Viper raised his brow and cocked his head to one side.
“I told you. It’s Ward.”
The smallest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Viper’s mouth. Not his usual wry twist or bark of sardonic humor—this was quieter, almost thoughtful. “Alright. Ward.”
Damn, who knew his saying my name like that could give me the shivers?
Before Ward could figure out what the hell that reaction meant—or why it made his heart trip like it did—one of the Fianna stepped forward, barking something in Old Irish that Ward only half-understood. He motioned with a massive hand. “The lake waits. You’ll rest now. The Crannógs are ready.”
They followed him through the torchlit ringfort of Dun Fianna, past the shadowed gates, and to a path that led them through thick woodland. The trees arched overhead in a canopy of ancient oaks and silver-leafed ash. The ground grew damp beneath their boots as they neared the edge of the lake.
Ward stopped breathing for a heartbeat as the view opened up. The lake mirrored the moon like a polished obsidian plate. It was still and quiet, but for the slow ripples of fish breaking the surface. Rising from the center was a village like something torn from the pages of a time-long-forgotten story.
Crannógs.
Holy shit, they really are crannógs.
Circular wooden homes sat atop stilted platforms above the water, connected by arched rope bridges and narrow walkways that gleamed with softly glowing stones pressed into the wood. Fires crackled in hanging braziers at the edge of each structure, casting flickers of gold across the water. Tied currach boats,with their hides stretched over wooden frames, floated next to the massive wooden posts that held up the platform, and the air smelled of peat smoke, salt, and something faintly sweet that he wouldn’t have been able to name if one of the guys held one of those vicious looking guns they carried to his head.
He blinked in stunned disbelief that he was actually seeing real-life crannógs outside of a historical park. “They’re… beautiful.”
“They’re home,” the warrior beside them said with a proud smile. “The lake remembers the old ways, and so do we.”
Is this not the only life they’ve known?
Umm…
He made a mental note to ask Trace about it when the Fianna weren’t around. To insult their guests wasn’t something he wanted to do.
Juice and Trace were led across one bridge to a smaller house tucked close to the shore. By the way they were wrapped around each other, he was going to guess that they wouldn’t come up for air anytime soon, because it already felt like they didn’t need doors to shut the world out. They already existed in their own universe.
What would it be like to have someone look at me like those two do each other?
Ward shut that thought down hard. Mate mark or not, he shouldn’t be thinking those thoughts. He should be focused on how to get them back to their own time, place, or world. Still, as he watched as Kaze, Reaper, and Zero were pointed toward another, larger circular structure with space for weapons, armor, and brothers-in-arms, a tiny part of him wanted to wallow in thefantasy, soak himself soul deep in connection all the books and movies said came with being the mate of a supernatural being.
But Viper is as human as I am.
Mates and Grá Croí are for this place, not for real life.
He expected them to be pointed to the crannóg next to the others and frowned in confusion when the warrior guiding them motioned them onward and led them deeper into the center of the lake. “As new Grá Croí’s, you two need more privacy than the others.” He paused at the lone crannóg at the end of the path. “Here we are.”
Well shit.
How am I supposed to wait this thing out if I have to spend every night beside him?
Viper raised a brow as if the idea of them bunking together was nothing more than logistics. But Ward’s mouth had gone dry. Of course, they expected them to stay together. Of course, the universe—or fate, or whatever the hell ruled Tír na nÓg—Fionn—had paired him with the man who’d somehow managed to make him feel both safe and like he was teetering on the edge of something that might send his sanity up in flames. All that was needed was a spark.
I’m doomed.
They say he’s my mate.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
How do I deal with that?
They stepped into the last house that looked to be smaller than the others. The door swung inward, revealing a single low-burning hearth and a massive bed piled high with furs sprawled across a woven mat. Viper placed his weapon near the bed and dropped his pack next to it. “I don’t snore. Much.”
Ward gave a quiet laugh. Tiredness slammed into him as if it had been waiting for such a moment to ambush him. “I won’t tell if you don’t. Once I’m asleep, I won’t hear a thing.”
