“We’re clan, Dageus,” Drustan said softly. “Da would never turn his back on you. And the timing couldn’t be more fortuitous. The spring equinox is but a few days hence—”
“ ’Tis no’ necessary,” Dageus cut him off. “I can open the stones any day, at any hour.”
“What?” Drustan and Gwen exclaimed together.
“ ’Twould seem our esteemed benefactors withheld significant portions of knowledge from us. The stones can be opened any time. It but requires a different set of formulas.”
“And you know these formulas?” Drustan pressed.
“Aye. Because those within me do. Their knowledge is mine.”
“Why would such knowledge have been withheld from us?”
“I suspect they intended it as a deterrent to keep a Keltar from opening a bridge through time rashly. One might entertain the notion—say, if one’s brother died—to go through the stones that very day and undo it. But if one was forced to wait until the next solstice or equinox, one might have endured the worst of the grief by that time, and decide against it.” Dageus’s voice dripped self-mockery.
“How long did you wait?” Drustan asked quietly.
“Three moons, four days and eleven hours.”
No one said anything for a time after that. Finally, Gwen shook herself, and rose. “While you two discuss this, I’ll go prepare a room for Chloe.”
“She sleeps with me,” Dageus said in a low growl.
“She said you weren’t sleeping together,” Gwen said evenly.
“Christ, Gwen, what did you do? Ask her?”
“Of course I did,” Gwen replied, as if she couldn’t believe he’d even ask such a silly question. “But aside from admitting that much, she wasn’t exactly forthcoming. So, what is she to you?”
“His mate,” Drustan said softly.
“Really?” Gwen beamed. “Oh!” She clapped her hands delightedly. “I’m so happy for you, Dageus!”
Dageus pinned her with a forbidding stare. “Och, lass, are you witless? ’Tis no’ a time for celebration. Chloe doesn’t ken what I am and—”
“Don’t underestimate her, Dageus. We women are not as fragile as you men like to believe.”
“Then put her in my room,” he said evenly.
“No,” Gwen said just as evenly.
“You will put her in my room.”
Gwen tipped her chin up and fisted her hands at her waist, staring him down. For a moment, Dageus was reminded of Chloe brandishing one of his own blades at him, and wondered how such wee women could be so unafraid of men such as he and his brother. Remarkable, but they were.
“No, I won’t, Mr. Big Bad and Dark,” she said. “You don’t scare me. And you’re not bullying me, or her, into anything we don’t want.”
“You shouldn’t just go about asking people if they’re sleeping with each other,” he hissed.
“How else was I going to know where to put her?”
“By asking me.” He glowered but she showed no signs of budging, so he turned to Drustan for support.
Drustan shrugged. “My wife is lady of the castle. Doona be looking to me.”
“She’s safe here, Dageus,” Gwen said gently. “I’ll put the two of you across the hall from each other. She can share your room if she chooses to.”
As Gwen slipped from the library, she cast a last glance over her shoulder at the two magnificent Highlanders. She was both elated and deeply troubled, elated that Dageus had come home, troubled by what was yet to come. She and Drustan had been so certain their idea would work, they’d not thought beyond it.
Now Dageus was going to have to go back into the past. Open a bridge through time and search the old lore. She didn’t want to let him go, and knew Drustan didn’t either. But there wasn’t much choice. She intended to try to cajole him into waiting a few days, but harbored little hope on that score.
Even without the benefit of her husband’s Druid senses, she could feel that Dageus was different. There was something violent in him. Something barely contained, on the verge of exploding.
She arched a brow, thinking that, though she would never tell her husband so, Dageus was even sexier dark than he’d been before. He was raw and primal and something about him made a woman’s every nerve stand up on end.
Her thoughts went to the woman upstairs. If Chloe had any sense at all, she mused, she’d be sharing his room tonight, and for however many future nights they might have.