XI

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

If the endless screeching, the profane litany of befouling terms and cuss words, weren't indicative of the fury his unwitting heartmate harboured, then the shattering of a priceless antique ornamental urn against the wall just above his head certainly was.

Having yet to shift back into his human form, Aëghan huffed an annoyed breath and hunkered low to the slate stone floor of the ruins he had deposited Lillian within. The courtyard was large enough to accommodate his substantial size, and though once it had been the derelict foundations of what appeared to be a medieval castle, he had transformed the space resplendently.

Presently, however, the distressed female he had taken from Ravensfield seemed intent on destroying all that he held dear.

Tucking his wings close to his lithe body, Aëghan bounded through the high archway that would eventually lead to a spiral staircase and up into the rooms of the building. Here, he ducked behind the wall like a coward and compelled his muscles and limbs to shift and shrink, to revert back into his human form, until he stood naked and freezing against the cold stone wall while Lillian wreaked havoc in the adjoining courtyard.

Another resounding explosion splintered the air, the aching sound of porcelain shattering across the stones making him wince inwardly at the needless destruction. It had taken him weeks to acquire the priceless artefacts Lillian Adams was so intent on destroying- the pottery formed part of a collector's dream, intricately beautiful and ageless at once. Despite it belonging to human history, Aëghan could appreciate the value of art and luxury, and he was certainly not averse to indulging his epicurean tastes.

"Take me back!" Lillian bellowed, and something else violently met its demise. "Aëghan! I command you to take me back this instant!"

Perhaps, he conceded with a worried frown, he had acted rashly. Perhaps he had misread her words that had appeared magically upon his tablet, so acute to his senses as he writhed and curled within himself tethered and restrained upon his bed that they felt branded and seared into his very flesh as they appeared.

Take me away.

Is that not what she wrote? And on his very profile...

"You fool! You idiot!" Lillian raged, and Aëghan realised that he would need to take action and take it soon lest she raze his home to the ground. "Do you have any idea what you have done? Have you lost your damn mind? I command you to show your face, come and face me like a man so I may gut you from navel to nostril!"

The composed, frigid duchess he had witnessed before was gone apparently. Aëghan sighed audibly, a shiver running under his skin. He needed clothes, or a robe, firstly to ward off the sodding chill and secondly... to hide the damn mark that banded his upper arm.

"My lady," he drawled loudly, tilting his head to the side where the arched entrance to the courtyard would carry his voice to her, "I am most certain that if I were to face you in your present condition, I may very well be plucking splinters of glass from my flesh for weeks to come."

She snarled incoherently at that and something else was shattered most viciously.

Gods.

Either her words were a lie, or she had not intended that he ever read them. But that hardly explained her all-consuming panic at meeting her multitudinous suitors- the snivelling and vile males that sniffed at her heels for snippets of her attention like rabid hounds. The jealous rage that had coiled in his gut had been intolerable and he had endured it for as long as he could.

Aëghan wished he could blame the dragon for his actions. He wished he could blame the dragon for tearing through the restraints, for being so blinded by anguish and rage that he could think of nothing other than removing his heartmate from the very context that contributed to her distress.

"Aëghan?"

He snapped his head towards the spiral staircase and even in the shadows that loomed over them he recognized Enorae's long-limbed grace as she descended. Her fawn-like eyes were wide in shock at seeing him there- which is apt. He was supposed to be in Ravensfield, priming new grounds and territory for their imminent transferral to their new home and lands. They were all anticipating it, readying for their willing displacement from the depths of the forest they had all strived endlessly to make their home for the last several years.

"Enorae, I-" They both winced at the sleuth of oaths that preceded something large shattering against the floor in the courtyard behind him.

The female narrowed her eyes shrewdly before halting her descent on the final step, folding her arms across her midriff, and shooting him a caustic look. "Really, Aëghan? Again?"

"It's her sister," he hissed, keeping his voice low. "And it's different- look, could you simply retrieve a robe before I freeze my arse off?"

