Knights of Stone - Lachlan (7 page)

When the guard returned, he said, “He was at rest, but agreed to see you. Only you.” He nodded at Lachlan. “Go straight through.” He pointed down a dark passageway lit by candles on wall sconces.

Ice slithered down Lachlan’s spine as he progressed alone through the cold stone cavern. He treaded the soil, his sluggish steps reflecting the overwhelming urge to turn back. He forced himself to power forward. The journey seemed like one that would never end; one he’d never return from.

“What a surprise,” a voice stopped him when he reached a vast cavern.

Duncan stepped into the light of the candles, his age reflected in the wrinkled appearance of his tough gargoyle hide. Duncan spent most of his time in gargoyle form. Gargoyles could shift to three states—human, stone, or gargoyle, which was in between human and stone. Their skin was gray and leathery, which made it more resilient than human skin, but not as inflexible as stone. Their features remained grotesque like the stone forms as well. Lachlan and his brothers spent more time in human form for its flexibility and stone form when at rest, and reserved the gargoyle state for certain situations, such as confrontations.

“I did not expect a visit from you.” Duncan’s voice conveyed the lack of enthusiasm at Lachlan’s arrival.

Lachlan bowed his head in greeting. “We hope you are doing well back in the Highlands.”

Duncan appraised him with a steady gaze. “What brings you here?”

Lachlan summarized the situation on the Isle of Stone, leaving out the part about Mason and Kayla. He’d already faced enough delays with that conversation with his parents. “Will you teach me what I must do?”

Many heartbeats passed in which Lachlan swore he heard each one echo in his chest before Duncan replied with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Part of being a leader means you need to take charge, yourself.”

“I never learned that kind of magic,” Lachlan admitted.

“Perhaps you should have studied it instead of chasing dreams of playing human music.” With a flourishing wave, he added, “And chasing females.”

He knew he’d have to deal with some disdain, but the distaste in his mouth was pungent. What did Duncan know about the world outside the closed one within the clan? At least, Lachlan and his brothers had explored what was out there.

“What’s past is done,” Lachlan replied, forcing a steady voice so as not to reveal his impatience. “We need to adjust to ensure a better future for those of us who chose to remain on the Isle.”

“Then I suggest you become resourceful.” Duncan turned away.

Lachlan’s stomach hollowed at Duncan’s crushing dismissal, but he quickly recovered. Without this magic, Lachlan would fail. If he failed, the humans would return, and they could lose the isle forever. He pictured Raina’s face. He didn’t want to fail her.

Forcing himself to swallow his pride, he addressed Duncan, “I ask for your assistance, Duncan. I know you don’t agree with how my brothers and I have chosen to live our lives, but we share the blood of our clan. Will you help us save our island, the way our ancestors have done in decades past?”

Duncan cast a lazy glance over his shoulder. “We have returned to our ancestral homeland, here in the Highlands. Our clan’s time on the Isle of Stone is over. If you wish to remain there and lead a small clan, you must prove yourself worthy of leadership.” With that final declaration, he returned to the darkness of the cavern.

Lachlan left the enclosed space with a weighted shadow dragging his soul. What in bloody hell was he going to do now? What would he tell his brothers? Raina?

Picturing her disappointment hit him with a blow, as unforgiving as hitting one of the stone walls. If he failed his brothers, they’d have to leave the Isle of Stone. And go where? They’d find a way somehow, but it would not be crawling back here to his former clan, not after they’d shunned him when he’d come for help.

If he failed Raina—what would she do? Where would she go?

Lachlan trudged over the dark, craggy rocks, returning to where he’d left his parents. His brothers had joined them. Had he and his brothers made a huge mistake in playing as themselves as the Knights of Stone? He’d never thought that way before, but now with their future crumbling before them, he had to face the consequences of their choice. Sure they’d known their time was limited, but they had wanted one chance, at least, to play as their true selves.

When he reached his brothers, he explained, through clenched teeth, how the conversation had unraveled, a bitter taste of Duncan’s refusal still fresh in Lachlan’s mouth.

“So now what?” Bryce asked.

He jutted his jaw out, not yet willing to admit defeat. “We fly back to the island and figure something out.”

