She smiled when she read the response asking her how long she’d been practicing magic.
“All my life,” she said as she typed and hit send.
That’s all it took for the correspondence to begin. For the next hour they communicated. She learned J was a man and lived right there in Scotland. He told her how he’d only just come into his magic a few years ago and was still sorting things out. It was his mention of a book of spells that intrigued her.
Evie really wanted to see that book. J even offered to let her look at it if she met him for coffee. Which she politely declined.
She was careful not to tell him too much about herself. It would’ve been better had she told him she lived in America or something, but she was excited to find a Druid so close she hadn’t been able to pass up the chance to let him know.
Besides, he was in need of other Druids just as she was. He tried to hide how lonely he was, but she could tell in the way he worded things.
If only she didn’t feel the necessity to hide, she’d already have agreed to meet him. Just thinking of all they could be sharing about magic made her excitement bloom.
It was that same exhilaration that had her looking to tell someone. She closed her laptop and stood. “Is Malcolm in the mountain?” she asked the stones.
“Nay
.”
“Will you bring me to where he’s been staying?”
The stones were reluctant, but eventually they set her on the right path. Evie was a little surprised to find she was back in the dark chamber from the other night.
She took a deep breath and caught a whiff of fresh air. It didn’t surprise her too much because she knew there were several vents located throughout the mountain. But the breath she’d gotten was filled with fresh air.
Evie cautiously walked forward, the stones guiding her all the while. When she came to a boulder or wall—she couldn’t tell which—the shadows began to fade as light filtered in.
As soon as she turned the corner, she caught sight of the opening. It was about three feet high and two feet wide. The light she saw was lightning that lit up the sky.
She walked closer to the opening to kneel down and glanced outside. The rain splashed down on the ledge, causing the water to bounce up on her. When the lightning forked across the sky again she caught sight of just how far up she was and the majestic view of the mountains around her.
“My God,” she breathed reverently. She wanted to see the same view during the day.
So this is where Malcolm stayed? Now she understood. Evie stood and took a few steps back. “Make the opening bigger so Malcolm can stand in it without bumping his head or shoulders.”
The stones complied instantly. With the mountain shaking beneath her feet, she watched as the opening widened and lengthened.
“Thank you,” she told the stones.
Evie gave the stones a pat and turned around. This was Malcolm’s place. She didn’t want to intrude more than she already had. The fact she wanted to know more about him didn’t seem to faze her. The fact he was private and volatile didn’t daunt her.
The fact that he caused her blood to sing and her body to throb with desire only pushed her onward.
For whatever reason Malcolm was in her life. She knew he didn’t particularly care for her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t ogle him whenever he was near. He was a splendid specimen, even with his scars.
She frowned. Not “even with.” Because of.
Yes, she was beyond curious to know how he came to have the scars, and why he seemed to have such personal hatred for Deirdre. That wasn’t the only reason she wanted to know him.
It was the deadness, the numbness she saw in his beautiful azure eyes that pulled at her heartstrings. There would be no changing a man like Malcolm. He would always do what he wanted to do.
Changing him she didn’t want. She just wished to be near him. If she could somehow help him, then she would gladly do it.
“Why?”
the stones asked.
Evie turned and walked out of the chamber. Instead of going left to return to her room, she turned right and found herself descending deeper into the mountain.
“Because,” she answered. “He’s unusual. And he needs a friend whether he wants to admit it or not.”
“He should leave.”
“Tell me why none of you like him,” she urged.
The stones all answered at once, their voices mixing and ringing in her ears as each shouted to be heard over the other. They were talking over each other so loudly she couldn’t hear any of them.
Evie stopped and put her hand over her ears. “Stop!”
Instantly, the stones quieted.
She dropped her hands and waited for her ears to stop ringing from the onslaught. “Obviously there are many reasons. Just give me one.”
“Betrayer.”
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Evie let the stones’ word soak in before she started walking again. There had to be more to the story, more to why the stones had such a hatred for Malcolm to call him a betrayer.