For a moment, Enorae merely glared at him, her dark eyes flashing with obstinance. She was one of the few Dravolese he knew of, and possibly the only one to know him better than anyone else other than Leowyn, which was why she was quick to issue him censorious looks and words whenever she felt him to be acting like an ass.

Which was, unfortunately, rather often.

She relaxed then and her gaze dropped slightly, arresting on his upper arm. Then her mouth dropped open amidst a startled gasp.

Aëghan cursed.

Enorae pointed, her finger extended unwaveringly towards the black band that blazed across his flesh like a damn signal torch. "That's-"

"Do not say it, Enorae," he said, his voice a low threat. Chaos reigned in the courtyard yet, and he was beginning to fear that Lillian may actually inflict bodily injury upon herself if he dallied any longer. "You are not to say a word of it to anyone, especially not her. A robe, please."

Her lips flattened into a disapproving line but then she quickly pivoted and disappeared back up the stairs. He knew he owed her an explanation and, truth be told, a lot more than that. Enorae was endlessly devoted to him and whatever that signified to his kind. Having lost more than most at the hands of a human, she was bound to...

Shortly, she returned with a robe to afford him some modesty before addressing the enraged future duchess of Ravensfield.

"Truly?" he asked, casting a dry look over the flowery and decidedly feminine article of clothing the female had brought for him.

"You hardly specified the sort of robe you would have liked, now did you?" She gave him a rather smug look.

Aëghan threw the bright garment over his shoulders, effectively covering the mark, and fastened it loosely closed. "I'll explain shortly, but perhaps ready the rooms for our... guest."

At the sound of yet more mayhem and destruction, Enorae raised her brow and simply said, "Best of luck to you, Aëghan. This one appears to have more fire in her veins than the other."

"I swear I'll cut your fucking throat out!"

Turning, Enorae began to ascend the stairs once more, casting over her shoulder, "And more words."

Upon entering the courtyard once more, Aëghan promptly had to duck, dropping into a low crouch as the errant rock she had procured from somewhere hurtled over the top of his head and landed hazardously somewhere behind him. "Lillian, I implore you- desist!"

Holding out his hands placatingly, he considered her warily while assessing what remained of the area  and what would serve her for further missiles. Thankfully, the remaining items of pottery were too large for her to utilize and the sizable containers that homed lively plants would deter her intentions. However, the small dagger she had unsheathed and was leveling at his chest was cause for some concern.

There was something riveting about her that stalled him for an imperceptible moment as he attempted to gather his breath. Her hair had come unbound during the flight here, whipped and tousled irreparably by the vehemence of the wind as he cradled her protectively to his chest, and subsequently it fell in riotous curls to her hips. There was a determinedly furious look pulling her features tight, her eyes flashing like sunlight catching on glaciers.

Her hand shook as she held the dagger extended towards him and he frowned at the slight motion. Not for the first time Aëghan wondered how no one else seemed to notice or concern themselves with the obvious signs of Lillian's distress.

Her turmoil was acute and he was astounded that none at Ravensfield had been aware of it, that no faeborn could discern it other than him. That no one close to her could identify the more telling signs- the way her jaw flexed and clenched, the slight tremulous breaths that quivered from her lips, the dilation of her pupils until only a narrow ring of ice blue was visible within her startling eyes.

Her fingers.

Why had none of them noticed? Taken stock that Lillian Adams was not faring as well as she let off?

He huffed an agitated breath, unwilling to dwell on such notions presently. He had acted at the behest of his own riotous unease. Whether he wanted it or not, Lillian Adams was bound to him through an ancient and powerful mark, and so long as they were then he was intrinsically linked to her on levels that others were not.

If he was to have any peace, then Lillian had to find hers, too.

It had to be that, he told himself silently, and not because the agony that twisted his heart at her distress was so severe he could scarcely breathe or think for it.

"Take me back!" she gritted out, her lips peeled back in sneer. "Take me back, Aëghan!"

