Maybe he'd missed something. Maybe she grew wings under duress and had forgotten to mention it. He had to be glad she had them, since they were probably the only thing that had kept her out of the claws of Lucien Andrakkar. But obviously the Dyadd Morgaine had a different idea of "unusual" than he did.
Small wonder, considering the place they lived.
Then he began to see what else surrounded him, and Gabriel momentarily forgot everything else as his senses tried to absorb their first encounter with the Carith Noor.
It was a forest. That much he could see. But that was as far as the familiar extended, because it was like no other forest he had ever seen, or even imagined. He stood amid a scatter of brightly colored tents in a small dealing, their bold hues and high peaks more sophisticated than circus-like. Pennants, each with a single and unfamiliar symbol, fluttered in a warm breeze. He couldn't quite tell how many tents there were or how large the encampment actually was, but it was a question that vanished almost immediately as he caught sight of the wonder that was the trees.
Not far from where he stood, just past a large wooden cart and a small gathering of zebra-like animals that grazed peacefully on the emerald green grass, silvery trunks at least ten times the circumference of a man erupted from the ground and shot into a sky that shimmered faintly in hues of deepest purple and royal blue. Somewhere out of sight, lost to his vision above the canopy of trees, the moon continued to cast its red glow. And the bit of sky directly above him was framed all around by leaves of palest green. There were some scattered on the ground around him as big as his foot, and the ones still on the trees rustled comfortingly, rippling in waves of exquisite color off into the distant shadows of the forest, which looked, from where he stood, to stretch on forever.
It was the sudden musical cry of some exotic bird that finally shocked Gabriel into drawing a breath. He had never seen a place of such exquisite beauty. There was a wildness here that seemed to be in the very air, already seeping into his blood, running through his veins until he didn't think he would ever be able to separate from it.
He had never been to this place, and yet something in him called it home.
Forcing himself into movement, Gabriel finally collected his wits enough to step from the ring of white stones in which he stood. He grabbed the clothes offered him by one of a veritable sea of breathtakingly beautiful women, grousing inwardly a little at the fact that Rowan didn't seem to have the clothes-ripping-during-a-Change issue that his own kind did. Then, forgotten, he slunk a short distance away so that he wouldn't be crushed in the stampede. He pulled the garments on quickly, a simple brown tunic over fitted leggings. Then he watched Bastian, with a bigger smile than he thought Rowan's serious brother was capable of producing, pick up his sister and give her a bear hug so tight that she had to punch him, laughing, to get him to let go.
It was amazing, he thought. Rather than dissolving into tears at her ordeal, Rowan's eyes were alight, glowing like two jewels in the near-darkness. Her entire being seemed lit from within, exuding a vitality that surprised him after all that had happened. Wings, he told himself, trying the idea on for size. He found that he was surprised, but not totally shocked. She's got wings. Well, he guessed, why not? He'd come to terms with the fact that she was a blood-drinking sorceress pretty early on. The addition of wings was relatively minor. Not so different from him sprouting fur. Mostly.
And God, he thought as he watched her lift her arms to the sky and execute a joyful dancer's turn, but she was beautiful.
Whatever else came, he was glad he'd been able to give her this.
"I don't know how to thank you," Bastian said, appearing as suddenly as he usually did to stand beside Gabriel and watch the continuing display. His voice was thick with emotion. "There's nothing I could give that would come close to being enough. The Dyadd is whole again."
"Your blessing for Rowan and me is enough," Gabriel replied, accepting Bastian's brotherly cuff on the shoulder.
"You have that, and gladly," Bastian said. "Though you may change your mind after a few days surrounded by all of my sisters." He shook his head ruefully. "It can get interesting. And I warn you, I won't always be here to protect you from their wrath."
Gabriel raised his eyebrows at Bastian's smirk. The reality of living with a tribe of women hadn't really occurred to him, but he wasn't afraid. Yet. "You planning on going somewhere?"
Bastian just shook his head. "Later. Right now we need to concentrate on strategy, because we have maybe an hour, not much more, before the dragons arrive. They'll be on their way as we speak, no doubt."
"You mean you haven't got a bloody plan?" Gabriel growled, dumbfounded. He and Rowan had just risked their necks getting out of the mountains, making it by the skin of their teeth. He'd assumed they weren't just fleeing back into certain annihilation. Though he supposed throttling a spell out of Bastian was always an option. Bastian, however, was watching his sister with a speculative expression that for whatever reason made Gabriel uneasy.
