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“Just like that, you let me go?”
“Have I tried to stop you?”
It’s a trap,Admiral Ackbar shouts in my head.
I turn over his words, looking for the hole. The mine that I’ve somehow missed. It can’t be this easy. I’m missing something, but what?
“I haven’t learned anything anyway,” I say, feeling an urge to justify myself. Why, I have no clue. I don’t owe him an explanation. If I owe anyone an explanation it’s Duncan, but he’s four hundred years or more gone so that’s not happening. Dugald continues staring ahead, silent. “Seriously. I thought this Druid was going to teach me to harness magic, to use my power, but all we’ve done is cardio. Run, jump, drop, roll, repeat. Over and over and over. It’s ridiculous. I don’t have time for it.”
“You say that a lot.”
“What?”
“Time.”
“Isn’t that something magic can help with?”
“No.”
I’m rocked back by his simple denial.
“No? That’s it? What’s the point?”
Shaking his head, he smiles. “That’s up to you, Destroyer.”
“No, don’t you do it. Don’t turn this back around and call me that. We were having a nice time but there you go doing it again.”
“And what is it I’m doing?”
“Turning my words back on me. Making it all about my decision.”
“There is power in a decision. Especially yours.”
“I don’t want this.” I dig my nails into my palms until I’m sure they’ll draw blood. Clenching my eyes closed I inhale sharply and hold it. “I don’t want any of this.”
“You never do.”
“What does that mean? You keep saying cryptic statements like it. Are you trying to sound wise? Is that some game?”
He moves, rising and turning, grabbing my arms and pulling me off the bench with him. He’s close. So close he takes my breath away. Our faces are less than an inch apart and I’m suddenly and acutely aware of his maleness.
His musky scent is heady. His strong, stubbled jaw, his full lips. The fire that should be anger is instead raging desire. I lean in, wanting more, wanting him closer. His arms enclose me with crushing strength. His eyes are twin bonfires raging and I see my reflection burning in them.
“This is no game.”
I’m intimately aware of the movement of his lips as they form the words. I touch his face, pushing a wild hair back behind his ear and realize I’m not curious as to what his lips taste like because I know.
How, I don’t know, but I do. I’ve tasted his lips. I’ve known him.
Except, I haven’t. I struggle to breathe as reality shifts and bends around the two of us. It’s always come down to this. The three of us, caught in a triangle that never ends, over and over.
“Dugald.” I exhale his name and its heavy with emotions that are flooding out of some part of me that I didn’t know existed.
“Quinn,” he answers, his voice deep and husky. The sound of my name rumbles in his chest, vibrating against me.
I push up onto my toes, moving towards his lips, and then something changes. I can’t say what, but in an instant everything is different. He pushes away, whirling and facing the trees. I drop back onto the bench and I’m left gasping.
“What… what was that?”
