40 WHERE I BELONG

AN INSTANT AFTER she hit the ground, Bree was up and running, flitting left and right, just as Tiv had—darting from shadow to shadow as she’d learned during warrior training centuries earlier.

But The Ravens knew all her tricks.

An arrow brushed past her left ear, so close the feather fletching tickled her skin. Another grazed her shoulder, scoring the thick leather armor she wore.

She changed her pattern, ducking right and then left, and then left again, faster and faster, until her feet were flying over the ground.

The hill rose before her, and she raced up it. Arrows stung the air like vicious hornets.

Curses ripped through the stillness.

The Ravens knew she was close to escaping them.

Thud. Thud. Thud . Three more arrows sank into the damp earth right in front of her.

Bree leaped them and raced for the gap between the two largest stones.

She could feel the earth magic now, prickling her skin. However, there was no time to let it bother her. She had bigger problems right now.

Her time was up. Any moment, a bolt would bury itself between her shoulder blades.

Desperation exploded in her breast, along with a fierce determination. No, they wouldn’t stop her—Cailean was waiting on the other side, and she’d not disappoint him.

And so, she dove like a swallow, tumbling headfirst through the gap in front of her.

Just as an arrow cracked against ancient stone, and another whistled just above her head.

Bellows of rage followed before abruptly cutting off.

She’d left Sheehallion behind and stepped into the no man’s land between two realms.

A heartbeat later, Bree rolled to her feet in the midst of the circle. And just like when she’d passed through before, mist enshrouded her. The air was heavy, pushing at her on all sides, and moving forward was like wading through porridge.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed on, putting up her hands to shield her ears as the ringing began.

Iron, it hurt.

The veil between the two realms wasn’t easily breached, and it resisted every step.

Hissing curses, she fought it, leaning into the mist, head bowed, as she crossed the gap between the stones, step by step.

It was hard though, the hardest passing so far. As the book they’d found in the archive at Caisteal Gealaich had warned, the stone circle remembered her and was issuing a warning.

Just one last time!

The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and she realized she’d bitten her tongue. Her head swam as the air pressed in, as if it wished to crush her to a pulp.

Screaming a curse, she punched at the mist before her, battering her way through it.

Two steps more and then suddenly, the pressure gave way. An instant later, she was falling.

She landed hard on her face.

Icy cold embraced her, and she dragged in a lungful of dank air, sobbing as relief swept up her throat.

She’d done it.

She was through.

Pushing herself up, she peered into the murky Albian dawn, where snowflakes fluttered like apple blossom from a purple sky. She realized then that she was trembling; the strength of her Shee form had deserted her. Her muscles were weaker, her body softer and more ungainly. It would take her a few moments to get used to it.

A cry ripped from her throat. “Cailean!”

“I’m here.” Strong hands grasped her under the arms and dragged her forward, from under the shadow of the stones. “I’ve got you.”

An instant later, Cailean scooped her up, crushing her against the wall of his chest, and carried her down the hill, away from The Ring of Caith.

Still shaking, Bree clung to him.

The scent of leather, smoke, and clove wrapped itself around her—and the tension that had knotted tight under her ribs slowly released.

At the bottom of the knoll, he set her down. Feannag and Skaal were waiting for them under the bare, snow-encrusted branches of a hazel tree that grew on its own, a few yards back from the woods.

Cailean gently took hold of her chin and raised it so their gazes met. Her husband looked frozen to the marrow. The tips of his nose and ears were red, and his breath steamed in the gelid air.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, his thumb sweeping below her lower lip, and coming away red.

“It’s nothing,” she gasped. “I bit my tongue on the way through, that’s all.”

Cailean’s gaze dipped right then, his eyes narrowing as his hand lowered to her shoulder guard. Bree stiffened, knowing that he’d seen where the arrow had scored the boiled leather. “Were you attacked?”

“Aye.” She swallowed. “Mor’s raven spotted me yesterday … and she sent her bodyguards after me … the same ones who tried to abduct Lara.” She shuddered then as the realization of how close she’d come to being captured hit her. “They nearly had me.”

Cailean breathed a curse. He cupped her face then, staring deep into her eyes.

In the dim light of dawn, his gaze was dark, anguished.

An ache rose under her breastbone. “It’s all right,” she whispered, covering his hand with hers. “I’m here now … where I belong.”

Cailean stared down at his wife’s lovely face. The pale morning sun highlighted the freckles that dusted her nose. Frank hazel eyes, filled with centuries of knowledge, stared up into his.

The curves he remembered well strained against her leather vest and tight leggings. She was much shorter in her Marav form. Of late, he’d gotten used to his wife hardly having to lift her chin to meet his eye; she felt a little different in his arms. More fragile, softer. She no longer smelled of rose. But the husky timbre of her voice was the same as before.

“You are,” he replied, wishing his voice didn’t sound so naked, so vulnerable. Gods, he’d worried about her these past two days. He’d tortured himself with visions of her captured and executed. He hated feeling so useless. His wife had been running for her life, and he’d been standing around, freezing his balls off, while he waited for her.

Bree’s full lips curved then, even as her eyes gleamed. “It’s done, Cailean,” she whispered. “I’m Marav again … like you.”

“I would have loved you the same, even if you’d remained Shee,” he reminded her, his voice catching.

She swallowed. “I know.”

Silence fell then, The Whistle shrieking around them as the snow swirled. A blizzard was rising. However, they remained locked in each other’s arms.

The pressure in Cailean’s throat tightened. He wanted to catch hold of this moment in his hand, like a snowflake. But just like the delicate fragment of ice, time couldn’t be held prisoner. Nonetheless, the exhilarating relief that swamped him, under the looming shadow of The Ring of Caith, ignited a warmth deep in his chest—one not even the biting wind could dull.

He had his wife in his arms once more, and now their life together could start properly.

He became aware then that he could no longer feel his feet.

They needed to get out of this bone-numbing chill. While he’d been waiting for her, he’d built a shelter out of pine boughs on the edge of a clearing within the woods. He couldn’t wait to take his wife into their shelter and love her long. Heat ignited in the pit of his belly as he anticipated entangling himself in Bree and sinking deep into her.

Dragging himself out of distracting thoughts, ones that had turned his prick to wood inside his breeches, Cailean focused on practical matters. He needed to move before his feet turned to lumps of ice. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded. “Starving.” She lifted a hand to stroke his jaw, shadowed now by a few days’ beard growth. The night before, he’d cleaned himself with handfuls of snow—a bracing experience that left his teeth chattering like dice. However, he hadn’t bothered to shave. “I’ve barely eaten anything since we saw each other last … there wasn’t any time.”

“Aye, well, luckily for you, I’ve been busy,” he replied with a wry smile. “I’ve got a fire burning nearby … and a haunch of venison roasting. It was Mid-Winter Fire, after all.”

She rewarded him with a grin. “Welcome news, indeed.” She paused then, glancing around at the swirling snow. “I suppose we should build a shelter. We won’t be going anywhere in this blizzard.”

Cailean smiled. “Fear not … that’s already taken care of too.” With that, he scooped her up in his arms once more and turned, heading toward the tree line.

Silently, Feannag and Skaal followed.

Bree laughed, even as she wound her arms around his neck. “What are you up to?”

He grinned down at her. “You’ll see soon enough.”

And with that, he carried her into the woods.