Page 30 of The Shadow Path
“Riding sounds fun, but you’re going to have to let me get dressed.”
“I could do that, or I could help you get dressed. Or undressed.” His eyes met hers. “I don’t have a fixed plan.”
Having sex with Lachlan would be a mistake. She’d allowed herself a sentimental night with him months ago, and it had left her feeling conflicted and confused.
Was she tempted?
Yes.
Did she know it wasn’t a good idea to sleep with her ex-boyfriend who had been married to her Shadowkin and possibly still had feelings for his dead wife?
Also yes.
She put a hand on Lachlan’s chest and felt the warm, steady beat of his heart under her palm.
He placed his hand over hers and held it there.
“Is that for her or for me?” Carys asked.
“For you.” His voice was soft. “It’s always been for you, Carys. You’re as different from Seren as Duncan is from me.”
Carys closed her eyes and drew her hand back. “Yeah.” The mention of Duncan’s name was enough to kill the mood. “You know Duncan and I?—”
“I know your heart is conflicted,” Lachlan whispered. “I understand, Carys. I truly do.”
She closed her eyes and leaned back. “You and I are from different worlds. I can’t forget that.”
“It didn’t matter before.”
“Because before I didn’t know.”
Lachlan sighed and stood up straight. “Ah, mo chridhe. If I loved you less, it would be easier to step aside.”
Okay, when he said things like that, Carys wanted to pull her former lover into bed and forget all the wise and mature boundaries she’d set for herself. “Riding. Riding is good. Let’s go do that. Did I tell you about my horse?”
Lachlan took a step back, a smile flirting around his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. “I’ll find the kitchen and pack a breakfast for us. You need to eat. Get dressed and meet me at the stables. You can introduce me to your horse there.”
“Perfect.” She started to slide out of bed, but Lachlan caught her around the knees and she gasped.
“Don’t forget stockings.” He lifted her leg and kissed her bare ankle. “It may be summer here, but remember to dress warm.”
When Carys arrivedat the stables, she was surprised and not surprised to see Dru in some kind of intense conversation with Lachlan. The tall fae was speaking in low tones to the Alban prince, and he was dressed in heavy woolen clothes that were covered with straw.
Was Dru sleeping in the stables? Carys didn’t know what to make of the odd man, and she hadn’t spent enough time with other fae to know what was and wasn’t normal.
As she’d learned in her previous foray into the Shadowlands, what the books she’d studied said was true and what wasactuallytrue were two different things.
Carys hung back, watching from a distance, but the two men didn’t notice her. The fog had cleared, and in the pearlescent morning light, Lachlan looked like a young, golden god. His reddish-brown hair fell to his collar in waves, his shoulders were thrown back, and the clothes he wore made him look every inch the prince that he was.
Dru, on the other hand, looked like the mythical Green Man wandering out of the forest, his hair wild and threaded with feathers and bright blue beads that matched the markings on his face.
But as he spoke with Lachlan, his chin was tipped up and the way he looked down his nose didn’t match the grubby clothes he wore. Dressed in rough clothing or not, there was something distinctly regal about Dru, and Carys was starting to wonder why the fae had crossed back into the Shadowlands.
“Is it Diarmuid himself before me? The wandering Oberon returned at last? What, has the stubborn Mab finally returned your affections, dear boy?”
Was Diarmuid Dru’s true name?
Carys found herself examining what she remembered from the Crow Mother’s cryptic words in the forest the night before. Oberon was easy to decipher; he was the king of the fairies in folk stories and Mab was his queen, but they had broken apart. In some stories, Oberon had even imprisoned Mab.