"I think," Bastian said, "all things considered, that the plan has just changed."
Gabriel looked back at Rowan, who was caught in the embrace of three of her sisters. "You mean the wings?" he asked, feeling more than a little stupid. Was this not something Rowan had been known to do before?
Bastian raised his eyebrows incredulously. "I mean considering your mate is half dragon. Don't you think that changes things somewhat?"
Dragon.
Dragon?
Gabriel opened his mouth to say something intelligent and perceptive about this. It was no great surprise to him when nothing came out. He frowned, gritted his teeth, and tried to collect his thoughts, which were suddenly awhirl with visions of making love to a sharp-toothed serpent. It wasn't pretty, and it was beyond distracting.
Rowan ... a dragon ... wait a minute ... what?
By the time he remembered he had an audience, Bastian looked ready to punch him. "Don't tell me that after all of this you're considering having a problem with that."
"No. I ... no. It's just ... I mean, how did you not know that?" Gabriel stammered, trying desperately to get his bearings. It wasn't that it changed his love for her, he thought. But it was a hell of a thing to have suddenly sprung on you. He really shouldn't be expected to be at all coherent about it right now. He would get over it. He was just going to need some time to wrap his brain around it.
"Look," Bastian snapped, beginning to look dangerous. "I assume that Rowan mentioned this, but the Dyana hasn't taken a mate in over a thousand years. All of Elara's children have different fathers. Some of us know who they are. Some don't. And no one particularly cares." He flung out a hand, pointing at a delicate, sloe-eyed beauty with curly brown hair that fell to her waist. "Reya's father is a faun. The man is half goat, for the Goddess's sake, and runs around naked as the day he was born. Are you going to start gawping like a fish every time she gets near you now, too?"
Gabriel hated feeling like an ass. It was something he tried to avoid, though often unsuccessfully, at all costs. But for a man who could change into a beast at will, it occurred to him that he was being awfully stupid about bloodlines. He exhaled loudly and scrubbed his palm across the back of his neck.
"No. Of course not. Sorry. It's just, ah ... different. That's all." He shot a look at Bastian's fists, which he was pleased to see loosened slightly. "I don't care." When Bastian looked at him skeptically, he repeated, more irritably, "I don't. But I'm allowed to be surprised, aren't I?"
Bastian gave a noncommittal grunt. "Hmm."
Gabriel considered Rowan, who glanced over to give him a look that was both questioning and full of love. The wings were gone, but the glow remained, as though she'd just discovered something wonderful.
So, Gabriel decided, had he. That was really all there was to it in the end.
He responded to the question in her expression with a wink, earning him a brilliant smile in return before her attention was captured again by the sisters competing for it. She would always be his Rowan. He was just going to have to make certain he always had adequate cover before he pissed her off from now on. The thought made him grin, and when he addressed Bastian again, it was with a different tone entirely.
"Have some sympathy, man. I've got myself a mate who's higher on the food chain than I am. Give me a minute to mourn, all right?"
His sense of humor had always been his way of apologizing. Making Gideon laugh when he might otherwise have killed him had been his way of life for many years now. And, he was relieved to see, Bastian was just as receptive. His mouth gave a reluctant twitch.
"You're an ass, MacInnes."
"Agreed."
"Well, as long as you recognize it, I'll let you live." He gave him a wry smile, but his gaze was serious. "She'll need to know you're comfortable with it. Especially considering who her father probably is. I didn't put two and two together then, but it all makes sense. It's why Rowan's gift is fire. And why my mother was so determined that Lucien shouldn't have Rowan. An 'abomination,' she called it. Brother and sister ..." He trailed off, making a face. "She was right. I only wish she'd mentioned the connection, but it wasn't her way."
Gabriel blew out a breath. He'd made the connection right after Bastian had said the word "dragon." Well, once his brain had started forming words again.
"Yeah. I know."
They stood in silence for a moment, each lost in thought. Until finally, Gabriel, who'd never been able to tolerate long periods without conversation, elbowed Bastian to get his attention.
"Do you think Mordred knows?"
Bastian shrugged, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I don't know. Maybe. Sick bastard. But I'm willing to bet Lucien doesn't. That isn't going to sit well." He smiled, a cruel little twist of his mouth that made Gabriel pity anyone who ever got on his bad side. He didn't even want to speculate on what sort of combination produced a blood-drinking, world-hopping wizard. And he sure as hell wasn't going to ask. So instead he pictured the coming fight, and Rowan in whatever her full glory turned out to be.