Page 2 of The Finest Scottish Fate

She gave the young women a dubious look. “We did not coax those three to come for a visit, but Forestor and Thedia have combined their magic to see if one or all of them might be in search of the other half of their souls.”

Callum rolled his shoulders, trying to shake away the unpleasant memory of what had happened the last time Forestor Grimheart and his mate, Thedia Ironsunder, had mixed their magic. “I thought we’d decided the mixing of troll and dwarf magic had become too volatile.”

“They swore to be more careful this time.”

“That makes me feel so much better.”

Morganna glared at him. “Sarcasm helps nothing.”

Their arms swinging in perfect tandem, Jadrack and Epsily hurried across the square and halted in front of Callum as if reporting for duty.

“Aye?” Jadrack puffed out his burly chest and folded his arms across it. He appeared oblivious to the problem at hand, but then, dragons always did.

Epsily rolled her eyes and jutted her chin higher. Even in her human glamour, the kelpie’s features still bore a resemblance to the long, angular face of a horse, and her mane was just as wild. “The latest mortal is more than ready to join with the other half of her soul.”

“Then why is she not here?” Callum pinned a hard glare on the being, daring her to stretch the truth, as she sometimes did to cover her own arse.

“She thinks our emails are a scam.” Epsily shuffled back a step, a sure sign she was telling the truth. The boastful, big-spirited kelpie never retreated unless she had failed.

“So we sent a registered packet,” Jadrack said, coming to his mate’s defense. “That should convince her.”

“Yet ye have not received a reply,” Morganna retorted. “Are ye certain the moon properly blessed the waters in the divining bowl? The goddesses have tampered with visions before. Ye feel sure it was that woman in America and not one of these three who arrived yesterday?”

Callum scrubbed his face with both hands, then held them up for silence. He’d heard enough. “Did Jarrah and Petra agree with yer findings?” While Petra Montgomery was in fact a mortal witch, she descended from a long line of druids, and magic flowed strongly in her veins. Even her mate, Jarrah MacAnany—a rare wulver, a Scottish werewolf from the coastline—both feared and revered all that his beloved Petra could do if she so set her mind to it.

“Jarrah and Petra agreed,” Epsily said.

“Petra did the divining herself,” Jadrack added. “We merely observed.”

That made Callum feel a little better. He turned to Morganna. “I fear ye must fetch this American woman. Perhaps then she’ll not think someone is trying to harm her.”

“Bah!” Morganna huffed in disgust. “I knew ye were going to ask that of me, and ye know how I feel about the mortal’s way of flying.”

“I am sorry, my love, but ye know as well as I that we’ve no time to spare. Especially not after losing ground with the three who fractured.” He moved in and kissed her cheek before she could dodge him in her irritation. “No one can handle this task as well as yerself. I am sorry. But we’ve no choice.”

“I know.” She turned away and stared up at the ominous, swirling clouds, a subtle warning only those of the magical realm would notice. A resigned sigh escaped her.

All of them had noticed that the magical wards that guarded Craig Durness had fired off warnings more times than any of them could count as of late. The Fae and the gods were tiring of waiting for the curse to run its course and destroy them.

Those of Craig Durness had to match more fated mates as quickly as possible—and match them right this time.

“I will leave first thing tomorrow,” she said, then pointed at Jadrack and Epsily. “Help Forestor and Thedia research the next match. We must make haste, ye ken?”

Jadrack and Epsily bowed to her, then nodded to Callum and took their leave.

Callum caught hold of Morganna’s hand as she turned to go. “We will prevail, m’love. We have come too far to do otherwise.”

Her eyes gleaming with tears of frustration, she touched his cheek with the tenderness that always made his heart swell. “We will prevail because we must. I refuse to lose ye.”

“No one will lose anyone, my own. We have the magic of love on our side.”

*

Nashville, Tennessee

Late September 2026

“Come on, Mac.” Evie Waterton adjusted her dispatch headset and settled in to charm the road-weary freight driver on the line until he gave in and took one last extra haul to finish out the week. “This load’s not so bad, and it’ll put you into bonus miles for a third straight week. Christmas shopping starts soon. Didn’t you tell me that little Macky-man wants one of those fancy drones this year? Those things are pricey, you know.”