As if a tether only tightened between us rather than loosened.
Something which became far clearer later that evening.
Chapter Five
–Ellie–
EVERY BITE OF the stew I manifested after we had settled in a forest cave, only became more difficult to swallow until I gave up altogether and set my bowl aside. However hard I might try to distance myself, I only became more and more aware of Tavish.
More aware of how much I still loved him.
And nothing felt worse because no matter what, I had to leave him yet again in this life for the sake of Scotland and my family. For the sake of all we held dear.
As was my way, I mostly remained quiet and listened to Adlin and Grant chat about the goings on in all three clans they cared most about, including the MacLomains, Hamiltons, and MacLeods, and couldn’t help but notice Tavish remained mostly silent too.
Eventually, Grant bid us goodnight and drifted off into the Hereafter, followed by Adlin, who declared there were several smaller caves attached to this one, so he was off to get some sleep, leaving me and Tavish alone.
“Nay,” Tavish said softly when I went to stand because it was best we not be alone in case he asked questions I couldn’t answer, and I was right to think it based on the way his gazenarrowed on me. “If ye dinnae mind, I would like to share a wee dram with you.”
While every bone in my body told me not to, because talking could only lead to more trouble, my inner beast seemed to work against me, and I found myself sinking back into my chair despite my best efforts not to. “Of course.”
I chanted more whisky into just his cup, but it seemed he was no fool, because he gave me a look and then chanted, and seconds later, my cup was full again. Then he led with a question that alarmed me because it meant his inner beast was connecting with mine far too quickly.
“Who are you?” His narrowed eyes remained fixed on my face. “Because I get the sense we’ve met before, but I cannae place when or where.”
“As you know, I’m Ellie,” I answered, doing my best to keep my expression neutral rather than wear my emotions on my face, so I offered a small smile and faked a look of confusion. Then I flat-out lied and hated every minute of it. “This is my first time traveling back to medieval Scotland.”
“Somehow I dinnae believe that.” He sipped his whisky and kept eyeing me as if trying to place how we knew each other. “And from what I’ve heard about your sisters coming together with my brother and cousins, ‘tis clear you may have traveled back without recalling it just yet.” He kept considering me. “But somehow that doesnae seem quite right either.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I replied, because I truly didn’t. All I knew was I couldn’t tell him the truth. “Maybe I seem familiar because I’m related to your brethren's fated mates? I’ve heard things like that can happen when dragons bond.”
“It can,” he conceded. “Yet it doesnae feel quite like that either.”
Likely realizing he wasn’t going to get anything out of me right now, he redirected the conversation, or perhaps even his tactics, to my way of thinking.
“Sense of familiarity aside, I must say I’m curious about your determination to go straight to the Sutherlands.” As if he were trying to figure out how genuine I was, his steady gaze rarely left my face. “’Tis verra brave.” He cocked his head. “Truth told, it makes me curious about your life before coming here. I assume you were close to your sisters? And clearly had a love for Scotland and her people?”
Both logical assumptions, considering my actions.
“Yes to both,” I answered easily enough because it was the truth. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep my sisters safe, and I’ve always been drawn to Scotland. In fact, I’ve visited several times in my era, of course.”
“Of course,” he murmured, clearly probing, however subtly. “Yet through my growing connection with your kin, I get the sense you have never concerned yourself with making a great deal of currency in your profession. That you prefer a simpler life, free of too much excess, running some sort of shop.” His eyebrow swept up. “I might not know a great deal about your century, but is it not rather expensive to travel from the Americas to Scotland?”
“Actually,” I said, clarifying things and treading carefully because he was as sharp as ever, “I ran a successful apothecary in Salem, Massachusetts. You might be surprised how much people are willing to pay for certain elixirs and potions, if you will.” I tightened my expression and did my best to keep him at arm’s length. “And while it’s none of your business how I lived my life, it's true I haven’t lived one of excess but mostly saved my money in case my sisters needed help with one thing or another. As to Scotland, I was a savvy flyer and had friends I could stay with, so my expenditures were minimal.”
“Did you have trouble flying?” he wondered, coming in from another angle yet again.
I frowned. “Trouble?”
“I heard you have a fear of heights,” he commented, taking another sip of whisky and watching me closely. “So I wondered if you had trouble flying in planes?”
“Generally speaking, a fear of heights doesn’t work that way.”
“Even so, ‘tis unfortunate for a dragon.” He perked a brow at me again. “Should I assume, then, that you didnae fly when you shifted?”
“I didn’t,” I confirmed, leaving it at that because I didn’t want to delve into why I had a fear of heights to begin with.
“’Tis an odd thing, that.” His eyes narrowed again. “I dinnae think I’ve ever met a dragon who didnae at least try to fly when they shifted. Nor do I suspect your inner beast would share such human fears.”
