Kat Bastion - Forged in Dreams and Magick

“Iain . . . you know I love you.” I frowned, unhappy I had to admit the sentiment in such an unromantic conversation. “I’m here with you now. I’m broken, though. I left a man behind who is every bit as destroyed as you were when I disappeared. A piece of my heart hurts, Iain. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I loved him very much too. I still do. But nothing about what he and I have changes anything about what you and I share.”

He scowled, crossing his arms. “How can you love two men, Isa? How can you share all of your heart with one man when you give it to two?”

“I don’t know, Iain.” I paced, trying to make sense of it. “When I was with him, he protected me and loved me without hesitation. He kept me alive and safe . . . helped me flourish in his world. I gave him everything of me in return. Not because I felt obligated, but because he’s a good man, suited to me perfectly, and I fell in love with him. Now I’m here with you. You’re a good man, suited to me perfectly, and I’m in love with you. I’ve no idea how that’s possible, but obviously some power outside the three of us seemed to know it would happen.” I placed my hands on his chest again, one over his beating heart, as I looked up into his eyes. “Iain, I wasn’t whole there either. My life is incomplete without you.”

The tightness of his face gentled at my words. He took a slow deep breath and exhaled it. My gaze dropped to his lips, and he dipped his head down, giving me a soft kiss.

He nipped my lower lip as he pulled away, his gaze fixed to the ground again in deep thought. “The box brings together soul mates . . .” Iain made the connection I had, entertaining the notion that greater forces operated beyond our purview. His realization made tremendous strides, turning us onto the same page, providing hope for us to tackle the problem . . . together .

“I’m living proof it does. Only, from my original point of origin, my two soul mates span two millennia.” It floored me to hear the magnitude of my statement.

Iain’s eyes widened. “Och, lass! You were that far back?”

“Yes. I lived in a Pict village. Velloc, the other man, is chieftain of his tribe,” I replied. I relayed my adventure to Iain in summary, providing any pertinent details on a need-to-know basis. I felt no need to share anything that would only cause damage.

“And you think you can manipulate the powers of the box?” Iain asked, doubt lacing his tone.

“I do. Maybe not at first, but with every succeeding touch, I sense subtle changes happening. I’ve absorbed some of the box’s power. Its energy hums through me, my connection to it strengthening the closer I approach. Its vibration beckons me to touch its surface, like there’s a mission it has to achieve, and when it transports me, it accomplishes the task. Each exposure provides another clue to the rules of the game being played with my life. With trial and error, I think I can travel without risk.”

He roared in laughter, stress overruling the bare threads of his restraint. “Doona for a minute think I’m goin’ to allow you anywhere near that thing with you spoutin’ tales of ‘trial and error’ and what you think to be true.” Towering walls shot up around the fragile openness he’d offered.

Okay. Two steps forward, one shove back . . .

“Iain, the box, and even your wall—and its mystery you’ve not yet disclosed—are tied to me. Despite your relationship to them, they’re a part of me. Energy flows through them, feeding into me, and my body responds to their power. To deny me a right to explore that is like prohibiting a child to walk or a bird to fly. We’re linked in fundamental ways. I need to know why.”

He squinted at me, calculation and assessment rattling through his brain as he shifted his jaw left and right. “The cost to what you suggest is high.”

I nodded. Lives were at stake—mine, his, Velloc’s. And how we each fared through the rough seas of the ever-changing storm could even alter the course of history already written, but not yet lived by any of us.

“It doesn’t matter the cost.” My resolve came from many reasons, the key being I couldn’t live with not finding out. Destiny awaited me. If I didn’t have the courage to see my task to its culmination, I knew regret would haunt me for the rest of my life.

His gaze pierced into me as if he sought an answer deep in my soul. He lifted his arms toward my shoulders, but dropped them before touching me. “You’ll give me time. I am a man. You belong to me, and I doona know if I have it in me to let you go . . . to risk losin’ you. Mayhem threatens to overtake my mind at the mere thought of sharin’ you with another.” He growled, curling one corner of his upper lip.

No one would’ve asked for our complicated situation, but we had to cope the best way we could, a limited toolbox and a dynamic project challenging the best of our skills. I took a cue from Iain’s tone: we’d gone to his limits in our conversation.

“Fair enough,” I replied, stepping into his arms.

Iain hugged me gently, resting his chin on my head on a heavy sigh as we clung to the solidity of what we held now, knowing tomorrow held no guarantee.

A cool breeze teased my flushed skin. I darted left, spongy moss beneath my bare feet giving me traction. Iain’s deep laughter rumbled into the silence. My fingers grasped at thin air. The iridescent-winged creature flashed brilliant blue, opening his wings to spiral aloft on a rising current. With a final flap, he vanished up into an oak tree’s canopy, dappled light and shadows camouflaging his wings amid rustling leaves.

I spun around and returned to our picnic defeated, but with a grin on my face from ear to ear. Iain reclined back on a plaid. The sunlight glistened on his glorious naked form and gleamed tones of copper from the chestnut strands of hair fanning above his folded hands.

He closed his eyes. “You were bested by a butterfly.” His lips slowly lifted into a smirk.

“Damn hellion. Eluded my every turn.” I laughed, padding across the woolen blanket and straddling him. The ends of my hair brushed down my breasts and pooled across his chest. I leaned forward, grazing my lips up his neck, whispering in his ear, “Only a butterfly can escape the likes of me.”

I stretched my chilled legs along his, covering his deliciously warm body with mine to steal some of his incredible internal heat.

On a relaxed sigh, I settled into the peaceful moment. I hadn’t forgotten for one second who I’d become—or the multiple facets of my life—but during the gift of time I had with Iain, I vowed to do my best to be completely here with him. At every opportunity, I immersed myself in the bright moments of chasing butterflies or basking in the warmth of the sun. Fleeting seconds of pure joy kept my barely restrained dark thoughts and emotions in check.

Iain squinted up at me through the sunlight blinding him and softly kissed my lips, nipping the lower one as he pulled back. “Isa, I . . .”

Strong arms wrapped around me. Rough hands rubbed up and down my back. His heavy pause and labored breaths hinted at the gravity of the topic before he uttered a word.

“I need you to be whole, Isa. It’s like I have you . . . but I don’t. You had a luster to you that’s dulled. I need you to shine again.” He took a deep breath.

I gave him a wide berth, ensuring nothing I said influenced what he communicated to me.

Several minutes passed before I realized he wanted me to say something. “I understand, Iain. I want to shine again too.” I dropped a tender kiss to his chest.