A Kiss of Flame (Shadows Eternal #3)

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

L evian grumbled, not in the mood to rouse herself enough to put out the annoying glow of the fire in her room. With a grunt of protest, she reached for a pillow to pull over her face and snarled as a sharp jolt of agony spread through her body the moment she tried.

“Careful,” a soothing voice said from her other side. Levian startled, which made her hiss with pain all over. “I’ve a tonic that'll help wi' the pain if ye need it.”

Levian blinked through the fog clouding her thoughts, her vision narrowing until she finally saw the woman sitting beside her. She was pretty, with kind eyes and a sweet, freckled face. Her slim dragon wings were tucked tightly behind her back, her tail swishing gently. Given her Scottish brogue and distinctive hair, Levian didn’t doubt for a moment that this was one of Barith’s relatives.

"I’m Ismay," she said with a soft smile, pouring a bit of tonic onto a spoon.

Levian’s head throbbed as she attempted to nod. "Barith’s sister?"

Ismay nodded. "Aye. Though you probably already guessed that I’d wager." She held the spoon up for Levian. "Take this. It’ll help with the pain now that yer awake."

Levian didn’t argue and took the potion, grimacing as she swallowed. It was a thick syrup that tasted of sugared peaches, but there was a bitter aftertaste. "What is it?" she asked, curious. Levian hadn’t known one of Barith’s sisters was a healer.

"Oh, just a wee dram I made. Took me ages to make it not taste like dirt, though. How is it?"

The mage was impressed. She was already feeling more relaxed, the pain subsiding to a dull, manageable ache. "It’s wonderful," Levian admitted. "And it tastes lovely." Like cherry candies.

Ismay smiled wide with appreciation. "I’ve never treated a mage before," she admitted. "I’m only used to tendin’ to dragons. It’s why I had to get the taste better. The others wouldnae take it unless it tasted like candy," she added with a roll of her eyes.

Levian chuckled, but the motion made her chest throb. She could only imagine Barith turning his nose up at his sister’s healing potions. Ismay was more patient than she would have been. Levian would have told Barith to hold his nose and chase her tonics with whiskey.

"Where am I?" Levian asked, glancing around the room. It was a nicely sized, simply furnished room with a small fire.

"Eilean Teine," Ismay told her as she slid over to a dresser.

"What?" Levian questioned with unveiled shock. Eilean Teine was the home of Barith’s horde. It was also the last place she would’ve expected him to bring her. As her head began to clear from the pain, thanks to Ismay’s tonic, Levian’s mind began to race. It was still fuzzy, but she remembered Vane’s blade pressed against her throat, Barith bursting in to save her like a fiery, angry god. She touched her fingers lightly to the bandage. Tsuki had thrown the Dokk blade. Levian shivered at the memory. It had felt violating not to be able to wield magick, but the Dokk blade had felt like the cold touch of death.

"Ye got intae a scrape last night," Ismay explained, laying out a cotton nightgown on the bed, "an' my brother brought ye to me to fix you up. Dinnae ken if I did the best job, but ye’ve been restin' better the last half day, so we werenae so worried anymore."

Levian’s emotions tumbled over each other. Why had Barith brought her here? She wasn’t used to needing anyone’s help—she’d always been the one others turned to for healing, for magick. Yet, here she was, relying on Barith’s family to save her. Her chest tightened, a mix of gratitude and frustration mingling inside her. She forced herself to swallow it down. Ismay’s handiwork was impressive; the fact that Levian was lucid so soon after such an injury proved as much.

"They used one of those door stones to get to Orkney and flew the rest of the way," Ismay continued, pulling out a cute woolen shawl.

Levian shuddered again, imagining Barith flying her over the frigid sea. He knew how much she hated to fly. He could have only managed it with her unconscious.

"Thank you," she told Ismay, her voice softer. "For saving me. It’s no easy task, healing damage done by Dokk blades. You’re very talented."

Ismay helped her slide on the gown. "Och, I just did as any sister or healer would have done," she humbly replied. "Barith’s been in a right state. He’ll be happy to know yer awake."

Levian’s heart gave a hard thump, and her nerves began to outweigh her exhaustion and pain. "Was he terribly angry?" she asked.

Ismay paused, her gaze thoughtful. "He was worried more than anything," she finally replied. "Though he’s been in a bit of a mood with everything going on. Not that it’s anything you need to worry over."

Levian nibbled on her bottom lip. "Does the Queen know I’m here?" Barith’s sister held a breath as she thought about how to answer. She was a terrible bluff. "She doesn’t."

"My sisters thought it best to keep it quiet for now," Ismay admitted sheepishly.

The mage huffed. "Do you have anything stronger?" she asked. "I want to try and get out of bed."