After exchanging goodbyes with their parents, they trekked from the castle remains. Spreading his wings in preparation for flight, he’d ascended a mere foot off the earth when his mother’s voice stopped him.

“Boys, wait.” Her voice sounded like she was out of breath from chasing them.

He descended and brought his wings in. “Mum?”

“I have some information that may help you.”

A glimmer of hope flickered in the bleakness of uncertainty, but he stifled it. Nothing had come of his visit so far, except for wounded his pride. “What is it?” he asked with wariness.

“I don’t know exactly how it works, but I know it is a three-part spell with the gargoyles, wolves, and witches.”

Lachlan guessed that already. Otherwise just one of the species could take care of protecting the isle. He kept his mouth shut so she’d continue.

“The witches use magic to keep intruders out. Your brothers are well aware of it on a lesser scale with the barrier protecting their territory.”

Lachlan opened his mouth to mention his recent encounter with it with the humans, but closed it so as not to interrupt her.

“I’m not sure what the wolves do.”

Although that didn’t help, Lachlan’s heart still pounded in anticipation. “And the gargoyles?”

“We provide protection. It strengthens the bond of the witches’ and wolves’ magic. In effect, sealing the island in a protective bubble.”

“How do we create it?” Bryce asked, echoing Lachlan’s question.

Her worried glance didn’t give him optimism. “Not sure. The eldest and most powerful gargoyles in the clan did that task.”

It didn’t help much. Lachlan studied her face as she spoke as if he could find the key.

She put her hand on his in a reassuring manner. “It’s something you must find within.”

“We’re guessing you and your brothers will have to work together,” their father piped up, stepping out of the shadows.

Lachlan blinked with surprise. He was the last person whom he thought would offer him any help. Well, except for Duncan. His mother must have gotten to him. She had a way of bringing his stubborn father around to her reasoning with persuasive words and a gentle touch. He wouldn’t change his mind for anyone else, except her.

“With only five of you left,” his father added, “Who knows if that’s enough?”

The following afternoon, Raina trekked through the dense woods in wolf territory into the sunny moors to meet the witch, Kayla. A young woman wearing a tunic bounded out of the copse surrounded by heather and tall grasses. Petite and pretty with a welcoming smile, she exuded a light floral scent. She looked to be around twenty, a couple of years younger than Raina.

“Hi, I’m Raina. You must be Kayla.”

“I am. You’re here for the potion?”

Raina nodded. Movement in the trees caught her attention. The large male bodies with bare torsos and wearing blue kilts had to be the gargoyles. If so, was Lachlan in there?

“What are they doing?” she asked Kayla.

“Mason’s brothers are moving logs we’ll use to build a house. A couple of carpenters in our coven will build it for us.”

She searched for Lachlan through the shadows where the setting sun filtered through the trees. When she caught sight of his unmistakable silhouette with his long dark hair pulled back, her heart gave an unexpected flutter, and an odd sense of relief filtered through her.

He hoisted a log over his shoulder, one that would weigh down a normal sized male. Muscle movement in his back and shoulder blades captivated her as he carried the heavy wood.

“Mason is one of the gargoyle shifters, correct?”

“Aye. He has black hair, down to his shoulders. Not the one with longer black hair—that’s his older brother Lachlan.”

Raina knew
exactly
who Lachlan was. Her inner wolf wagged her tail with excitement.

A tree witch and a gargoyle shifter. With the island’s natives separated her entire life, she’d never contemplated that possibility. But if they could make it work…

Don’t. Even. Think. It.

She peeked over at Lachlan, again. He wiped sweat from his brow and straightened, drawing her attention to his barrel-sized chest. A beam of sunlight highlighted the contours with light and shadows and the gleam from perspiration. A vision of them in a torrid embrace flickered in her mind.

Hells bells, he was distracting. Did he ever wear a shirt?

Unable to keep her curiosity about Kayla and Mason’s relationship tamed, Raina asked, “So how did you two end up together?”

A wistful smile spread across Kayla’s face. “I’d sneak over to watch their concerts. And I took a particular interest in the guitarist.”

“I heard their shows are—” Audacious? Lewd? Those were a couple of words she heard tossed around her pack, but it didn’t seem right to insult the gargoyles in front of Kayla. “—quite the spectacle.”

