Page 67 of The Finest Scottish Fate

With trembling fingers, he barely touched her cheek, gently swiping his fingertips through the trail of tears. “Dinna cry, my own. I love ye with a fury and always will.”

“The bond is true and fast now,” said a voice that rang out like the tolling of a thousand celestial bells. A fearsome power glowing with the blinding brightness of the sun—a gleaming, coppery orb of swirling fire—hovered just inside the window. “I was thinking ye would never discover that all ye needed was the magic of true love’s kiss. Never forget yer fairytales, my children. They tell ye everything ye need to know.”

Evie dove across the room, grabbed the iron fire poker, then charged back to Drummond and stood between him and whatever or whoever this was. She brandished the metal rod like a mighty sword, determined to beat them back or die trying. “Get away from him. You’re not going to hurt him again.”

The orb laughed, releasing a cloud of bright red and orange butterflies into the room. “Silly child. That wee stick might shoo the Fae, but I am the mighty Danu.”

Danu? Evie kept the iron raised just in case, while racking her brain for everything Morganna had told her. “Danu. Mother goddess. Right?”

The orb glowed brighter. “Aye, my child.”

“Well, let me tell you,” Evie said, fed up with gods, goddesses, and fairies. “For a mother goddess, you’re not very motherly. You curse people who are only guilty of loving each other. You nearly killed my husband when all he’s done is try to protect me. You pop in here, smirking, probably disappointed that he finally woke up. You’re not a mother. You’re a tyrant. An abusive force—not a mother goddess who is supposed to be benevolent.”

“Evie,” Drummond rasped, catching hold of her skirts and weakly tugging her back. “Ye must not—”

Still keeping her attention locked on the swirling ball of fire, she shook a finger at him, then gently swatted at his hand. “Shh! I’m mad as hell about what they did to you and the way they’re playing this curse game with the odds stacked in their favor. If they want to call themselves gods and goddesses, then they need to act like it and play fair.”

A cloud of blue and silvery-white butterflies fluttered into the room, and the orb once again swelled in size.

“Ye have fire, daughter,” Danu said, “and I understand yer rage. When we fear losing those we love, we are not always rational.” Then a chilling breeze blew into the room. “But ye must try to understand there are reasons for what the gods and I do. The curse was necessary, and those of Craig Durness have yet to learn the humility we require of them.” The butterflies disappeared, evaporating like smoke. “But I agree that the Fae went too far this time. Sadly, that is what that race does. If they wish to attack, they should limit those attacks to Craig Durness—not focus their anger on the mortals manipulated by the cursed ones. I assure ye, I will make my displeasure known to them.”

Evie started to argue that Morganna and Callum hadn’t manipulated her, but that wasn’t exactly true. They had manipulated her in every sense of the word. But if they hadn’t, she never would’ve met Drummond. “What is wrong with those of Craig Durness being brave enough to love who they love? That curse is unjust. Why would you want to stop love? Isn’t a world full of love better than a world filled with hate?”

The orb swelled, then reduced in size as though inhaling and exhaling with a heavy sigh. “It is a complicated matter, my child, and I am but one part of that complication. But live in peace and love now, and know the attacks and tests are over. The two of ye have proven yer bond is strong and sure. Ye have won the right to be left alone.”

Evie didn’t believe her. “You say that, but what about the other six? What about the Seelie and Unseelie?” Too much had happened for her to trust any of them. “You just said you didn’t agree with the ways of the Fae. What makes you so sure you can control them?”

“Evie—m’love. Ye must stop.” Drummond floundered in the bed, trying to push himself upright among the pillows.

She shook her finger at him again. “You be still. You’re too weak to get into this, and it’s their fault. I’ll handle it.”

Danu’s laughter echoed through the room, repeating over and over as if the place had the acoustics of a cathedral. “What a fine mother ye will be. Such a strong woman to improve this century.”

The goddess’s orb floated toward her, but Evie held her ground. Danu wasn’t getting to Drummond through her. Then twin sparks shot out of it. One caught her in the neck, just below her right ear, with a searing pain that made her cry out and slap her hand over it, but she didn’t drop her weapon. Behind her, Drummond cursed under his breath and rolled to his side, holding his hand to his neck as well.

“You liar!” Evie swung at the orb, her rage for Drummond obliterating any possible fear. “You said we’d be left alone, and you just attacked us?”

“I nay attacked ye,” Danu said, sounding slightly peeved. “I marked ye with my triskele. Both of ye. All who see the spiral of the triple goddess will know ye are under my personal protection. Yer children will be born with my mark as well. It is my oath to ye and yer descendants, because ye have proven yerself worthy of my lineage. The Fae will not dare touch ye. They know my wrath and are loath to experience it again.”

Gripping the metal poker even tighter, Evie backed up against the bed and stole a glance at Drummond. “Are you all right?”

“I am fine, my own. Please, for my sake, accept the goddess’s words.”

A relieved sob escaped her, almost making her choke. It was so good to have him back. She’d so needed to look into those dark eyes of his and see the other half of her soul. She faced the orb and allowed the iron poker to clatter to the floor. “Thank you, but don’t be insulted when I say I hope I never see you again.”

“Blessings upon ye both, my children. Live, love, and thrive.” The blazing orb disappeared, leaving the room feeling emptier than before.

Her strength gone, Evie stumbled and sagged down onto the bed.

Drummond struggled to roll her into his arms and helped her stretch out beside him. “My beloved warrioress,” he said in a weary whisper, “fearless and ready to fight the mother goddess herself.”

“I’d fight anyone for you.” She held fast to him and nestled closer, burying her face in his chest. “I hope what she said is true. That everyone will leave us alone now.” She closed her eyes and smiled. His heart beat stronger now, thumping against her as if eager to get on with life. “But at least you’re back. If anyone comes for us, we’ll fight them together.”

“Aye, m’love. We shall face everything together from this day forward.”

*

Callum stumbled out from behind the pub’s bar, throwing himself into the backroom before any of the mortal patrons noticed his blood shimmered with a golden glow. With a hand clapped to his nose, he grabbed a bar towel from the stack on the shelf and fought to stanch the flow.