“I don’t mind.” I pulled the last ribbon free. “I’m happy to do it, actually.”
She faced me. The mist in the air thickened. I waited. I’d waited a long time for her. It was nothing to wait a bit longer, especially now that I had her.
She tipped her head down and worked at the ties of her skirt. I faced away again, my head filling with images of what she looked like behind me. Fabric falling away. Long, smooth limbs appearing.
Water splashed.
More fantasies spun through my mind, Portia’s firm breasts bobbing on the spring’s surface, her pink nipples puckered against the cold. She was bare between her thighs like all our kind, her pussy softly rounded and begging for a man’s kiss.
Aye, I was going to take my time with it. When she finally stopped pretending she had any chance of denying my and Tavish’s claim, I was going to map every inch of Portia Balfour’s cunt with my tongue.
The pain in my head spiked.
I gasped, pressing my palm to my temple. The world tilted. I pushed my spectacles up with shaking fingers and rubbed at my cursed eye.
The ache exploded into agony. White light flashed behind my eyelids. Nausea rolled through me, and I swayed on my feet.
“Albie?”
Portia appeared in front of me, water dripping from her hair. Her chemise clung to her body, the transparent linen molded to her breasts and stomach. Even half-blind with pain, I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
“What happened?” She reached for my face, concern etched on her face.
My spectacles hung crooked on my nose. I pulled them off before she could straighten them.
Her eyes widened.
I’d never shown anyone but Tavish. Never let anyone see the milky scar tissue and the clouded iris leeched of color.
“Your eye,” she breathed.
“It was a witch,” I said, the words coming easier than I expected. Then again, Portia was my mate. We’d have no secrets between us. “I’d heard of a spellcaster with knowledge of blood-based curses, and I was eager to speak with him. Tavish was busy with one of our properties and couldn’t accompany me right away, so I traveled to Edinburgh without him.” I touched the corner of my ruined eye. “The witch struck me down in an alley and left me for dead.”
Portia scowled as she brushed her fingertips under my eye. “I would have killed him if I’d been there.”
My dragon perked up, pleased at this bloodthirsty side of our mate, especially since she was ready to do violence in my defense. My dick showed its appreciation, too, blood pumping to my shaft. Not for the first time, I was grateful for my kilt’s yards of concealing fabric.
Portia looked at the spectacles in my hand. “Is this why you wear them?”
“Aye.” I showed her the frames. “They’re spelled to make my eye appear normal, but they do nothing for my sight. I used to see shadows and occasional flashes of color. Unfortunately, I don’t see anything now.”
Her expression fell. “The Curse caused this. Maybe not directly, but you wouldn’t have been searching for a cure otherwise.”
“That’s true. It’s taken a great deal from our people.”
“It nearly killed my mother. After Mullo died, my fathers believed we were saved. But I’m still the only female besides my mother, and she nearly died giving birth to me. It took a demon elixir to save us both.”
“A demon elixir?”
My curiosity must have shown on my face, because she smiled. “It’s called the Elixir of Vozgadach. It grants a single wish with?—”
“No limitations,” I said. “I’ve read of it.”
Her smile grew. “Of course you have.”
“The Elixir of Vozgadach is granted to the winner of the Firstborn Games. The king and Niall competed?”
She shook her head. “They wouldn’t leave Mum’s side. A dragon named Struan MacLure won it with help from his mates. They gifted it to my mother.”
