Page 12 of Cottage in the Mist (Time After Time #3)

“Nay, you’re no’ alone,” Iain said, his tone commanding. “You’ve got the two of us and the men under our command.”

He kissed her neck and then the hollow between her breasts. Lily sucked in a breath, his touch sending shards of electricity arcing through her. Slowly, so very slowly, his lips caressed her skin, moving up the soft slope of her breast to pull the nipple into his mouth.

Her body contracted as he tugged, desire threatening to tear her apart. “You’re real,” she whispered, her heart singing with the realization. Bram was real. She arched upward, wanting more. Wanting him…

But suddenly the room faded and he was gone.

Instead she stood high on a rocky precipice looking down into a narrow gorge.

The wind whipped through her hair, its frigid breath leaving her uneasy.

Across the way in the distance she could see Duncreag, the stone walls white in the pale moonlight, mere extensions of the rock surrounding them.

From this vantage point it was easy to imagine its former grandeur.

The gorge below was narrow, carved by an ancient river perhaps.

The path, such that it was, veered upward sharply toward the fortress, a series of switchbacks climbing up the mountain, carefully designed so that travel would be truly safe only with the cover of night.

It was barely wide enough for a single horse to pass.

An odd way to think of it, but even before she could complete the thought she saw them. Riders. A dozen or more. Unease turned to fear. Somehow she knew, even without being told, that these were not friends, their intent anything but benign.

Her mind flashed back to Bram. He’d said that his enemies would come after him.

And somehow in her heart she was certain that these were those men.

Some still sane part of her mind knew that she was dreaming.

That this was simply an extension of her fantasy.

But somewhere deep in her soul she was equally certain that the danger was real. She had to get to Bram to warn him.

She looked beyond the gorge, out across the valley, a ribbon of silver marking the path of the river. But there was no light where the cottage should be. Nothing to indicate that he was there. Perhaps he had gone to Duncreag. Her gaze moved back to the tower. In this light it looked invincible.

But no one knew there was danger.

She tried to take a step, realizing only then that she was nothing more than a spirit.

A wisp of nothing. She was here and yet she wasn’t.

Her heart cried out. She needed to find him.

To warn him. Real or fantasy, she needed him to live.

To survive. If only so they could find each other in their dreams.

The men below continued on, winding their way higher, their movements cloaked by the darkness and the sound of the wind as it whistled through the gorge.

Above her, the tower was dark, stark against the sky.

It was late, the inhabitants most likely sleeping in their beds.

Which meant that Bram would be caught unaware.

She screamed, but if she had a voice, the wind whipped it away. Was this a punishment then? Another death to carry in her heart? How had he come to mean so much to her in so little time?

Clearly she was insane. The smack on her head must have caused real damage because here she was standing on an imaginary cliff, in some imaginary time, frightened for a man that had probably never even existed.

Below her a horse whinnied, and something clicked shut.

The sound was incongruous with the scene below her. And the gorge began to fade…

Lily jerked awake, her heart pounding. A tiny stream of moonlight shone from a thin opening between the drapes covering the mullioned window. Duncreag. She was safe. In her room. Relief warred with disappointment.

There were no invaders. It had been only a dream.

All of it, the little voice in her mind insisted.

She ran a finger across her bottom lip, remembering his touch, and shivered, suddenly cold. Then she heard a footstep and turned toward the dark part of the room. The shadows were deep. But she was certain she was not alone. Something had awoken her.

She blinked, trying to focus, but suddenly everything shimmered, as if a mist had descended, the room growing hazy.

Then as quickly as it had come, it was gone and her vision cleared.

She frowned into the darkness. The room was the same, and yet it wasn’t.

The window was deeper. Arched. And the bed was larger. More primitive.

And then he stepped into the sliver of moonlight.

Bram .

“Lily?” he asked, his eyes widening with surprise. “How did you get in here?”

She shook her head, unable to find words.

But she held out her hands, and he was across the room in two strides, pulling her into his arms as he sank down onto the bed.

“I thought I’d never see you again. When I came back this morning, you were gone.

I was half out of my mind. I feared my enemies had found you. ”

He pushed her hair back from her face, his gaze locking with hers.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” she whispered. “So I got dressed and came to find you. But before I could, the cottage disappeared.” Her eyes pricked with tears and the memory. “It was gone, Bram. Nothing left but a pile of stones. I thought I’d gone crazy.”

