Page 73 of Kenna's Dragon

“She died. Over two centuries ago.”

A wave of devastating understanding breaks over me. So that’s what Nora meant when she talked about him dealing with baggage and loss when it came to having a mate.

Other parts of everything that’s happened between Ewan and I begin to make sense, too. How even though he’s been drawn to me from the beginning, it’s not because he ever thought I was his mate.

Of course I’m not.

He’s already found his mate.

And lost her.

My stomach turns over and my chest tightens painfully at the thought of how much something like that must have destroyed him. How even now, hundreds of years later, he’s still dealing with the grief of losing her.

Ewan takes a deep, shaky breath before he speaks again. “She joined Elias and I on a journey from France to England, just a short trip, and I fully intended on leaving the ship once we made it back. She and I were going to start a life away from the sea.

“Before we could, though, our ship was attacked. I shifted to fight off the two ships that attacked us, and so did Elias, and though we saved our ship and most of our crew, we couldn’t save her.”

He falls silent for a few moments, and when I steal a glance over my shoulder at him, he’s staring into the fire. The shifting light of the flames plays over his face, highlighting the tension and sorrow etched in his features, and the weight in my chest grows even heavier.

“I’ve carried that guilt and grief with me ever since.”

I grasp his hand where it’s resting against my thigh, squeezing it tight in a gesture of comfort I honestly don’t know is worth anything at all. Ewan startles a little at the touch, but tightens his grip on my hand a moment later, lifting our joined hands to kiss mine briefly before resting them back where they were.

“Tell me about her?” I ask softly, not knowing if it’s the right thing to do. “What was she like?

Ewan looks down at me with inscrutable gold in his gaze. I almost think he’ll say no, close down, shut me out completely. But whatever he sees on my face has all that icy reserve fading a moment later. His expression softens, eyes going distant in memory.

“She was… a force to be reckoned with.”

Ewan goes on to tell me about a woman with black hair and a teasing smile and an adventurer’s spirit who he fell for hard and fast. One who was bold and fearless enough to hop aboard a ship crewed by monsters and sail off into a new life with the dragon she thought was her mate.

She sounds incredible.

Fierce, brave, beautiful. The kind of woman who might have songs or poems written about her. As he speaks, my artist’s brain runs away from me, mentally sketching her at the prow of a ship framed by sea spray and the wild waves of the open ocean.

It’s no wonder he loved her so deeply. A love deep enough even centuries haven’t dimmed it.

“So the two of you were… bonded?” I ask him when he falls silent.

Ewan shakes his head slowly. “We weren’t. She died before we could be.”

“I’m sorry.” I’m not sure there’s anything else I can or should say right now. “For all of it. I can’t imagine going through something like that.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “If truth be told, time does strange things to grief and memory.”

He goes quiet again, but the look on his face is thoughtful, considering, and I simply take the silence to study him. The firm cut of his chin and jaw, the gold of his eyes—softer than I’ve ever seen it—the faint lines of age and exhaustion framing it all.

“It’s different now,” he says finally. “I’m not even sure when it started to change, but it hurts less than it once did. Aches instead of stabs, holds a smaller, quieter place in my mind instead of the all-consuming nature it once had.”

I nod, though truthfully it’s hard for me to fully comprehend what he means.

That kind of love, that depth of loss, it’s not something I’ve ever experienced.

Still, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to be close to him, to offer him whatever kind of comfort I can, even if I don’t completely understand how he’s feeling. I lean back into him and pull the blanket higher over us to block out the deepening evening chill.

We stay that way for a long time, not saying much of anything else, while the fire burns low and the stars shine brightly above.

And later, when we go inside, when we get ready for bed and head into the guest bedroom, I lay down while Ewan stands at the window, staring out into the darkness.

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