Slowly, he straightened until his shoulders were no longer hunched over to protect his head from hurtling rocks. Keeping his hands raised in a manner he hoped she would interpret as calming, he told her, "You are not a prisoner, Lillian."

Her eyes narrowed. "You've clearly lost your mind," she snarled. "You've abducted a Ravensfield- again! I should have you skewered, your head on a pike! I hope dragons are tasty because it'll be served for days!"

"Charming."

"Return me at once, Aëghan!"

He sighed, his patience growing terribly thin at her lack of understanding. "You are free to leave anytime you wish, my lady," he explained to her slowly, mildly, as if he were attempting to converse with a child throwing a tantrum, "though you should ask yourself whether that is what you truly desire."

Her delicate brows snapped vehemently over her eyes. Her fingers that were clamped about the handle of the dagger tightened, her knuckles whitening. "Don't... don't be absurd!"

"If it helps alleviate your conscience, Lillian- by all means, place the blame at my door." He lowered his hands now and folded his arms over his chest. Cold from the stones beneath his feet was seeping into his limbs with a vengeance and he feared he had cut open his flesh on a few shards of expensive pottery this fiendish she-devil had broken in her fury. If he was to find any reprieve, he needed Lillian Adams to accept her circumstances sooner rather than later.

"Speak plainly," she commanded. Despite the firmness of her voice, the authoritative tone of her words, he could not help but notice the doubt that wavered her inflection.

"You did not want to be at Ravensfield, courting those idiots, any more than I did," he said flatly. "You wrote it, you felt it- I could taste the potency of your distress. But I understand. I understand you would not want your sister, and everybody else, to believe that you are shirking your responsibilities."

"You... you know not of what you speak!"

The smile that stretched his lips felt flat and insincere. Witnessing the confliction play openly on her beautiful countenance was more difficult to process than he would have imagined, his fingers itching to reach for her, to draw her against him and console her until whatever plagued her dissipated. But he resisted. He may be impetuous and prone to bouts of recklessness, but he was no fool.

He rather believed that if he made to touch Lillian right then, she would claw him to pieces.

He allowed a moment of silence to stretch between them before he raised his shoulders in a nonplussed shrug. "Should you wish to leave, you are free to do so." Even though he knew it would be testing her, he edged towards her slightly by sliding a foot forward, bringing them closer together. He sensed her stiffen, tension tightening in her shoulders and snapping her spine straighter. "I'll return you immediately, this very moment. But, and I mean this most profusely, there is not one person here who will judge you harshly should you wish to stay. You will be well taken care of, with your own rooms- free to come and go as you please, no one to place expectations on you, no one to please."

The dagger lowered somewhat as she contemplated his words, her hand tremors lessening only slightly as she mulled over the incentives within her mind.

"If that is what you desire, use me as your scapegoat," he went on. "They'll expect it, anyway. The dragon abducts the Ravensfield heir once again for his own nefarious purposes."

Still, Lillian did not respond. It appeared most of the fight had left her- mercifully, he thought- and in its stead was her coolly poised facade, though the lines of consternation were clear indications of her indecision over his words.

Timeously, and as he anticipated, the air between them thickened and shifted inwards, the pull of magic prevalent as an astoundingly hideous imp suddenly materialised as if from nothing. The pint-sized creature yawned resoundingly, grunted, scratched an armpit, before turning to blink up at Aëghan in a manner that spoke volumes of his disinterest. "I am told," the imp mused slowly, "that someone has been up to no good. No guesses who, hmm?"

"Ty." Aëghan tilted his chin at the odious little thing, wondering when was the last time it bathed. Not in the immediate past, or near future, if one believed the odour that was seeping from the brown fur covering it's rotund body. No doubt one of the beastkeepers had seen fit to utilize the unique abilities of their little harbinger of filth and unwelcome threats the moment of Lillian's 'abduction', as they were often wont to do when in need to converse between each other and, sometimes, Aëghan as well.

