Page 8 of Her Scot of Bygones (MacLeod Dragons #2)

–Lucas–

I WAS NEVER so caught off guard as I was when Hazel claimed the little girl at the hazel tree on Sutherland territory was her until I witnessed her pleasure at seeing the Sutherland boy and realizing who he was.

After all, Evan Sutherland had once been a close friend.

That is, until he became my greatest enemy.

Yet there he was, heading for a woman I cared a great deal about, without understanding why, other than to assume I wanted her because she was my fated mate. Or at least she better be because the longer I was around her, the more desperate I became for her in ways I’d never been for another. I couldn’t say why, outside the obvious, because her beauty and scent alone would drive a man to distraction.

Something painfully obvious when she found a way into a far too tight tunnel I didn’t know about, and I stopped her from going back to Sutherland land. I knew she was bluffing to try to get me to tell her who Evan was, and I meant only to place my hand over hers before she could trace the pattern that opened the hidden door, but I lost myself in her nearness instead.

How could I not when she softened against me and I caught the scent of her arousal when I flicked my tongue ever so gently over her sweet flesh? When she turned her cheek and seemed as desperate to draw me in as I was her? If all that weren’t tempting enough, causing a near crippling erection, when she turned, stood on her tiptoes, and slowly pulled my lips down to hers, I thought I would burst with need.

Our mouths hovered close as if we relished the anticipation and mingling of breath before I went to close the distance, only to freeze when I sensed Broderick nearby. Although tempted to ignore my cousin and chieftain and kiss her regardless, just to have her taste on my tongue, I felt his intensifying anger the closer he grew.

“We have to go,”

I forced past my lips when her breath caught, and her eyes met mine. Beautiful green eyes, dewy with the same confusion and arousal I felt.

“’Tis Broderick…he’s close.”

I did my best to chant away my arousal, if for no other reason than being able to walk, and narrowed my eyes at our surroundings.

“I just cannae place where he is.”

“This way,”

Hazel whispered as if she couldn’t quite find her voice. She headed further into the narrow tunnel, navigating it like she had the larger one, as if she had traveled it many times before. If that were not baffling enough, where we ended up certainly was when we came to a dead end, and she traced her fingers along the same Y pattern as before, and the door wavered.

“Och,”

I exclaimed as we stepped into my lair.

“How is this possible?”

“I might ask the same,”

Broderick groused, ducking into my lair at almost the same time as us, having finally somehow located it. His narrowed eyes swept over Hazel and landed on me in barely repressed anger.

“What the bloody hell did you do this time, cousin?”

Broderick’s gaze softened on Hazel, letting her know his anger was not directed at her, before shooting back to me.

“Do you have any idea the risk you took bringing her here without MacLeod protection?”

His dragon eyes flared at me, and a vein ticked in his temple.

“How worried my mate is about her sister?”

He spoke through clenched teeth, telling me his anger had reached a new level this time.

“How worried my verra pregnant mate is with the only bairns we will ever have?”

“What?”

Hazel gasped, her eyes round.

“What do you mean?”

Her gaze narrowed on me with just as much damnation.

“What does he mean, Lucas?”

“It means he once again acted without thinking,”

Broderick ground out before his gaze fell to Hazel’s wrist, and his pupils flared.

“Yet she bears the mark, so all will be discussed once we are safely within MacLeod walls.”

Dread spiked through me when I realized the same blasted tattoo had appeared on Hazel’s wrist that once appeared on Aspen before it was proven she wasn’t meant for a Sutherland, and it faded. The same sword and wings, with a gem at the center, only Hazel’s were shades of purple, much like the twilight awash in the woodland vortex that tried to steal her away from me.

If the same tattoo appeared on a Sutherland male and a purple gem appeared over her dragon’s heart the first time she shifted, it meant she was his fated mate. She was the witchy dragon who descended from the Sutherland sorcerer via her mother, meant to fulfill the pact and marry a Sutherland.

“Come, Hazel,”

I said softly when she stared at the tattoo in confusion and fear, without a doubt wondering when it had appeared.

“I cannae take you back to your era, but I can bring you to your sister.”

Though I felt numerous questions churning in her mind, she managed a jerky nod and grew too silent for my taste. What made it worse was that I knew she was more hurt by my actions than angry. She didn’t understand why I hadn’t taken her directly to Aspen since I was aware she was in a delicate condition.

It changed her opinion of me, and I didn’t like it one bit. In fact, as Broderick saw her safely astride his horse, I tended to agree with both my cousin and Hazel. I had acted without thinking, and I was equally frustrated with myself. I only ever meant to keep her out of Sutherland hands because I was certain she belonged to me, yet now that she bore the mark, I had ended up leading her to something that might take her away.

