Page 36 of A Fine Scottish Spell (The Magical Matchmakers of Seven Cairns #2)

T he familiar softness of his bed cradled him, or at least it felt like his bed.

But before Gryffe dared to open his eyes and reveal his consciousness, he breathed in the scents of the surroundings to make sure.

The faint acrid hint of wood smoke came to him.

The old leather upholstery of his chairs.

Fresh linens. But best of all, the alluring sweetness of Emily’s perfume, his favorite scent of musk that he always asked her to wear.

All this dared him to believe the goddesses had truly sent them home, and this wasn’t some sort of trap.

He cracked one eye open, then opened them both to the cozy bedchamber, dimly lit by a few sputtering candles on the mantel and the tables beside the bed.

Contentment washed over him as he gathered Emily closer, spooning his body with hers.

She sleepily hummed her approval and snuggled back against him, treating him to a contented sigh that reminded him of the cooing of a dove. “We’re home at last,” she said in a breathy whisper that thrilled him. She had finally claimed this place as home.

“Aye, my love. Home at last, indeed.” He kissed her shoulder, then raised up and frowned down at her when she flinched and drew away. “What is it, my own? Did I hurt ye, somehow?”

She twisted and tried to touch the back of her left shoulder. “It’s sore right there. Like a bad scrape. Can you see anything? I don’t remember falling, and they never made physical contact with me.”

“Let us see.” Mairwen and Grennove the healer spoke as one as they stepped out of the shadows.

“Holy cripes!” Emily squeaked so hard she choked and reeled into a coughing fit.

“What the devil is wrong with the two of ye?” Gryffe demanded of the women as he rubbed Emily’s back to soothe her. “Hiding in the shadows of our bedchamber?”

“Forgive us, grand chieftain,” Mairwen said, her sarcasm unmistakable.

“But if ye recall, the last time we spoke, yer wife was as still and cold as the dead. Ye joined her, ye stubborn fool. We have watched over the two of ye, waiting for ye to either return to us or move on to the next life.” She motioned to Emily.

“Turn this way, child, so Grennove and I can have a look at what’s paining ye. ”

“Wait.” Gryffe took the candle off the bedside table and held it high. “I shall be having a look at my wife’s injury first.”

The candle’s glow revealed a mark similar to one that only a rare few had ever received from the mothers.

The sign of the triple goddesses. A waxing moon, a full moon, and a waning moon.

All three touching. The symbol of the triple goddesses: maiden, mother, and crone.

But this tattoo was rarer still in that the full moon portrayed within its roundness, the tree of life, its many roots mirroring its spreading branches, symbolizing the interconnectedness and unity of all things and the cyclical way of life.

He had only seen this particular version in ancient books, and he struggled to remember its significance.

“They marked ye, my love,” he said. The brand they had placed upon her, imprinting it in stark black, had been cut deep into the flesh of Emily’s shoulder. It was an open wound that would take a bit of time to heal.

“They placed their mark upon ye as well, my chieftain,” Grennove said. “I have a salve that will ease the pain and help the both of ye heal all the quicker.”

The old healer eyed him with a look he couldn’t read.

“Speak yer mind, Grennove. Ye’ve never been one to hold yer tongue before.”

“Mairwen?” Grennove turned to the Weaver. “Ye ken more about these things than I. Perhaps ye should explain the truth of that mark. I dinna wish to dishonor it with misunderstandings.”

Mairwen peered at him, her startling blue eyes narrowing. Then she turned and pulled at her tunic, baring her left shoulder. “I wear the same label,” she said. “The sign that proves I am a direct descendant of the mothers.”

“But I am not,” Gryffe argued, rolling his shoulder as if the thing could be shrugged off his flesh.

Emily pushed herself up to sit among the pillows and gingerly leaned back against the headboard.

She hugged the bedclothes higher to hide her nakedness and raked a hand through her wild hair.

“So it’s true, then? What you said when they held us captive?

It wasn’t just a bluff about my great-great grandmother? ”

“Ye told them ye knew of the secret? All of it? My ancestry included?” Mairwen stared at him in open-mouthed wonder.

“Aye, I also told them ye’d left sealed texts with every detail of the secret to be opened if ye ever disappeared from our presence.

” He grinned. He couldn’t help it. “I told them ye had given a copy to every Weaver in creation. I also shared that if they didna leave me and mine alone, we would see them forgotten across the ages and every realm—and we would also wage war upon the Highland Veil itself.”

“And they believed that lie? Me safeguarding myself with sealed texts?”

“Of course they did. My dark side proves useful at such times.” He offered a nod. “But I would advise ye to make that lie a truth—for yer own safety. I dinna think that place where we were would be bearable for an eternity.”

“It most definitely wouldn’t be.” Emily rolled her shoulders and flinched again. “So, is this mark proof that they accepted our demands to leave us alone, or does it mean war?”

“That mark is their vow to protect ye as one of their own,” Mairwen said, but her scowl hardened with a fiercer glower.

“Even yerself, my grand chieftain, because ye fought so valiantly for yer mate. But dinna trust them. They are as fickle as any human. More often than not, their only concerns are for themselves rather than the goodness of others.”

