Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends #1)(52)

Velloc’s warm breath fanned across the shell of my ear as he kissed it softly. “I don’t always use magick to hunt,” he whispered. “A swift chase prevents a connection. Then I am very much a skillful hunter. To lie in wait, calm the creature, become the animal before a kill, is a spiritual gift. The ritual pays respect for the sacrifice—its life . . . for mine.”

Wow. The soft-spoken, poetic words from a warrior who killed savagely if warranted, melted my heart. To have him care about a life he took, and for him to show such reverence with me, spoke volumes about the depths of the man who’d wrapped himself around me. I stretched my arms out, winding them around his forearms, resting my cheek on his bicep.

*

The long day of training, hunting, bathing, and eating had exhausted my body. Regardless, I had a nightcap agenda in mind as I tumbled into our bed. I summoned Velloc with a crooked finger. He crawled onto our pallet and leaned over me, bracing his weight on his elbows.

I smirked. “What if we connected our vibrations while we . . .” I grasped his already-hard cock as the finish to my statement.

His eyes glistened with mischief. “We have from the very beginning.”

I gasped, punching his chest. “You used magick on me?” I frowned, realizing he likely had.

He cocked his head. “Would it matter to you if I had?”

Would it?

Attraction and emotions were very different, even if their complexities intertwined. Would it make any difference whatsoever if he’d used his seductive magick to capture my heart?

Love either existed or it didn’t. How we ended up there was only an interesting story developed along the way. The fact we were there—in love with each other—remained the only solid truth holding any amount of importance.

“No.” My reply came after my careful consideration.

He laughed a rich, booming sound. “Good. I did use magick. And I would do it again.”

I wrapped my legs around him and pulled my hips up, sliding my wet, ready body along his hardened shaft. “Show me, Velloc. Unite with me in every way. Teach me your magick.”

With my heart and soul opened wide, our bodies expressed a physical connection . . . while our life force fused into one.





CHAPTER Seventeen





“Velloc?”

I stood on the edge of the jagged cliff with my arms wrapped around my midsection, gazing out at the dimming-gray horizon. Waves crashed onto the rocks below. He answered with an embrace from behind and a gentle kiss on my temple. Thoughts had plagued me over the last week, and I needed to be able to share everything with him. Worried what his reaction would be, I spat it out, needing to unearth it from the pit of my stomach.

“I need to go back . . . to the box.” I held my breath when he froze. As he regained control, his rigidity eased. With his sharp mind and keen intuitiveness, no further words were required for him to understand my request or its risks.

“No.” He released his hold, and I turned around to see he’d stepped back from me. A deep scowl furrowed his face, and his crossed arms and wide stance boldly stated no negotiations would be entertained.

“Velloc, I had a life before this one. I . . . had a husband.”

My quiet voice remained flat. I hadn’t given up hope of reuniting with Iain, but in my recent past of wild-and-crazy time jumping, I had no idea if the box would even transport me back there. I’d become a drafted player in a game without rules. However, like geese driven to fly south for their winter, an overwhelming pull to return to the very thing that governed my whereabouts had grown too powerful to be ignored.

He slowly shook his head back and forth. I nodded, dropping my gaze to the ground. Respect for the man and all he’d provided made me honor his authority. I turned back to the ocean, focusing on the waves in the distance. Their rhythm helped pacify my roiling mind.

His voice rose above the crashing surf. “Why? Tell me why.” He kept his distance, his firm tone demanding an explanation.

Our topics of conversation had never touched on either of our pasts. I hadn’t questioned his lack of curiosity, because a large part of me didn’t want to go there either. The realist in me had refused to pine about something I couldn’t have until a true avenue opened. We’d developed a strong foundation of trust over the past weeks, though, and it gave me the confidence to broach the subject.

A growing urgency that I felt humming deep inside had become a secondary instigator, telling me I either opened the discussion door, or the unknown force behind my adventure would shove me right through it . . . unopened. I’d begun to feel a lot like Alice in her Wonderland.

“I came here through that box.” I turned around, searching his face for understanding. “The same box that brought me to you sent me to my first husband. His time exists more than a thousand years from now. My time—where I come from—is two thousand years from now . . .”

My voice trailed off. Velloc squinted, appearing to digest what I’d said . . . or assessing my mental capacity.

My explanation would’ve blown lesser men away. Anyone but Velloc would’ve thought I’d gone insane. The man knew my heart, though. He’d often praised me for the sound head on my shoulders. I’d also materialized out of thin air right before his eyes in a thirteenth-century gown and twenty-first-century boots—irrefutable evidence that stood in my corner.