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He yelps because my strike throws his balance off. He swings his arms wide, waving them to keep himself upright. He skids to a stop on the pine needles, narrowly avoiding hitting a tree. He spins on one foot and raises his hands to either side.
Power crackles along his arms. Purple lightning crawls along his limbs as if the electricity itself is alive. He raises his fists and swings. I bring up my arm and block the blow. The days spent with the Druid doing what I thought was only cardio pay off. I’m stronger than I was and my body shows it.
Dugald swings again and I easily block it. I swing back. We exchange blows, or attempted blows as the music of battle crescendos in my head. I need this. A release for the frustration, anger, and the exhaustion.
I throw a feint at his face, then punch for the gut. He catches my arm and jerks me towards him. His arms wrap around my waist as I smash into him. My breasts are crushed between us and I’m instantly aware of his manhood. Rage does an instant twist into desire, so fast I’m left confused.
I tilt my head back, parting my lips. Wanting his on mine. Needing this.
He leans in. We’re both panting, chests heaving against one another. Hearts pounding so hard I feel it in my bones. I grab around his neck and pull him into a kiss. Right before our lips touch, he jerks back and turns away.
“No, not this time.”
ChapterTwenty-One
My poundingheart is building the pressure in my head as Dugald and I stare one another. I’m breathing heavily while raging hormones demand release. Anger, lust, exhaustion, and the hurt of rejection, almost none of which makes sense. Confusion leaves me reeling, but his words repeat, echoing through my thoughts. Trembling, I step around him and force him to meet my eyes.
“What do you mean, not this time?”
Dugald’s frown engages his entire face. More, his entire body becomes a frown.
“You need to return to the Druid.”
“Answer me.” I don’t raise my voice, but my muscles quiver and I’m dancing on a knife’s edge between resuming the violence and walking away.
“Quinn—”
“No. Do not Quinn me, not now. What is this, Dugald? What are these feelings? What is happening? I need answers.”
The blanket of darkness that engulfs the area around us recedes along with my anger. In its wake there is a more natural dusk. Overhead, the first twinkling stars appear. A soft breeze blows, rustling the trees. The sounds are background to this new conflict between Dugald and me.
No. That’s wrong. It’s doesn’t feel like a new conflict, it’s old. Like we’ve done this before, been doing this forever. Just like this, the two of us facing off, again and again. Always with the same result, but what result? Dugald takes a deep breath and rises to his full height.
“I cannot say more.”
“Cannot or will not?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it does,” I snap, teetering towards anger. “Cannot means some outside force has bested you. Will not means you’re an asshole.”
His eyes flash and his left hand clenches into a fist that he quickly releases. He shakes his head.
“Quinn, you know how to push a man.”
“Good for me,” I say. “Perhaps if I push you hard enough, you’ll tell the truth. Now answer the question.”
“Which one?” A grim smile forms on his face.
I close my eyes and count to ten. Anger isn’t going to accomplish what I want. What I need. Talking with Dugald is an invitation for mysteries. So many questions unanswered, every conversation leading to an understanding of how much I don’t know. I sift through the questions I have and come back to the first one. The one that has plagued me since I returned to this time.
“Is he alive?”
“You need to—”
“If you tell me to go to the Druid, I’m going to kick you so hard in the junk.”
That stops him. He makes a tsk sound then shakes his head.
