“A lie to take advantage of someone.”
His protectiveness flared hotter. “Someone did that to you?”
She bowed her head and gave a soft laugh that held no joy. “People do it to each other a lot where I come from.”
“Then why would ye ever wish to go back?”
Lifting her head, she locked eyes with him. “Because it’s all I know, and even I can only handle a certain amount of change. My pivot and adapt tank is currently running on empty.”
His heart sank. That was not what he’d wished to hear. “I see.”
She reached across the table and hesitantly touched his hand. “I always want to be honest with you.”
“I am glad.” But only when she said things that made his heart sing. He nodded at her bannock puddled with melted butter. “Eat, lass. They’re best whilst they’re steaming.”
She drizzled honey over it, then dug into it with her spoon. “Will I ever be able to shift?”
“That, I dinna ken. It depends on yerself and yer wolf. According to my wolf, yer Intuition has not attempted to do so in the past out of concern for ye.”
“Is she the one who does it, or am I?”
“Ye will always be the one in control. She canna take form without yer willing it to be so. However, for the first shifting, she would naturally lead the way since she is accustomed to the magic.” A leeriness ran through him at the prospect of Calia attempting to shift. She had just mentioned only being able to stomach a certain amount of change, and the first shifting would be unlike anything she had ever experienced. “Has she mentioned it to ye?”
“No, but there’s always been something kind of wistful in her voice, and I wondered if that was what she was missing.” With a sigh, Calia refilled her tea. “Does coffee exist in seventeenth-century Scotland?”
“Aye, I shall have a word with Mynlis. She can buy some from the smugglers.” He offered Otto a sausage. “Good lad. Ye took it much easier that time.”
“And that’s another thing…” She nodded at the platter of sausages and slices of roast venison. “How do you know the animals you hunt for food aren’t shifters?”
“A shifter’s spirit animal always recognizes the spirit animal of another.”
Otto whined and pawed at Mathison’s leg.
Mathison scooped up several sausages and slices of meat, placed them on a plate, and set them on the floor in front of the dog. The wee beastie had spent the better part of the night roaming around the tower. No wonder he was so hungry. When Mathison returned his focus to Calia, he could tell she was unconvinced. “It was my wolf that told me of the presence of yer wolf. Even Mairwen, the most powerful of all the Divine Weavers and a daughter of the goddesses Bride and Cerridwen, had no idea ye were blessed with a spirit animal. The Weavers thought ye a mere mortal.”
“I still consider myself a mere mortal.” She shifted in her chair and stared out the window, obviously worrying again—a thing she seemed to do quite a lot. In her defense, though, she’d just survived a major upheaval, so she’d earned the right to be so pensive.
“There is nothing mere about ye, mo chridhe.”
She didn’t answer, just continued staring out the window.
“Do ye wish to try to shift?” ’Twas his hope that if he kept her distracted, she’d not revisit her desire to return to Seven Cairns and confront Mairwen about all that had come to pass. Even though their bond was complete, and they’d shared a wondrous night of sealing it, there was a restlessness about Calia. She was still not pleased about finding herself in the Ninth Realm.
And to save her clothing during shifting, she’d need to be naked. He almost groaned at the thought of feasting his eyes on her once again. Even though they’d spent the better part of the night loving, he would never get enough of her.
She shifted her gaze from the window to him. The way her dark brows drew together warned he might not like what she was about to say. “I still want to go to Seven Cairns first. Intuition is quiet for the moment, and I’d just as soon speak with Mairwen before attempting to connect with a legacy I had no idea I possessed.”
Before he could stop himself, he sighed. “Why do ye feel ye must do this?”
“Closure…and other stuff.”
Other stuff? “I dinna ken what ye mean.” They were fated mates, bound for this lifetime. What else mattered—other than earning her love?
“You said Mairwen and her people searched for me for three hundred years. Or at least, as soon as you were exiled by the curse. I’m a thirty-nine year old divorcee and grieving mother. What took them so long to find me? A lot of pain could have been avoided—for both of us.”
“From what I know of destiny, fate, and the interweaving of all things, I would say that yer daughter needed to be born. In her short lifetime, she touched many souls. Who knows what changes she set into motion? Changes for the better.”
Calia stiffened as though offended, sitting ramrod straight in her chair and eyeing him as if weighing the truth of his words. After a tense moment, she visibly relaxed. “Everyone at the hospital loved her.” She cleared her throat, then took a quick sip of tea while blinking hard and fast, battling against tears. “Gillian never complained. Even on her worst days. She never complained about anything, and I know she was in so much pain.” Fiddling with the cloth beside her plate, she gave an apologetic shrug. “I need to go to Seven Cairns. I’m not sure why; I just know I need to. Maybe it’s my old training about leaving no stone unturned.” She cleared her throat. “And there are items there that I’m not willing to leave behind. I have to recover them.”