Not that either Malcolm or the stones would tell her the truth.
Evie wandered the long corridors without asking the stones anything else about Malcolm. They in turn said no more about him. It was a truce of sorts.
But how she wanted to know more. Regardless of how dangerous she knew it could be, there was something about Malcolm Munro she couldn’t leave alone.
It was that curiosity she had been plagued with since birth. It had already gotten her into an awful mess, but Malcolm was … different. His scars notwithstanding, he was an enigma she wanted to solve.
She came across many chambers. Most were small with dark stains on the floor. Evie had a distinct feeling those stains were blood. She didn’t stay in those rooms long.
Somehow, she made it back to the cavern she’d seen days before. Except this time she was looking up at the balcony. A look around the spacious area showed her broken tables and benches strewn about.
It looked as if someone had come in and destroyed everything with a wrecking ball. Or something incredibly strong.
“Like Warriors,” she whispered.
There was a loud crack behind her. Evie whirled around to see a section of the floor dropping down. She walked to it and looked into what appeared to be caves on either side of a wide area.
“What is this?” she asked the stones.
“The Pit. Veryyyyyyy useful for Deirdre.”
“How?” she asked with a shudder. What light came through wasn’t enough to see more than the outline of openings on either wall beneath her.
“It was used to break Warriors to her will.
”
Well. She’d asked, after all. “Were the MacLeods held here?”
“
Aye. Quinn. Marcail ruined it all.”
Now that wasn’t something she’d expected to hear. “How? How did Marcail ruin things?”
Never mind the fact the stones confirmed a MacLeod brother had been held there. That alone made her heart thud against her ribs.
“Deirdre wanted Quinn for herself. He should’ve been herssssss.”
“Yeah, well, we don’t always get what we want. So Quinn and Marcail were together?”
“Yessss. Deirdre tried to kill her. Then the others came for Quinn. They killed Deirdre’s Warriors and her wyrran.”
Evie straightened and swallowed. “There was a battle here?”
“Fallon and Lucan came for Quinn.”
Fallon, Lucan, and Quinn MacLeod. Interesting. “You said Deirdre tried to kill Marcail. So she failed?”
“Barely.”
“You enjoy death, don’t you?”
“Deirdre was our mistressssssss.”
Evie realized things were getting a bit creepy regarding Deirdre and the connection to the stones. Malcolm’s warning ran through her mind, but Evie decided to remain within the mountain. She wasn’t Deirdre. Nor was she evil. “What are the wyrran?”
“Creatures Deirdre created,” Malcolm said from behind her.
Evie spun around in surprise. Her foot slipped on the edge. She flailed her arms wildly in an effort to keep her balance and not go falling into the Pit.
Suddenly, she was yanked against a chest of solid, unyielding muscle. Evie flattened her hands against his damp shirt and felt the heat of him, the power.
It made her quiver with longing so deep, so intense it took her breath for a moment. She looked up into azure eyes filled with … nothing.
Not even that could dampen her attraction to him. He held her securely, gently against him. His wide, full lips were so close. All she had to do was rise up on her toes and fit her mouth against his.
What would he do? Would he push her away? Or would he return her kiss? Evie was tempted to find out. Just as she began to go up on her tiptoes, he spoke.
“You doona want to go into the Pit, Druid. You willna like what you find.”
“I know,” she said and tried to swallow. “The stones told me Deirdre used it to break Warriors.”
She half expected him to jerk her away from him. Evie found she couldn’t move. Malcolm was like a magnet, and she was the answering side of that piece of metal who had no choice but to go to him.
No matter the threat, no matter the risk.
The darkness, the mystery surrounding Malcolm only drew her nearer. It was like she was destined to encounter him, their lives intertwined in ways she couldn’t begin to fathom yet.
“Are you all right?” he said in a low voice that sent chills over her skin.
“Yes.” In his arms, she realized she was more than all right. She was comfortable, calm. At ease.