Ismay shook her head. "Ye need to rest. At least a week, maybe more."

Levian was already throwing the blankets off her. "I can’t," she told Ismay, shifting her legs over the edge. The effort drained her, and her legs felt like lead, but she was determined.

"Mum won’t know you’re here," Ismay assured her, a note of urgency in her voice. "Only the five of us know, and we’ve all sworn not to tell."

Levian snorted, her toes grazing the woolen rug separating her feet from the cold stone floor. "Judith will probably tell her I’m here the second she gets the chance. She hates me."

Ismay grunted. Apparently, all the McCroys shared their love of grunts and grumbles.

"I haven’t yet," Judith said from the doorway.

Levian glanced up to find Barith’s youngest sister glaring at her. "It doesn’t mean you won’t," she snapped in return.

She knew Judith hated her because the dragon had made it abundantly clear. Judith had flatly declared that Levian represented Barith’s indulgent tendencies—that one day, he would have enough of her and come home to his horde where he belonged. Judith's disdain was palpable, and Levian wasn’t about to pretend otherwise.

Judith sneered at her. "I agreed to him bringing you here so Ismay could tend to you," she added. "But I agree that the sooner you’re gone, the better."

"Jude," Ismay scolded her sister. "Don’t be an arse."

"Jude’s being an arse?" another woman chimed in from behind Jude. A tall dragon with a shaved head and muscles that seemed to ripple with every movement popped her head into the doorway. She looked remarkably like Barith, just in female form.

Ismay sighed behind her. "That’s Catrìona," she told Levian.

Catrìona waved over Jude’s head and smiled. "Nice to see you not bleeding all over everything," she said to Levian. "And sorry for Jude. She was born with a pinecone up her?—"

Judith elbowed her sister in the ribs. Cat snarled in pain. "See what I mean? She’s like that with all of us." Jude grunted, rolled her eyes, and disappeared back into the house.

Cat lingered, rubbing her sore ribs. "She won’t tell," she whispered loudly with a wink. "Barith would have her hide if she did."

Ismay grumbled in protest as she helped Levian stand. "Where is he?" Levian asked.

"In a meeting with Mum," Cat told her. "He’ll be back soon, though."

Levian felt unsteady, both physically and emotionally. She wanted to see Barith, yet she was terrified. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she feared saying, and so much she probably shouldn’t. Her head throbbed in tandem with her heart, and she let out a deep, steadying breath.

"Ye really should rest," Ismay tried again.

Levian shook her head. "It’ll help me to move. I’ve never done well with bed rest." Not that she’d had to do much of it. It was rare that she was the one laid up in bed and not doing the tending. The change of roles unsettled her, but it also made her appreciate all the times Barith had thrown himself into the fray on her behalf, risking injury or worse. Her heart gave another irritating thump.

A glass of whiskey suddenly appeared before her. "Ismay did all the hard work," Cat said with a wink. "But this won’t hurt you either." Levian took the glass and shot back the contents. Cat chuckled. "I’m likin’ ye more and more."

It took her far too long to make her way into the living room, but Levian managed. The cottage was quaint and cute, with a single bedroom, a bathroom, and a large open living room and kitchen. Everything felt overly broad, and it took Levian a moment to recognize it was because they were all dragons and had to account for their wings.

It was an odd thing, seeing three dragons in one place, all with their wings out openly. She’d never been around more than two dragons at a given time, and one of them had always been Barith. As she sat in the kitchen with Barith’s sisters, Levian recognized that they were nothing like she’d expected. Cat and Ismay chatted and barbed at each other like proper siblings while Jude sat in the living room, adding surly corrections when she felt the need. Levian had never had a sister, but watching them all felt comforting. Cat and Ismay tried to include her as if they’d always known her, which was bizarre. Lovely, but—bizarre. She’d expected all of Barith’s sisters to hate her like Jude. Knowing they would only ever see her as the woman with whom their brother galavanted around the world, getting into trouble while avoiding his responsibilities at home.

"You must have some grand embarrassing stories of Barith, aye?" Cat chimed as she nibbled on a bit of cake.

Levian laughed lightly. "A few," she admitted, sipping her tea.

Cat slid closer to her at the table. "Come on. Give us one?"

"Only one?" she questioned skeptically. Cat laughed, and Ismay chuckled.

"We can trade," Cat offered with a sly smirk. "I’ve got loads too."

The door to the cottage opened just as she was about to accept, and Barith came looming in, his face set with frustration. Her heart thrummed, and Levian ignored the dull aches of pain. The moment he caught sight of her, his expression softened with relief.

"You’re awake," he said, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Levian nodded, clearing the lump in her throat before she spoke. "Ismay did an excellent job," she said, her nerves evident.