Worse still, I did it despite knowing how much it would upset Aspen.

More and more MacLeods on horseback fell in around us as we made our way through the woodland toward the castle, all at arms and silent. Even Hazel was quiet, despite the awe she felt when MacLeod Castle came into view, sitting tall, rugged, and proud on a towering cliff overlooking an ocean as choppy as my mood. How determined and optimistic I had been when I left our castle earlier, thinking I would return with my adoring, fated mate, and all would be well, because it was one less sister at risk. Yet, somehow, I had accomplished the opposite.

Never was that clearer than when we entered the courtyard and Aspen rushed over to embrace Hazel when Broderick helped her down from his horse. After the women headed inside without a backward glance, Broderick gave me a look I knew all too well and gestured that I follow him into the War Chamber off the great hall.

Yet when the doors shut behind us, I wasn’t subjected to fuming words like I expected, but the opposite…mostly.

“Ye acted as recklessly as usual,”

he bit out, his dragon eyes flaring as he poured us cups of whisky.

“But fortunately for ye, this time, according to my parents, ‘twas precisely what ye should have done.”

I frowned and downed half my whisky.

“How so? All I did was bring Hazel closer to the enemy in more ways than one, not to mention disobeying ye and upsetting Aspen.”

I shook my head, truly meaning it.

“I cannae tell ye how sorry I am, cousin. I only meant to keep Hazel safe.”

Broderick gave me an odd look, as if trying to figure me out because I wasn’t usually one to apologize for what I considered sound thinking, but he seemed to accept it and nodded once.

“Just dinnae do it again.”

I felt the warning in his inner beast when he looked at me this time.

“I willnae see Aspen that upset again. ‘Twas a wonder we managed to keep her here because she wanted to go after ye and Hazel.”

No doubt she did.

I nodded once in return, assuring him he had my word before filling him in on everything that had happened.

“Why does Uncle Marek and Aunt Chara think I did the right thing?”

I knew it was more likely Broderick’s mother who sensed it, but still.

“Because Hazel saw her tree then ‘twas ye who went for her,”

Chara said, having heard my question as she and Marek entered through a hidden door.

As always, despite their age, they were a handsome couple. Chara wore her white hair braided, and Marek looked like an older version of Broderick with silver-streaked black hair. The only difference was he had a scar at his temple and gray eyes instead of green.

When I frowned at Chara in confusion, she handed me a scroll with no seal.

“We received this shortly after ye left to go to the twenty-first century. ‘Twas not signed, but I suspect ye’ll know who ‘tis from.”

Perplexed, I unrolled it and read, baffled by the words because they coincided with what just happened.

If Hazel saw her tree and ye went to her, Lucas, then ‘tis just as I dreamt and she has found her way back to us. I will trust in yer honor to let her dragon guide ye down the path the three of us must travel to find out which of us she is destined for. If ye do not allow her to follow her curious nature back to where we began, then ‘twill be war betwixt us again.

“How can this be?”

Scowling, I tossed the unsigned scroll into the fire and shook my head.

“What the bloody hell does Evan Sutherland know that I dinnae?”

“We would like to know that as well,”

Broderick said.

“What ye told me about him knowing her when they were bairns lends credence to his claim, though.”

His brow furrowed, and he shook his head.

“The letter was delivered by a peasant who claimed it was given to him by a hooded figure who insisted it be hand-delivered to the MacLeod laird, or the future of Scotland would be at stake.”

“Are we to assume ‘twas Evan then?”

I wondered.

“Or mayhap Hazel’s father, if we believe he didnae pass away in the twenty-first century as everyone was led to believe?”

Though just an assumption, it made sense given Hazel’s father was none other than Malcolm Sutherland. A powerful dragon who had been banished from Sutherland Castle long ago, before he could become chieftain.

Since then, he had sired four daughters in the twenty-first century with four different women, and somehow he also played a part in this wretched pact. We believed he was trying to help his daughters evade the Sutherlands by bringing them together with their MacLeod fated mate. Yet one sister was destined to fulfill the pact, so it remained unclear how he could help her.

“Setting aside that I felt Evan’s essence on that letter—”

Chara gave me a pointed look.

“’twas common knowledge, at least in this clan, that ye shared a rare friendship with the lad, considering the MacLeods and Sutherlands have never been in the habit of being friendly with one another.”

“Aye,”

Marek agreed, eyeing me curiously.

“One that ended over a lass, if I recall correctly, with a threat ‘twould be war betwixt ye if ever ye met again.”

“Aye,”

I confirmed, catching the irony because the lass had not been a twenty-first-century time traveler. I was about to say more, but it seemed Broderick had been communicating with Aspen via the mind because he spoke before I could and shared welcome news.

At least at first, I thought it was welcome news.