“So, they’ll leave us alone now?” Emily asked.

“They should,” Mairwen said. “But remember, it was they who brought ye here and shielded ye from us only to try to rip ye apart once more.”

“About that,” Nicnevin said, her expression a bit sheepish as she shimmered into view.

“Has my feckin’ bedchamber taken the place of the great meeting hall?” Gryffe scooted back beside Emily and hugged her close. “And which one of ye stripped me down afore putting me to bed like a bairn?”

“I believe ye already know the answer to that,” Nicnevin said as she sat on the edge of the bed. “If not, I sorely misjudged yer intelligence.” She offered an apologetic tip of her head. “I thought it time to confess. Now that everything has come to pass so beautifully.”

“Ye brought her here, and then ye lied about it.” Gryffe stabbed his finger in the air, pointing at his mother. “I knew it was yer doing. I knew it.”

“The mother goddesses never would have allowed yer fated mate to come to ye because of her ancestry,” she said quietly. “I had no choice.”

“Ye knew about her ancestry as well.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed the inner corners of his tired, gritty eyes. “And ye thought not to mention that?”

Nicnevin shrugged again. “I had heard rumors—nothing substantial, you understand. I didna wish to cloud yer reasoning with such things in case they held no truth.”

“We have been manipulated into marriage and parenthood,” Emily said, directing her words to him alone. But she didn’t sound angry or filled with regret. She seemed almost…contented. “So, are we expected to do stuff like this to our children so they know how much we love them?”

The uncertainty weighing so heavily on his heart slipped away, leaving him in peace. He gifted her one of his rare smiles and kissed her forehead. “I suppose so.” He shot a sideways glance at his mother. “We shall have to consult with the expert on manipulation.”

“Absolutely, my darling daughter, and never fear,” Nicnevin said to Emily, “I shall be most happy to help.”

“Feckin’ hell.” Gryffe scrubbed his face. “She’ll have our daughter fully turned to the dark side afore we know it.”

“I thought we were having a son?” Emily arched a brow at him. “Or are you admitting that Tayda was right? We’re getting one of each?”

“Aye, one of each.”

“I see.”

Something in her tone raked across his senses, pleading for help and comfort. “Leave us,” he told everyone in the room. “My dear one and I have much to discuss.”

“I shall go to make the salve,” Grennove said. “Fresh is best for those markings. We dinna wish to fade them.”

“I shall help with the herbs,” Mairwen said. “This time of year, fresh herbs are rare as hen’s teeth.”

“I suppose I shall just go,” Nicnevin said, and promptly disappeared.

Gryffe turned to Emily. “What is it, my love? When ye first awakened, ye were at peace—but now?” The way she stared at him, pensive and hesitant as though afraid to speak, alarmed him even more. “Please, Emily. Tell me.”

She stared down at her hands in her lap. “I know they were just trying to manipulate me, but…”

He held his breath, waiting and worrying about what the mothers he had once admired had done to put such fear into his own. “But?” he gently encouraged.

She twitched a shrug, then flinched and squirmed, gingerly rolling her shoulder. “Damn. I keep forgetting about that until I hit it.”

He laid his hand atop hers. “What did they do, my own? What did they say to ye?”

Head bowed, she released a heavy sigh. “The babies will live, but I won’t.”

Terror shot through him, rending his heart in two. “What?”

She lifted her head, chewing her bottom lip with a nervous frenzy. “They said I won’t survive the birth.”

“They lied. Ye will survive. I will not think otherwise, and ye should not dwell on it a moment longer. Ye ken well enough I refuse to allow ye to leave me.” Emotions throbbing into a choking knot in his throat, he gathered her close and kissed her forehead.

“Both yerself and the wee ones will be well,” he whispered. “I swear ye will be finer than fine.”

She hiccupped, a sure sign she was struggling not to sob.

“I told them all that mattered was that the babies lived. I told them you would love them enough for both of us, and Nicnevin would spoil them rotten.” She sniffed, fighting back the tears.

“I also told them I didn’t believe what they said.

” She hugged him tighter and whispered, “If I don’t believe, then it can’t happen. Right?”

“Absolutely, my love.” But he didn’t feel the words. The fear of losing her was too strong, too stubborn to release him from its icy grasp.

“Mairwen and Ishbel will help me fight them, too. I know they will.”

“We will all fight them,” he reassured. “Nicnevin has taken a keen liking to ye. She would protect ye with her life.” A strange warmth filled his heart.

One he had never felt for his mother—not ever.

“As soon as the weather eases up, we’ll shift to Seven Cairns.

I dinna wish ye out and about when it’s so bloody cold.

It canna be good for yerself or the wee ones. ”

She nestled her head on his chest and hugged him even tighter. “That’s fine. I’m just so happy to finally be home.”

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes tightly. Since when did feckin’ tears dare to show up in his eyes? ’Twas shameful! “I am glad we’re home as well, my own,” he said, struggling to keep the roar of emotions out of his tone. “More glad than ye will ever know.”