THIRTY-NINE


Sonya rushed from the dungeons into the great hall when she heard Broc bellow her name. It had taken all of them to keep Fiona inside the dungeon as Reaghan searched for Braden. Fiona’s grief-stricken cries had broken Sonya’s heart.

Exhaustion and weariness weighed heavily on Sonya. She had slept little. Not even Broc’s promise to fly the Druids into the castle had helped ease her worry. Nor would it until her sister was beside her.

Then it had taken all she had to save Odara. At one point, Sonya hadn’t thought she would be able to help the old woman. She worried that the fear she had long had of losing her magic was coming to pass.

And it couldn’t have come at a worse time, when others would need her so desperately.

“Sonya, hurry,” Broc yelled as he carefully laid something on the floor.

Her steps wavered when she caught sight of Braden. Tears gathered when she saw the boy’s chest and the deep slash that cut him diagonally from hip to shoulder. Sonya knelt beside him and held her hands over the wound.

It took a moment for her magic to come to her, once more bringing to mind her unease that she might one day lose her healing magic when it was needed most.

Braden’s wound was severe, but his little body was strong and he fought for life, which helped Sonya’s magic. Still, it took everything she had, pouring all of her magic into Braden, before the wound began to close.

The fact that the wound was large and gaping meant she had to use her magic even longer. She couldn’t rest, couldn’t rebuild her strength, for fear Braden’s body might give out.

When the last of the wound had come together, Sonya lowered her hands and nearly fell over.

Broc’s strong arm came around her. “It’s over now.”

She wanted to do nothing more than sleep for a sennight.

Then they heard the anguished, heartbroken roar.

*


Galen swiped his claws across the chest of a MacClure and watched as the mortal fell backward, his lifeless eyes staring at the sky.

He glanced around for his next victim, only to discover that the few remaining MacClures were running away. Galen looked around at the carnage. So many lives had been taken, and all in Deirdre’s bid for dominance.

Galen started toward the castle to help the others with the wyrran when auburn locks lying amid the grass caught his eye. He paused, his heart suddenly unable to beat.

“Nay,” he whispered, refusing to believe what he saw.

Reaghan was in the castle. Safe from harm. It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her.

It’s one of the other Druids who just arrived.

It didn’t matter how many times Galen told himself that, he had to know for sure.

With heavy feet and a sinking heart, he started toward the woman. He saw the spear sticking from her back. She lay at such an angle that Galen couldn’t see her face.

He took a few more steps then halted. All his breath left his body when he glimpsed Reaghan’s face. Galen ran the remaining steps to her, the roar which tore from his throat stripping him of his soul.

Galen dropped to his knees and smoothed Reaghan’s hair from her face. His hands shook, his god having ducked away at the grief that assaulted Galen.

Carefully, he put his hand under Reaghan’s shoulders and brought her against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to believe she was gone, that he hadn’t known she needed him.

“Galen?”

He opened his eyes to see Duncan behind Reaghan, his hand on the spear. Galen nodded. A scant heartbeat later Duncan yanked the spear from Reagan’s back.

She cried out, her hands clutching him. Galen stroked her hair and her back. “You’ll be all right.”

“I’m going to get Sonya,” Duncan said.

Galen barely heard him as he lowered Reaghan so he could look into her eyes. Her skin was deathly pale, her breathing weak.

“Galen,” she whispered with a slight smile on her lips. “I had to save Braden.”

“It’s all right. Doona talk. Sonya is going to help you.”

Reaghan swallowed and slowly licked her lips. “I cannot feel my legs. I know … now I know how to break the spell.”

“Shh. You’re going to be all right,” Galen whispered. Blood poured from her wound, soaking his hand. He pushed against the wound to try and stanch the flow, but it continued to seep between his fingers to coat the grass.

She touched his cheek as she smiled, her eyes drifting closed.

“Please,” Galen said, choking. He felt the tears roll down his face, felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. “Reaghan, please doona leave me.”

Her eyes closed and her hand dropped. Galen cried out and pulled her to him, rocking her. He willed her to stay alive until Sonya could reach them, silently praying that God not take Reaghan away from him, not when he needed her.

Loved her.