"It's the duchess, isn't it?" Ty swivelled his gaze to her, a wicked smile pulling the corners of his lips wide to reveal rows of rotten teeth. He hopped towards her, waggling a finger gleefully. "Naughty, naughty duchess!"

Aëghan bristled, stirring at the male encroaching upon what the dragon perceived as his, and Lillian redirected her dagger. Her arm stiffened again, this time the wicked tip of the weapon aimed down and halted the imp mere millimetres from his noise. "Touch me," Lillian said in a deadly voice, "and die."

Unperturbed, Ty glanced over his shoulder at Aëghan. "A dragon needs his flame," he said, waggling his thick brows.

Dryly, with his brows raised, Aëghan drawled, "You've been sent by them, so spit it out."

"Ah, well, you're no fun today," the imp lamented in a woeful tone. "Normally there are more amusing distractions about." He glanced around pointedly at the courtyard, his beady gaze lingering over the flowery robe belted loosely closed about Aëghan's waist and the demolished urns sprinkled hazardously across the stones.

"There are more immediate concerns presently." Aëghan studied Lillian carefully, but her attention was riveted upon the imp between them, her dagger tip trembling as she endeavoured to hold it stable before her. "I am sure the threat you have been issued to pass on to me is most titillating, however I'll save you the trouble. You may relay to your masters that the Ravensfield heir is fine and whole, and will remain so for the next sennight at least until I see fit to return my captive-"

"No."

Both Aëghan and the imp turned to look at Lillian, the soft quality of her voice touched with an irrefutable firmness that served to be most arresting from the woman who was but moments before in the blinding throes of a furious tantrum. Now, however, she was curiously implacable and calm, the rage in her eyes having simmered down to something more astute and contemplative.

To Aëghan, her resounding composure and quiet strength were extraordinarily compelling and it vexed him no end that he found her so, that he could hardly pull his gaze away from her right then, even if he wanted to. She was unequivocally different to the women that normally frequented his bed or company. The females he associated with embraced their uninhibited qualities whereas Lillian kept her words and her motives closely shielded from those around her- guarded, yet unquestionably mesmerizing with her allure.

There was a draw, he realised, and a challenge- he wanted to know everything that Lillian Adams was keeping close shielded, her intriguing cards so very close to her chest; he yearned for the knowledge of her most intimate secrets and it was not, unfortunately for Aëghan's prerogatives, self-motivated.

"See now," Ty interrupted the stunned silence gleefully, "the girly wishes to return with me. Here now, dragon, your charms must be wearing thin. I'll take over-"

"I wish to remain," Lillian interrupted coolly, and at last she seemed to come to terms with her resolution and the hand clutching the dagger lowered to hang loosely at her side. Her shoulders lifted and fell with a deep, stabilising breath and those glorious eyes lifted, her chin tipping upward, and levelled a remarkably unwaverable look at Aëghan. "With him."

"You say that now, but can he do this?" Ty attempted to contort his lower abdomen in some ridiculous position meant to appeal to one's baser desires, but he was ignored by Aëghan and Lillian entirely.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke a word as their gazes held, the invisible tether that bound them together stretching taut. She wasn't more than a few feet away from him but her presence infused the air between them and his skin stirred for her nearness, his body tensing with awareness of her acutely, ever present lately but right then it was profoundly poignant.

No female had affected him like this before, simply with a look or a slow, conscious blink that brushed her dark lashes against the cusp of her piqued cheeks...

Gods help him.

"With me," he reiterated while the imp fell on its backside at his feet.

"With you." Lillian nodded, once and firmly. "Not as... your captive. As your guest." She paused then, her eyes flicking to the imp sprawled across Aëghan's toes. To Ty, she addressed her next words and whatever trance had settled over Aëghan suddenly evaporated and his chest eased with a deep inhalation. "I suppose your abilities have been utilized to send messages between myself and my sister," she told the imp softly. "In your world, your kind did not serve the needs of others, but it is a useful service nonetheless, therefore I thank you."

