Shoulder the Skye (Skye Druids #2)(19)
Author: Donna Grant

 

He discovered another set of stairs that led to the third floor, with more closed doors. One person didn’t need all those rooms. It made sense that Bronwyn would keep them closed. But to sleep in the parlor when there were plenty of more comfortable options? He didn’t understand that.

 

Elias made his way back down the stairs, pausing at the last step and the newel that held the remnants of her blood from last night. Mies might become droughs for the extra power it gave them, but it took a brave—or reckless—few to delve into blood magic. When mastered, it was potent and violent. A Druid could rarely control it for any length of time since the end result was never kind. It was why so few ever attempted it.

 

Yet Bronwyn had.

 

“Why blood magic on the house but nothing to defend yourself?” he murmured, his confusion about her growing.

 

Could her use of blood magic have drawn the mist? Perhaps she had inadvertently called it up. One thing was for certain—he had to find the answer. Lives depended on it. The Druids who dared blood magic never came back from it. He didn’t know how long Bronwyn had left, which meant he would need to work quickly to uncover everything he could.

 

He turned away from the stained newel and retraced his steps to the kitchen. As water heated for tea, he rummaged through the cupboards and found a tray. There, he set out a plate, jam, utensils, a glass of water, and two cups. Once the water boiled, he steeped the tea. That was when he saw the honey. He added that and the small carton of milk to the tray. When the tea had brewed, he carried the tray into the parlor.

 

It made him think of the times his mother had done the same for him when he’d been sick as a child. It might have taken years, but his family was getting sorted again. If nothing else, he was pleased about that. They could carry on with their lives as they always should have. As for him? He wasn’t throwing in the towel quite yet. He’d been fighting for others for far too long not to do the same for himself.

 

Elias set the tray on a small table. When he turned to the sofa bed, he found hazel eyes watching him. The green was so pale there was almost no color. The gold and copper stood out the most in the morning light. Once more, he was transfixed.

 

Utterly spellbound.

 

In a blink, he was transported back to a long-ago day when a young lass with a thick braid down to her waist had tripped and fallen. He’d walked away from his friends to help her. Bronwyn had stared at him then as she did now—curiously and with a hint of trepidation.

 

How had he forgotten that moment?

 

Or her?

 

But just days after that, his life had imploded violently. He’d barely held it together. His every thought had centered around his mum, sisters, and himself. Everything else had been pushed aside and forgotten.

 

Until he’d come home to Skye and found himself looking into those beautiful eyes once more.

 

Elias didn’t believe in coincidences. There was a reason their paths had crossed again.

 

He could stare at her forever, lost in the ocean of colors in hazel depths that captured him effortlessly. They were strangers, yet they weren’t. She had nearly died last night, and that thought saddened and angered him. It also brought him back to the present.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

 

“Like shite,” she murmured and swallowed.

 

Her gaze lowered, remaining there for a moment. Elias remembered that his shirt was still drying. He shook himself when he saw her lick her lips. He brought her water and helped her to sit up so she could drink a little. “I have aspirin if you have need of it. I imagine you’ve a whopper of a headache.”

 

“Aye,” she said after drinking her fill. She sank against the pillows, her expression pained.

 

After he’d brought the pills and helped her sit a second time, he stepped back. “There’s tea and toast if you’re up for it.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

He shouldn’t be hurt that she didn’t remember him. He had forgotten her, after all. But he remembered everything now. “I’m Elias MacLean.”

 

Even after he’d announced his name, she didn’t show any indication that she remembered. For some reason, that bothered him.

 

She lifted the covers and looked down at herself. “You undressed me?”

 

“You were soaked through. You needed to get warm, and you couldna do that wet. No’ to mention I needed to tend to your injuries.”

 

“Right.” Another swallow and a flash of unease. “I’m Bronwyn.”

 

He held her gaze and smiled. “It’s been quite a few years since I’ve been on Skye, but I know you. I confess, I didna recognize you at first. Your hair was much longer the last time I saw you.”

 

She looked away nervously. “Now I know why you looked familiar. You seem to have a habit of helping people.”

 

“You could say that.”

 

They fell into an awkward silence. Elias grabbed the tray. When he turned back to her, she had pushed herself into a better sitting position, keeping the blanket tucked beneath her arms. He set the tray across her lap and took a cup of tea.

 

“Thank you,” she said. “For, well, everything.”

 

He sank into the chair. “I’m glad I was here to lend a hand.”

 

Silence grew when she focused on the tray, adjusting everything nervously. He watched as she filled a teaspoon with honey before tipping it so the thick sweetener dribbled slowly into the liquid. Elias grinned when he realized she was making designs with the honey. She only stirred the tea when there was nothing left on the spoon.

 

“I suppose you want to know who those people were,” she said without looking at him.

 

Elias tipped his head. “I would, aye.”

 

Her gaze snapped to his, the look in her eyes stern and unyielding. “I’d also like to know what you were doing on my estate.”

 

He fought back a smile at her courage. “Fair enough. I saw the man confront you the other day. Things looked…strained.”

 

“And you took it upon yourself to spy on me? Or maybe you work with him, and by helping me, you knew it would get you inside.” Her anger grew with every word.

 

Elias stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles. Then he took a drink of his tea, all without looking away from her as he decided how to answer her and defuse the indignation she had every right to feel. “If I were with those people, which I’m no’, then the latter would be true. I was watching the manor, but no’ on anyone’s orders. I was here on my own.”