“Aye, they are indeed.” Kayla’s eyes widened with a bright gleam. “You should come see them sometime.”

Raina arched a brow. After the chaos of the last concert, a repeat performance was unlikely. Wolf shifters would be especially unwelcome. “Without an audience on the island, why would they play here?”

“True,” Kayla replied, her gaze drifting off. “I’m hoping it’s not the end of the Knights of Stone, though. Maybe they’ll go play in some of the major cities, again. It’s not easy for them to give up something they love.”

Raina had never considered that. Only the trouble their music had caused. Would Lachlan miss performing? What role did he play in the band? She stole another glance at him. She pictured him on a stage, likely shirtless as always. Adoring female fans would vie for his attention, licking their lips in anticipation of clamping their greedy little paws around his muscular biceps. A quick and unexpected pang of jealousy welled up, and her wolf began to emerge. Her fingernails extended to points, so she hid them behind her back. Taking a few slow breaths, she tamed the heated reaction and her claws retracted.

She had to play it cool, maintain control of her emotions and not react rashly like she did yesterday. If she was to be alpha, she needed to be more like her father. After Lachlan had kissed her, her mind had churned topsy-turvy analyzing why he’d done it—and fantasizing about so much more. The kiss was more passionate than any she’d ever had.
Och
. Figured he’d only done it to shut her up. Typical rock star action from what she’d heard. Womanizing was part of the package. Bed as many lasses as they could. She groaned at her naivety, while replaying the moment their lips met. A part of her wished they’d do it again.

A saucy voice inside her volunteered to open her big mouth more often so he’d quiet her like that every day.

What was
wrong
with her? He was a jerk, plain and simple. No matter how devoted he appeared to be right now by helping his younger brother—even if it meant helping build a home for him and a tree witch. Loyalty to one’s pack was a highly prized trait to wolf shifters, and she couldn’t help but admire that quality.

Focus.

“It must have been difficult for you two to get together considering—” Raina left her thought unfinished. What could she say, considering your kinds were sworn enemies? “—considering the differences.” She left it vague. Their relationship intrigued Raina and she didn’t want to say anything offensive to shut Kayla down.

Kayla’s mouth turned into a grim line. “No, it wasn’t easy. We thought about running away, leaving the isle, knowing the prejudices on each side.”

What did a passion like that feel like? Her inner wolf perked up, yearning for that kind of connection with a mate.

Raina remembered what happened with her parents and the familiar tightening in her stomach returned. She ignored her wolf’s longing. Raina had a plan for her life—she would rule with Seth as her mate—even if that elusive connection between them never took shape.
Preferably
if it didn’t. She didn’t want that kind of vulnerability, which could leave her crushed.

Still, Kayla and Mason’s relationship fascinated her. “Why didn’t you?”

“Everything came to a head the night of the attack. And well, even with the tragic events, it had one positive aspect; it brought all of us on the island together for the first time in a quarter of a century. Before I was even born.”

“Me, too,” Raina agreed. What about Lachlan? He appeared to be in his thirties so he must have been a child when the natives divided the island.

Kayla wasn’t anything like what Raina had expected a tree witch to be like. She was forthcoming and a bit of a dreamer, nothing like the sardonic elder witches who’d attended the peace talks. Since the island’s natives had lived divided for so many years, she’s assumed the witches were reclusive freaks. After all, they lived in tree houses and did who knows what sort of strange rituals. Although Raina’s pack might think she’d lost her mind, she liked Kayla.

Kayla jerked her head up, snapping out of her reverie. “You came for the potion.”

Raina adjusted to the abrupt change in the conversation. “Before the rift between us, apparently the tree witches would brew a potion we’d give to our youngest and most vulnerable pack mates. I know it’s been twenty-five years at least since they created it for us, but were they able to come up with anything?”

“Aye.” Kayla pulled a purple velvet sac out from behind a tree. She took out a bottle with a smoky rose liquid. “This should be enough for three months. When you need more, come see me here in the copse. You can see the house; it should be done by then. Don’t bother with the elder witches. They’re old and cantankerous.” She laughed. “I swear they’ll still bear grudges long after they’re dead and gone.”