Ty stopped squirming suddenly, his hind leg suspended in a ridiculous fashion above his tufted ear. His head jerked up at Lillian's words and a lascivious grin parted his dark lips. "If you're truly grateful, my deary, you'll-"

"Watch the words that come out of your mouth next, imp," Aëghan hissed, "lest they be your last."

Ty's gaze cut to Aëghan and the grin faltered. "Uh... your esteem is sufficient thanks," the imp mumbled.

"Wise of you."

He thought he spied Lillian's lips twitch with a smile but if it was there she hid it well enough. "Please relay to my sister that... I am fine, and unharmed, and I remain with Aëghan on my own terms." Her jaw hardened and her eyes darkened. "You must insist on this- I am no captive. I... I simply need a respite." She sighed then and sheathed her dagger at her hip, her arms folding across her waist tightly. The fur-lined hood of her dark cloak nestled against her neck and cheek, the wind that stirred the debris littering the courtyard toying with the tendrils of her long hair as it draped over her form, over the light-coloured scarf knotted at her-

That was his scarf... the little minx.

He endeavoured to quell the absurd pleasure that rose up within him at the sight of Lillian in something that belonged to him, in something that was suffused with his scent now draped across her. He had no right harbouring such possessive thoughts and desires, for Lillian was not his, and she never would be. Even if he had acted rashly to remove her from the causes of her turmoil, there was always an ulterior motive for his actions.

He needed her- he needed her words and knowledge of all that he had lost, he needed the imprints and traces of magic that may yet still linger and clutch at her person, even if they were tenuously thin due to the time that had passed since her re-entry into this world.

"Not a captive," Ty repeated, straightening from his promiscuous position on the ground. "Noted."

"You may add that I will return soon," Lillian told him, her voice losing some of its edge. "And she is not to worry. I am gathering my thoughts."

"It may appear that you are losing them," the imp muttered dryly, sliding a shrewd look over at Aëghan.

"I believe that concludes the need for your presence," he quipped, narrowing his eyes at the short creature.

"Yes, of course." Ty rummaged through the dense, wiry fur blanketing his wide belly and procured an unidentifiable item that he pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Holding this out for Aëghan, he said, "I was told to leave a token should my services be required by her ladyship. Once it is broke, I shall be summoned."

Gingerly, Aëghan accepted the object, scrutinising it with a scowl. "What the devil is it?"

"A piece of dried cow shit."

He squeezed his eyes shut at that, his temper flaring abominably. The imp had little knowledge of how very close he was to a sure and painful demise, and if Aëghan wasn't aware of the value of the revolting token he now held at arm's length away from his person he'd be sorely tempted to feed it to the creature. "Leave," he snarled. "Be gone, you useless waste of flesh!"

The only tell of the imp disappearing was the shift of the air between him and Lillian, so subtle it was scarcely there. Yet when Aëghan opened his eyes again, he only beheld his smirking duchess. Her eyes were glinting with wry humour, the corners of her lips tilted ever so slightly. Even so, the change was startling in her.

Suddenly he was overcome to see her smile, to hear her laughter. If her aloof authority and coldness arrested him, her anger and fury enthralled him, then he supposed he would meet his fully sealed end witnessing her humour.

Again he attempted to squash those desires. It was pointless to harbour such things. The mark was to blame, the mark and the dragon. This infatuation with the woman would pass in time.

Surely.

A silence fell over them and Lillian's humour died slowly, and he bore witness to the visible tension seeping into her shoulders and stiffening her spine. She regarded him warily, guardedly once more, and when he did not fill the quiet that had infiltrated the courtyard, her delicately arched brows knitted together.

"Do not misconstrue my acquiescence of this foolhardy idea of yours," she said suddenly, her voice a soft husk of reprimand. "You are not endeared to me."

He could hardly help the grin that curled his lips. "Ah, fret not," he teased. "I hardly misconstrue anything." The sound of the wind rushed through their legs, the hem of the flimsy gown dancing about Aëghan's ankles and drawing her attention, her gaze trailing along the open expanse of his chest and down the length of his body. He stirred at her perusal, unable to prevent the hard knot of arousal that settled in the pit of his stomach and his body's noticeable reaction to it.

