Page 36 of A Celtic Memory
“I’m not sure what happened,” she said hoarsely, grappling not only with what it felt like being in someone else’s body but killing somebody in cold blood. “One second I was here, the next I was inside a warrior,yourwarrior, battling.” She nodded thanks when he urged her to drink some wine before continuing. To calm her nerves. To cope with the heartache rising in her. “They all died but me,him...I think.”
“Ta,” Cian confirmed.
She saw the same sadness she had sensed off him before, plus fresh anger. A need for revenge.
“He survived long enough to get back to us and warn of danger but little else,” he said.
“Yet there was more.”
She was about to go on when she realized her clothing had changed.
“Oh,no,” she groaned, caught somewhere between marveling over the dress from her dream being real and terrified by what it might mean. “What happened? How did...” She shook her head and fingered the silky deep forest green material. “I don’t understand.”
“I would say taking the blade again brought you into your own.” Cian ran his fingers along one of the dress’s delicate straps. “I told you things would happen fast.” He shook his head. “This dress is beyond lovely, lassie. A gown fit for an Unnamed One. Foryou.”
“Isn’t it too modern, though?” She frowned. “Won’t it unsettle your people?”
“Nay, I think that will be the last thing it does.”
He trailed his finger close enough to her cleavage to make her aware of how intimate things had become. The heat and strength of his body beneath hers.
“This dress represents how your inner druidess wishes to appear to her people on a night when she will meet many,” he continued. “To show them she is not of this time but still of it in a way they will understand. I imagine it,you, will lend them comfort.”
“How?” she wondered. “What could I possibly say or do?”
“What the gods just showed you in a vision, I suspect.” He touched her temple, closed his eyes, and breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief when he saw what she had. “I sensed much off my warrior, but not what he’d been told during the heat of battle.” Though still sad, his eyes opened to hers again with a little less anger. “The enemy warrior in your vision was released from Raghnall’s magic long enough to get a message through.”
“Things aren’t what they seem.” She repeated what the man had said, shivering yet again at the feel of being inside another person. Cutting down men. “Don’t trust what we see.”
Cian wrapped his cloak around her when she trembled, and chills swept through her.
“What’s happening to me?” Her throat tightened. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why do I suddenly feel....”
She couldn’t get the words out because the feeling was indescribable. Horrific.
“’Tis just shock from having seen so much death.” Cian held her closer still. “And having killed men that your host knew. Cared about.” He rested her cheek against his warm chest. “’Twill pass soon enough as your magic helps your soul adjust.”
“Host?” she croaked, melting against him.
“Ta, whilst the man you possessed still had his own wits about him, you were every bit as much a part of him as you were yourself.” He cupped the back of her head and soothing warmth spread through her. “And because of that, you were able to put my mind and heart at ease in ways I could not be more grateful for.”
“Because of Declán.” The pressure on her chest eased a little when she looked at him. “What that warrior said only backs up your suspicion he might not be in league with the enemy after all, doesn’t it?” She blinked back more tears. “And your poor warrior never got the chance to tell you before he died. Something I know he was determined to do.”
“Nay, he did not get the chance.” He wiped away her tears, his gaze so tender she again became acutely aware of how intimate the moment. “But you did, and ‘twill make all the difference in how we move forward.”
“Because it gives you renewed hope that Declán didn’t betray you,” she murmured.
“Without doubt.”
He trailed the pad of his thumb along her jaw and chased away the last of her chills.
Instead, a telling warmth filled her.
“You gave me a gift this eve, Madison.” He trailed his finger down her neck. His voice sounded strained. “One that gives me a much-needed sense of hope that all is not lost.”
“All isnotlost.” She was never more certain. “Declán is not lost.”
She meant it too. Had felt it in Declán’s warrior prior to dark magic ushering him into death before he could say more.
