library, not wanting to waste any more time.

“Oh, good you’re here,” I say in a way of greeting to Vlad and Aubrey, seated near the fireplace.

Aubrey sits up, rising off Vlad’s lap, her long blonde hair a mess and clothes askew, likely her mate’s fault. She straightens her white blouse and climbs off Vlad to stand near his chair.

I glance around the expansive walls of the library, my gaze coasting across the various portraits dotted in between the vast rows of bookshelves, finding the room greatly changed since the last time I was in it. Lots of new shiny items are dotted about the library, no doubt Connor’s doing.

It’s been centuries since I’ve been able to step foot inside.

“What the bloody hell?” Vlad exclaims, his gaze on the treasure in my arms as he gets to his feet.

I stride across the room to deposit the bundle in my arms onto the couch, only to freeze just before doing so. My heart gives a flutter in my chest, a small pit forming in my stomach at the realization that I’ll have to stop touching her if I do.

“Over three hundred years I’ve waited for her,” I mutter, forcing my fingers to uncurl and let her go. My hands tremble with the want to pull her back into my arms, but I back away a step when Whitley shows up at my side, a blanket in hand. I quickly cover the lassie’s body, tucking it around her shoulders gentle like.

Even though she’s dressed in a white shirt, shorts, and boots, I still want her covered. Her brown shorts are bloody short, and I’m grateful to Whitley and for her foresight to know I’d want to protect my mate’s privacy.

“Thank you,” I say to Whitley, and pull her into a tight hug.

Setting her on her feet when I hear her mate clear his throat, I round on Vlad. “Can you call Odette?” I ask him, grinning when I find him seemingly shocked to silence.

The cranky old vampire’s gaze goes to my chest, and his facial features change slightly, his lip curling as he looks up at me. “Would it have killed you to put a shirt on?”

“Making you uncomfortable, am I Vlad?” I bounce my brow and flex my chest before pulling him into a bear hug too, ignoring his protests as I squeeze him to me, unconcerned with the fact I’m wearing only swim shorts.

He doubles down in a show of strength trying to pull away, but I don’t let him, knowing not many get the chance to show the wary male affection.

“It’s bloody good to see you,” I say, clutching him that much harder to me as he lightly struggles. He may be a powerful vampire, but instead of wasting away forever like he chose, I’ve had hundreds of years of strength training and storing my magic.

Given the time and progress I’ve made, it would take a much more formidable opponent to ever best me the way Vivian did ever again, and I highly doubt any one entity could be as strong as I’ve gotten.

“Get off me!” Vlad finally announces, his body going stiff in my arms.

I let him go after a few swift pats to his back and chuckle. “It feels good to be free.”

“Doyle, find Lachlan a shirt, and some pants to put on,” the vampire grouses.

I turn my head and find the werewolf standing just inside the sliding pocket door, dressed far more casual than I’ve ever seen. The man is usually wearing butler-like garb, and I realize Whitley must have a hand in his new appearance. Happiness swells within me to know my best mates are having such good fortune and seem content with one another.

Connor O’Doyle beams a smile before crossing his arms over his gray t-shirt and nods. “Good to see you out of your pond, Lachlan. I knew I smelled a human earlier while on a run and hoped I hadn’t scared her off,” he says, glancing behind me at the woman on the couch.

Before I can start explaining to him what’s happened, Whitley appears at my side again, shoving an armload of clothing at me this time, which I take gratefully.