But it was also damn cold, something he needed to rectify and promptly, and his ardour was thankfully short lived when she snapped her gaze away from him, glaring profusely at something in the distance while spots of colour appeared on her cheeks.

"You misconstrued the fact that perhaps conversing with me about your intentions to remove me from Ravensfield would have had a better outcome that worked in your favour," she said with quiet fierceness. Her arms unfolded and she dropped them to her sides, her fists clenched into hard balls. When she looked at him again, her countenance was shrouded with coldness and calculation, as if she were attempting to read all the parts of him that were hidden.

"I believe you informed me to stay away from you," he pointed out. Reasonably, he thought. "Let us not forget that your dearest sister issued an estate-wide ban on my ever coming in contact with you. Conversing with you, Lillian darling, wasn't the easiest transaction in England."

"Why?"

"I believe I just told you why-"

She shook her head, halting his words. "Why did Millie not wish for you to converse with me? Why did she restrict our interactions?"

He shrugged, deceptively nonchalant, and spun on his heel. Mindful of the shards of pottery scattered around them, he began to wind his way towards the arched entrance of the ruins. "Perhaps she believes me to be a threat." Sensing Lillian following him, even though her footfalls were so quiet even his attuned hearing couldn't pick them up, he threw her a wolfish grin over his shoulder. "I did abduct her, you know. Maybe you are not safe with a dragon. Terribly impulsive creatures."

"Am I? Not safe with you?"

"Such serious questions." Entering through the archway, he paused to illuminate the hallway with light from the intricate sconces that lined either side of the walls. His gaze connected with Enorae whose expression was brimming with unspoken questions and demands for an explanation, one that he would grant her as soon as he was able.

"My questions are reasonable considering our unique circumstances," she told her pertly.

"You chose to stay, Lillian." He halted on the soft rich threads of the carpet that was sprawled before the spiral staircase where the Dravolese female awaited them. "Perhaps you know the answer to your own question." Turning to her, he tilted his head to the side and waited expectantly.

She stood close, her eyes switching from the female standing silent sentinel behind him to his face. How wondrously composed Lillian Adams could appear even in the most tenuous of circumstances. And how he longed to strip away at her composure piece by piece and revel in the puzzle that she would reveal.

For he suspected that under her facade was a wildly compelling and sensual woman. She only needed to let her guard down, to allow herself to feel-

He mentally shook himself. It wasn't going to be his place to scale those walls to discover what was on the other side.

But Lillian chose not to respond to his jibe, her eyes settling on him with unwavering boldness. If Aëghan did not know any better he would have labelled her as shy and withdrawn, but he knew that wasn't the case. Lillian Adams used her silence as part of her tactical arsenal as well as her carefully chosen words.

"You are our guest and this will be your home for as long as you desire it," Aëghan told her when it became evident she would not speak. He made a brief gesture to Enorae, who inclined her head towards Lillian as an amiable smile graced her elegant countenance. "This is Enorae. She will show you to your chambers and assist you with anything you may need."

After a moment, Lillian nodded. "Thank you."

It took all that was in him to compel himself to take his leave of her company when all he wanted was to linger and while away hours with her yet. But Aëghan knew that he could not. There was no further reason for him to linger in any event. Lillian did not trust him enough to divulge more of her experience in his realm. That would come in time- he only prayed it wasn't too late.

No, it was best to place distance between them, especially with the presence of the marks pulling them together like magnets.

"Should you need anything further, let me know," he told her, and then began to ascend the staircase where his own chambers were located... close to her own, thanks to the machinations of the dragon.

But Lillian didn't respond- not to him, anyway. The melodious notes of her voice met him when he was at the top of the stairs, soft and tantalising and filling him with longing despite the topic she addressed with Enorae.

"Was he wearing a woman's negligee?"