Galen could feel the life draining from Reaghan’s body. He called to her, saying her name over and over again.

“Sonya’s here,” he dimly heard Logan say.

Galen lifted his face and found himself surrounded by Warriors and Druids. “Help her,” he begged Sonya.

Sonya closed her eyes and tears began to fall from them. The healer knelt beside Reaghan and lifted her hands. Galen waited for the blood flow to slow, for the wound to begin to heal.

But nothing happened.

Sonya’s tears increased. “I’m trying.”

“Please, Sonya. I need her. She’s dying, and you’re the only one who can save her.”

“Bring Isla!” Fallon bellowed.

But Galen knew it was too late. A shudder ran through Reaghan as her last breath passed her lips.

Grief. Agony. Rage.

They all ripped through Galen like lightning. He could do nothing but hold Reaghan. He had possessed the most important thing in his life, and he’d let her die.

“I’m so sorry,” Sonya whispered, and stumbled to her feet.

For a few short days Galen had held Reaghan, loved her … been loved by her. He’d been able to enjoy the simple pleasure of touching her, and being touched by her. Something he would never experience again.

How could he continue without her?

How would he even try?

Suddenly, Reaghan’s skin began to glow. She grew brighter and brighter, the light so brilliant Galen had to shield his eyes.

A white light burst from Reaghan’s eyes and mouth and shot from her fingertips. Galen never loosened his hold. He buried his face in her neck while he heard Fallon shout his name.

Galen paid no attention. Wherever Reaghan was going, he wanted to be with her.

Wind rushed around Galen, pushing him against Reaghan, against the ground. It grew stronger and stronger until it paused of a sudden. A heartbeat later there was a loud boom and the wind picked up again, swirling up from the ground as if it came from Reaghan.

The magic Galen had come to recognize and crave as Reaghan’s grew more solid. It filled the air and his very body, touching every fiber of his being.

Galen took a breath, the magic filling his lungs and burning him with its intensity at the same instant it soothed him with its purity.

He raised his head to find the white light was gone. As he gazed at Reaghan, he thought he saw her chest move. And then she took a gasping breath. Her body went rigid as she reached for him.

“I’m here,” he said. His heart was bursting with joy, his world once more complete. As long as he had Reaghan, he could do anything.

Reaghan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The pain that had devastated her body had vanished. She could still feel the remnants of it, but it was fading as if it had never been.

What was stranger was the beautiful, awesome magic which now filled her. It was many times stronger than what she had felt in the dungeons.

And with the return of her magic came all of her memories. They raced through her mind, images of people and places and events she had experienced from the day she was born until that moment.

She grew dizzy and gripped Galen tighter. The words her father had given her were now as clear as water. He had given her the means to break the spell when she had tried to find her magic to heal Odara.

“Reaghan?”

She lifted her eyes to Galen’s and smiled. “It’s me.”

He frowned, confusion filling his cobalt eyes. “I felt you die.”

“Aye, you did, but I am back. Along with all of my memories. The spell is broken.”

Odara stepped forward, supported by Marcail and Cara. “You mean you had to die?”

“Nay,” Reaghan said, and slowly sat up so she could see everyone. “Thankfully, the magic used to break the spell was strong enough to pull me back.”

Galen stroked her face with his fingers. The tears on his cheeks made her heart catch. He kissed her gently, reverently, as if he feared she might break. “You’re back. That’s all that matters.”

“I am.”

“I didna know how I was going to live without you.”

Reaghan placed her hand on his heart. “You would have. You’re a Warrior.”

“Without you, I am nothing.”

His declaration made her throat close up with tears. “I’ve been under my own spell for almost five hundred years. There were people who were kind, some who weren’t. There were those who needed me, and those who didn’t. Of all the people I’ve met and known, you, Galen Shaw, have been the only one who stirred my soul.”

“I love you,” he said. “I never thought I would know such joy.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, her heart bursting with happiness. “I think I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you.”

Galen smiled brightly and gave a shout of delight. His dark blue eyes twinkled as he lowered his head to hers. “I’m never letting you get away from me.”

“I don’t ever want to,” Reaghan answered.

His sensuous smile caused her stomach to flutter with desire. His languid kiss sealed their love and their future.


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