Barith stepped further into the house, and another of his sisters followed. She was curvy and tall, with a long plait of auburn hair thrown over her shoulder. Levian immediately guessed she must be the eldest, as she took in everyone in the room, her gaze assessing.

"You should be in bed," Barith grumbled, glaring at his sisters.

"I’m the one that wanted to get out of bed," Levian defended.

He grunted, and her heart gave a familiar, irritating thump.

All the sisters watched her and Barith, waiting to see what would happen next.

"I’m Flòra,” his sister introduced herself, breaking the tension. She cleared her throat. "Come, we’ve other things to do than gawk."

"Speak for yourself," Cat grumbled.

Flòra cut her a sharp look, but Cat merely shrugged as she took her plate to the sink. "Just promise me I’ll get to hear about those fingers," she told Levian as they all began to shuffle toward the door. Jude gave her one last scathing look before she slid out of the cottage after her.

Levian stilled. She’d forgotten about the fingers and everything she’d discovered at Vane’s.

"There’s more of the dram next to the bed if you need it," Ismay told her as she wrapped herself in a shawl. "I’ll be back in the morning to check on ye and change the bandage." She looked back with one last curious glance before disappearing into the night.

Flòra turned to follow. "I’m happy you’re doing better," she told Levian. "Don’t forget our meeting in the morning," she said to Barith. She glanced between them one last time and then slipped out, closing the door behind her.

The moment they were alone, Levian was sure Barith could hear her thrumming heart. The air grew heavy as the silence lingered.

"I’ve got your bag," Barith told her awkwardly. He was still hovering near the door.

"Did you get the blade?" she questioned.

"Aye," he nodded.

Silence lingered again. It was awkward—this was awkward. Levian sighed. She was too tired to get worked up. “I’m sorry,” she told him. I didn’t mean for all of this to happen.” And when she said it, she meant everything.

Barith looked out the dark window to the night sky and exhaled a deep, steadying breath. When he glanced at Levian, all he saw was the other half of his heart. He never thought he would see Levian sitting at his kitchen table on the island of his horde, wrapped in a tartan shawl. It was an odd thing, but seeing her there made him love her that much more. His heart ached, and his fingers itched to reach out and touch her. Barith kept his hands to himself and hovered near the door, unsure what to do or say.

He’d been so angry when she’d left him at Ember Hall with nothing but her little note. He’d been furious that she hadn’t returned any of his calls. All his anger had evaporated the moment she’d been injured.

When she apologized, it felt like she was punching him right in the stomach. She was sorry for all she’d put him through for all that she’d done. He swallowed.

"I’m not," he told her.

"Barith—" Levian began, but he raised his hand to still her. He didn’t want her to apologize or explain things. He just wanted to tell her what he’d wanted to say after she left him at Ember Hall.

"I wanted you after Beltane," he confessed, looking anywhere but at her. "That night, I found you in the forest, and we made love there in the grass; I think I gave you a bit of my heart then. But I know you, Vi. You made it clear you didn’t want anything more than friendship, and I was disappointed, but I understood." He closed his eyes, lost in memory, willing the words forward.

"You came and went. I came and went. But every time we were together, I felt it. This tug in my heart. I fought it and told myself to leave it be. To leave you be. To not ruin this thing we had. But I?—"

His heart was so raw, his nervous system racked by days of agony at being so far from her and then seeing her so gravely wounded. Now that she was here, awake and alive, he couldn’t bear keeping it in any longer.

"I love you, Vi," he told her. He felt the weight lift from him when he finally said it. "I’m so besotted I feel as though I’ve gone mad, and I know ye think I’m just clinging to you because I’m afraid of the mating, but I don’t care about any of it. All I care about is you. I spent all those years chasing my nymphs and lovers and romance, but?—"

The fire crackled, and the silence stretched still. When Barith dared glance at her again, he found her violet eyes brimming with tears. His heart tore apart at the sight of it. "All I want is a chance to love you," he told her. "Just a chance."

Tears fell down her cheeks, and she sniffled. Barith came and knelt next to her. "Dinnae cry," he told her, wiping a falling tear with his thumb over her cheek. Her skin was so warm, and it filled him with relief. He’d been so terrified he might lose her.

Levian gasped at the feel of his touch, and his skin tingled. Her eyes flew to his, and the tears that had built in them fluttered down her cheeks as she blinked.

He wiped them all away, holding her beautiful face in his hands. "Please, don’t cry, love."

She sniffled and lay her hand over his wrist, leaning her cheek into his calloused palm, and closed her eyes. The tenderness tore at him. He’d missed her so much.

Levian’s eyes fluttered open. She looked into his eyes as if she were staring into the depths of his soul. The fire inside him sizzled as she leaned forward. His breath caught, and she kissed him.