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“I’ll be here for you, Lia.”
His words drifted across my skin, like a cooling breeze from the ocean, and I took a deep breath. Although I still found elements of this deeply confusing, I understood enough that I needed to make a decision.
“Okay, then. Let’s get started.”
CHAPTERTWELVE
Munroe
“It’s a bit of a rag-tag operation you’re running here,” I commented to Lachlan as Archie readied whatever supplies it was he needed. I kept one eye on Lia, who seemed overwhelmed but was holding her own, and did my best to tamp down on my own reservations. “Stone of Truth? Three challenges? Myths coming to life? You’re lucky Lia didn’t run from the house screaming like a banshee.”
“Och, don’t get me started, mate. It’s been a mess to figure out, let alone attempt to bring others into. And we’ll have to do this again, and again, and again.”
“How many times?” I asked.
“Nine to complete the Order.” Lachlan grimaced.
“Seems you’ll be able to streamline things by then, eh?” I couldn’t help but lend my business mind to things.
“Streamline…” Lachlan laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell me how we’re supposed to do anything when a bloody broonie jumps into the picture? It’s bad enough we’ve got Clyde scaring people witless. Now, a broonie?”
A plaintive “moooo” sounded from somewhere above our heads, and I grinned.
“Now you’ve gone and hurt the poor lad’s feelings,” I said. Lachlan pinched his nose and sighed.
“Sorry, Clyde,” Lachlan grumbled.
“Can I just use my own knife?” I turned as Lia stood, talking with Archie.
“I don’t see why not,” Archie said. “Is it meaningful to you?”
“It is. And as weapons go, it’ll do the trick.”
“Let’s get your knife and get it sorted out then.”
I hung back, not wanting to intrude on this moment for Lia, but also wanting to be there for her. I couldn’t imagine what she must be feeling. I mean, it was a lot for me to wrap my head around, and I’d grown up with tales of the Kelpies and was well-steeped in the myths of Scotland. But for a newcomer? Surely it was a testament to who she was as a person that she didn’t run screaming from the castle grounds. It made me admire her even more, this willingness to give it a go, and I thought back to how good she’d felt wrapped around me.
How right.
I’d wanted to sink into her, both physically and emotionally, and never let go. It was an incredible thing, this recognition that I held inside me for Lia.
It was like my heart had taken one look at her, sighed in relief, and said,“there you are.”
I wanted to learn everything about her. To peel back the layers. To find out what her greatest fears were, to learn who’d hurt her in the past, and to make everything right for her future. I wanted to protect, uplift, nurture…all of the things. Instead, I hung shyly at the back of the group that walked across grounds sodden from an earlier rain, fighting my emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.
Watching Lia step into her power was an incredible honor. I wanted to be there for her every step of the way, cheering for her, and helping her in any way I could. That had always been my favorite part of the fantasy stories that I devoured growing up—when the hero or heroine finally claimed his or her power. It was such a pivotal moment in the character’s life, and I’d eaten that shit up. I think, in some respects, I’d hoped to gain the confidence to do so in my own life, stuck in a cold and unforgiving home environment. Was it that much of a leap to understand why I’d been drawn to fantasy novels and fairy tales where the hero overcame the bad guy? I wasn’t one for metaphors, really, but even that one was hard for me to miss.
I suppose, in many respects, I’d proverbially thumbed my nose at my parents with my gin business, but that decision didn’t really have the same badass pomp and circumstance surrounding it as did Lia choosing her magick.
“Look at her glow,” I said, and Lachlan turned, hanging back with me, as Lia stood with Archie and lit a bundle of sage. There were words to be repeated, rituals to be made, a blessing made in each corner of the estate. To me, the words didn’t matter, nor did the exact nuances of the ceremony. I didn’t need to hear the spells or understand the way magick worked to see, very clearly, the transformation in Lia as she partook in the ancient ritual of accepting her role as a member of the Order of Caledonia.
“She’s a lovely lass, Munroe,” Lachlan agreed, and I shook my head, reaching out to grip his arm. I needed my friend, in that moment, to stand with me while I felt my future shifting on its axis and recalibrating around the woman who stood before me, quietly muttering words of magick.
Was there ever anything as beautiful as a woman stepping into her power?
My breath caught as Lia finished the final ritual, and Archie closed the spell. A shimmer of light rippled across her skin, and she lifted her face to the loch, power humming around her. She’d been beautiful before, of course, but now?
Lia was heart-stopping.
