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.
CHAPTER Twenty-two
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.
His tone grew more commanding. “We do this my way, though. I need to be involved. My instincts scream for me to protect you from harm, yet the moment you go, I’ve lost the power.” He pulled an arm up between us, grasping my chin with his fingers, locking his gaze onto mine. “My. Way.”
The urge to relinquish the reins to him was an irresistible temptation, and my independent streak gave way to my man offering his protection. My guardian bared his soul, yielding to my plea, and I made an internal vow to ease his upcoming struggle every way I could as a rush of optimism flooded in.
I nodded, grinning. “Yes, Iain. Whatever we do, we do your way.”
He laid out a rough plan he’d obviously been crafting. I bounced what-ifs off him. Through the afternoon, we ran scenario after scenario until we felt we’d exhausted what would likely happen, what could happen, and what we couldn’t imagine happening, but went there anyway.
In the end, his way ended up being a team project, along with a couple of absolutes he demanded that I adhere to for him to be able to live with his decision. I agreed to the stipulations, not only because of how far he’d come in accepting my continued adventure, but more importantly, because they epitomized all his core qualities: commander, strategist, protector, fighter . . . lover. My enormous respect for him demanded my care and diligence in honoring those wishes.
“Two days,” he said when we’d finalized our plan. “Give me two more days to spend every moment lovin’ you. Then we’ll see if you’re right.”