“Morrigan will not return.At least not here.”A knowing filled Grant.The dark one had as much as given her word that she would threaten them no more.He and Jessa were safe, but God help Mairwen, the Veil’s protectors, and the other fated mates.“Tell them to stand down.”
“They surround the keep to join auras and bathe the place with healing.”Lachie sagged against the wall and drew in several deep, ragged breaths.“Why the devil did ye put yer chambers on the third floor?”
“Because it suited me.”Although Grant didn’t disagree.He presently wished he had made his rooms on the ground floor.“And what do ye meanbathe the place with healing?”
“I canna tell ye,” Lachie said, as he resumed climbing.“Ye’ve not taken the oath, ye ken?”
“Now is a hell of a time for ye to get so high and mighty about Defender rules.My not taking yer damned oath didna give ye pause whenever ye needed my help.”
With a mighty growl, Lachie dragged him up the last few steps, swung him into the third floor hallway, and dropped his arse to the floor.Doubled over, his hands propped on his knees, he bared his teeth and looked ready to spit.“Once ye’ve healed, and yer fine wife is doing well, we will continue this discussion.It would not be fair for me to thrash yer arse in yer current condition.”
Henry joined them, impatiently waving for them to follow.“Mairwen said to make haste.”
Fear jolted through Grant, forcing him to his feet.“Jessa!”His vision failed, trapping him in frustrating darkness.He hit the wall but kept moving in the direction he knew he needed to go.“Get me to her!My sight has left me.”
Strong hands caught hold of his arms and dragged him along.A solid thud and then a loud bang told him that either Lachie or Henry had kicked open the bedchamber door so hard it had bounced off the wall.
“She needs your heat,” Mairwen said from somewhere to the left.“The mate bond will help her heal—and help you too.”
Grant pulled the mighty, humming sword out of his belt and held it out.“Guard this, Lachie,” he said.As soon as his kinsman took the sword, Grant felt around for the chair that was usually on the side of the bed closest to the door.Once he found it, he sat, stripped off his boots, then teetered back to his feet and stripped off the rest of his clothes.
“Yer back,” Mairwen said from behind him.“Yer throat.Morrigan’s work?”
“Aye.”Grant didn’t care that Mairwen or anyone else would see his nakedness.The need to get to Jessa consumed him.Nothing else mattered.He bumped into the bed, fumbled his way under the coverings, and pulled himself around his lady love.“Lore a’mighty, she is as cold as the bottom of the loch.”
“Too much time in the Morrigan’s domain poisoned the both of ye,” Mairwen said.“Mortals canna tolerate her overlong or the darkness she breeds.Give me yer hand.”
With Jessa wrapped in his arms, Grant was reluctant to turn loose of her long enough to do what the old witch said, especially when he couldn’t see anything other than swirling darkness.“Will it help her?”
“It will help ye both.Put yer hand out of the covers now.Time is of the essence.”
Gritting his teeth, he slid his left hand out from under the covers and waited.A strong yet feminine touch grasped his wrist.
“Keeva, hand me the crystal athame, then hold her right hand steady alongside his left,” Mairwen instructed.“Emily, be ready with the bindings, aye?Our hands must be joined for no less than three full breaths.”
“How many are in here with ye?”he asked.
“As many as needed,” Mairwen said.“Now quiet yerself.If this doesna work, I canna save either of ye.”
Something cold and hard dragged across his palm so quickly that it took a moment for him to realize his flesh had been sliced.Then a hand gripped his, clasping tight and pressing their palms together.
“The binding, Emily.Now.”
It was then he realized it was Mairwen’s surprisingly strong grasp holding his.A cloth wrapped around their hands and wrists, lashing them tighter together.
“Unum Sumus,” Mairwen intoned, the depth of her voice mysterious and powerful.
“We are one,” said Emily.Keeva echoed the same.
“We are one,” Henry repeated in his booming voice.
“We are one,” Lachie said even louder, not about to be outdone.
A blinding blast of the purest white light exploded in Grant’s mind—or maybe it was in his sight.He couldn’t tell because its power consumed him.There was no pain.Merely a sense of completeness.Of belonging.It reminded him of the sense of rightness he had felt when he and Jessa had acknowledged their bond and melded as one.
Then a wave of the quietest silence, the serenest peace, washed across him and closed his mind.
* * *