“Good,” he said and took a step back, releasing her. “Be careful what you find in this mountain, Druid. The stones willna always be there to help you.”
She watched him walk away and wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. “Infuriating, irritating man,” she murmured.
* * *
Malcolm fisted his hands before he flexed them. Damn but he could still feel the Druid’s softness and allure. He wanted to rub his chest where her hands had been. It was like he’d been singed his skin burned so hot.
And the devil take him, but his cock was as hard as the granite he walked on. Need, intense and stark, sizzled in his veins.
It burned him, branded him. The need made it difficult to breathe, to form a coherent thought. He was on fire. Every thought centered on a Druid he didn’t dare touch, but couldn’t keep his hands off of.
A Druid who would be better off if he would leave her now and never look back. But he couldn’t. No matter what argument he used, he found himself staying in the hated mountain.
“Malcolm,” she called from behind him.
He inwardly winced at the sweet sound of her voice. It slid over him like velvet, inviting and tantalizing. Combined with her magic that kept him in a constant state of yearning, he was surprised he could think at all.
As if she had some pull over him, Malcolm halted and waited for her to catch up. She came even with him while her hands played nervously with the strings hanging from the waist of her fuchsia sweatpants.
He tried not to look at her, but once again he found himself drowning in the depths of her clear eyes. The innocence, the purity he saw reflected there reminded him of the fiend that he was.
“Thank you.”
His nod was wooden but words wouldn’t come. He looked over her head at the doorway. It was just steps away. If he could get away from her, he could calm his heated body and right his thoughts once more.
“Do you feel anything?”
Her question surprised him enough that he met her eyes. “What?”
“You heard me. Do you clamp down on your emotions to keep them hidden?”
“Nay. I have no emotions.”
“Don’t be a wanker,” she said testily. “Of course you have emotions. It’s up to you whether you show them or not.”
Malcolm leaned down so that his face was even with hers. He blew out a harsh breath and glimpsed a small ringlet near her face billow out. “Doona pretend to know me, Druid. You know nothing of my life, nothing of what I’ve done. I’m dead inside.”
He straightened and walked around her. Four more steps and he was out the door.
Just as he reached it, she said, “If you didn’t feel anything, then you wouldn’t be here trying to keep me from becoming what Deirdre was. And you wouldn’t have saved me from falling just now.”
His steps slowed, but he refused to stop. She was wrong. He knew what was inside him. A hefty measure of nothing.
And desire he couldn’t shake.
Malcolm didn’t stop until he was in the darkened room that had once been a prison. He threw off the soaking wet shirt and then came to a dead stop when he saw the opening that was now three times the size it had been.
No more did he have to sit in order to view the scenery. He knew exactly who was responsible. The Druid.
But why? He’d been nothing but testy and rude since he first woke her and demanded she leave. He didn’t want her kindness. What did a man like him do with kindness?
He’d been hardened by a brutal attack, life-altering debilitation, and a
drough
who made sure his soul was knotted with hers.
Malcolm sighed and walked to the opening before stepping onto the ledge. The storm still raged, the wind lashing him like a whip. Rain pelleted him viciously, obstinately. He lifted his head to the sky and closed his eyes.
Above the storm, he heard the distinctive sound of wings. The beat was long and deep, which meant it wasn’t Broc. It was a dragon.
Was the dragon here for him or enjoying the few seconds of freedom he got by taking to the skies? It didn’t matter why the dragon was there. Nothing would change.
The Druid.
Malcolm didn’t want to be concerned over her, but she was his responsibility. He had been quick to judge her. The others would likely do the same. He’d given her a chance—though a slim one—to change his mind, he wasn’t sure if any of the others would.
His decision made, Malcolm released his god and jumped onto the side of the mountain. He used his claws to anchor him to the rocks as he jumped higher and higher up the mountain until he reached the top.
He let loose a bolt of lightning that extended from his hand to the next mountain. That’s all it took for the beat of wings to come closer and the form of a dragon to be seen in the clouds.