Page 52 of Darach

She shook her head. “It’s time for me to go. If you can, take me back with you and the Fire sword to Scotland, my love, and bury me by the forest spring.”

“You cannae die, no’ here. We’ve too much to do, you and I. We’re to wed, remember?” Tears slid down his gorgeous face. “You’ve but to make a wish.”

“Bringing Fyn to my time and saving the clan was my wish. You coming along was just perfect.” Charlotte tried to hold onto him, but her hands wouldn’t work anymore. “All of the people in my time that Fyn murdered are alive now. My friend Zoey, and all the police officers he killed will live on, too. Thank you for that. Thank you for loving me.”

“No, my lady, you must stay with me,” he told her, his voice hoarse now. “I dinnae ken how to live without you now. I cannae live without you.”

“When it’s time, wherever I am, you’ll find me again. I know we’ll always find each other, my love.” Her lips curved. “Fyn was wrong. He wasn’t my fate. You are.”

She took one last breath, filling herself with the marvelous woodsy scent of him. It wrapped around her like the warmest of blankets. Death didn’t frighten her anymore; the darkness was quiet and safe, and there she would wait for her love, for he was her immortality.

* * *

As Charlotte’s eyes fluttered closed and her body went limp, Darach took the Fire sword from her bloodied hand, intending to hurl it away. Then his hand slipped into the grip of the amber hilt, and the fire of Prince Ross’s magic surged up his arm and into his chest.

You must be the strong arm of the clan, my son.

“My lady saved the MacRoss for you, Sire,” Darach said. “Now I beg you save her life for me. Give her back what this Carack madman stole from her, and return us to Dun Lasair.” He brought the tip of the blade to his throat. “If you dinnae, then tonight I shall die at her side.”

Fiery red-brown eyes glared at him from his distant memories. You dare end your life over a mortal?

“No’ only a mortal, my prince.” He looked down at his lady’s pale, still face. “As you loved the Fae king’s daughter Avarel, so I love Charlotte. I’m no’ like you, and I shallnae go on without her. I’ve lived too long alone and unloved.”

For my pride I allowed you carry the burden of blood on your face, my son. ’Twas one of my deepest regrets. For that I shall do as you ask, so that you may live on and protect the clan––with her.

Light flickered in the carved amber, and grew so bright it blinded him. He held onto Charlotte as a pure, fiery power swirled around them, lifting them up and then hurtling them down. Darach wrapped his arms around his lover as they fell into warm water only a few feet deep. When he got his boots under him he stood and carried Charlotte to a grassy patch by the bathing spring, and gently lay her on the ground.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, her expression one of utter confusion. “Was I sleep-walking again?”

Darach shook his head, too overcome to speak. He ran his hands over her, but all of the terrible wounds inflicted by the madman had vanished. Everywhere he touched her his sire’s magic sizzled against his flesh as it sank into her body. He recalled the same thing happening to Emery when she had wished to stay forever with Luthias.

Charlotte suddenly gasped and clutched at him.

“I was dying––no, I think I was dead. Then I was standing in the most beautiful garden I’ve ever seen, surrounded by orange and red flowers.” She gripped his hands. “There was a man there, too. He looked just like you.”

“You dreamed of Prince Ross, my sire,” he said.

“He wanted me to tell you something.” She frowned. “You saved the clan, too, by putting an end to the two Fyns. For that, the sword granted your wish. He said something else about changing me to keep you alive.” She frowned and reached up to push back his hood. “I don’t believe it. What happened to your face?”

“Never say you forgot I’m the ugly MacRoss?” he chided.

“Your birthmark.” Charlotte brought his hand up to his left brow, where the raised flesh glided smooth and sleek under his fingers. “It’s gone.”

He could count on one hand the times his sire had looked directly at his marked face. Always the prince had favored Luthias, and Darach believed it was because of the noble, flawless features the laird had shared with his elegant màthair. He and Kendric had been their sire’s mirror image. Darach always believed his own birthing mark reminded the prince that all of his sons would never be wholly Fae, and ever condemned to live in the mortal realm. As such he’d been sure the prince had never once loved him.

He had been wrong.

Helping his lady to her feet, he put his arm around her. “Come, my love. Come home with me.”

* * *

Seeing most of the MacRoss gathered in the great hall filled Charlotte with so much happiness she thought she might burst with joy. Although her life would never be the same, she had found the love of hers. She and Darach had a future now, and it looked more beautiful than any garden she had ever imagined.

She glanced up to see Camdyn standing at the railing looking down at her and her lover, and his bitter expression struck at her like a slap. The smile he gave her in the next moment made his handsome face look unearthly and beautiful, and yet in his eyes was such sadness it made her heart wrench.

Seems that you didn’t see everything after all, Blondie, Zoey would say.

As the clan noticed them and began shouting Darach pulled back his hood to show his unmarked face to his brothers. That silenced everyone, and Luthias came down from the dais to inspect his chieftain’s changed features.