“Nay, you’re no’ daft, we’re just part of something beyond our ability to ken. Somehow your world and mine have intersected.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Neither do I, mo ghràidh. ” He kissed her then, the fear in her stomach changing to something more primitive. Imaginary or no, she wanted this man. And if that meant a life lived in half worlds, then so be it.

The kiss deepened as he demanded more, and she opened her mouth, surrendering herself to him, knowing that at any moment the dream—if indeed that’s what this was—might end.

His hands skimmed across the soft cotton of her nightgown, and she pressed herself closer, reveling in the feel of his lips as they moved against hers. He pushed her back onto the bed, straddling her, the hunger in his eyes stoking the passion raging within her.

“God’s blood, I’ve never wanted a woman the way that I want you. ’Tis as if I’ve known you forever and still I canna get enough. Have you bewitched me, then?”

She smiled, her lips trembling with emotion. “Whatever is happening, it’s happening to us both,” she said, reaching for him.

The wind whipped against the window, the howling reminding her of her dream—if this could be counted as reality. Suddenly she was frightened again, and Bram must have seen it in her eyes. He moved to pull her into his lap, concern overriding his hunger.

“What is it, lass? What troubles you?”

She swallowed a bubble of hysteria. That was the sixty-four thousand dollar question. But she knew the most pressing thing was to warn him of what she’d seen. Even if she couldn’t explain how she’d actually been able to see it.

She sucked in a deep breath. In for the penny, in for the pound. “There are men in the gorge. Here. Below Duncreag.”

“How do you know that?”

“I saw them from the top of the ridge. They were on horseback. At least a dozen. They were using the darkness as cover. Oh, God, Bram, I think they’re coming for you.”

“But how could you possibly have seen them?”

“I don’t know. One minute I was dreaming that you and I were…

” She stopped, ducking her head, hot color staining her face, but then she shook her head, pressing on.

“…together, then you just faded away and I was standing on the cliff. Only I wasn’t really there.

It was like I was floating or something.

I could see, but I couldn’t do anything. ”

“And that’s when you saw the men?” He was listening now, his mind clearly moving to the threat at hand.

“Yes. They were going slowly. And silently. They were dressed oddly, too. In kilts with blankets or something.” For a moment she stopped, taking in his attire. A roughly woven linen shirt and a kilt that wrapped around his waist and twisted up over his shoulder. “They were dressed like you.”

“The same colors?” he asked, his gaze probing.

“I couldn’t see. They were too deep in the shadows. But the pattern was different from yours. Bigger maybe. If that makes sense.”

“Aye. I’m afraid it does. Can you tell me exactly where you were?”

“I can’t say for positive. I haven’t really seen much of Duncreag yet. But the gorge was to the left of the tower. I could see it high on the opposite ridge to my right. There was a large outcropping of rock. Almost like a ledge. Do you know it?”

“Aye, that I do. ’Tis the entrance to the tower. Iain has men at the gate, but they’ll no’ be expecting intruders at this hour.”

The fear she’d felt while standing on the ridge rose again. “They’re on their way now. I can feel it. You have to go. You need to warn Iain.”

“But I canna leave you.”

She could see the flash of worry cross his face. “I’ll be fine.”

“What if I lose you again?” Pain crested in his eyes. How in the world had they come to this place so quickly?

“You can’t lose me,” she whispered, reaching up to caress his face. “I’ll always be right here.” She touched his chest and he covered her hand with his. “Now go.”

He sat for a moment, still holding her hand as it lay against his chest, indecision warring. And then as if something else had taken control, the room started to shimmer again.

“Lily.” Bram reached for her, but she could barely feel his touch.

“Go,” she urged again. “Please. Protect yourself.”

“I willna let you go,” he whispered fiercely, even as he started to fade from her sight. “I promise you that.”

As if in defiance of the words, the room flickered once and he was gone.

Lily closed her eyes and slowly opened them again. The moonlight still cut a swath across the floor and she recognized her suitcase in the corner. There was no longer a sense of danger, but she still felt a chill work its way up her spine.

Whatever door between worlds had opened, it had closed tightly again.

And be it real or fantasy, she was certain that her heart lay on the other side.