The younger cop laughed under his breath. “Some party,” he murmured.
“So, there was this party,” the older officer echoed, inviting Thorolf to continue, and he dared to hope that he had a chance of pulling this off.
Hadrian burst through the earth under a million stars in a midnight sky. It was so cold and clear that the wind nearly stole Hadrian’s breath away. He soared high into the sky, Rania safely in his grasp, and only belatedly realized where they were.
“Callanish,” he murmured, then flew low over the standing stones. He circled them, eyed the gaping maw in the earth in the middle of the circle where they had erupted, then pivoted and flew high again. The sky was alight with shimmers of lime green as the northern lights wavered and flowed, seemingly so close that he could touch them yet also far away.
“My brothers,” Rania whispered in anguish and Hadrian realized they were completely alone. The sky was empty in all directions and the ground was still beneath them. He flew over the spot repeatedly and would have gone back into the earth, but Rania shook her head.
“And the Pyr, too. The Others from Bones. I hope everyone got out okay.”
“Me, too. Let’s go home and check on them.”
“Back to my smithy?”
Rania smiled, her fair hair flowing over her shoulders. “No. That way.” She pointed west. “My home.” Her smile broadened. “I’m wondering.”
Hadrian chuckled and turned in a broad circle, taking his directions from his mate. He flew low over the north Atlantic, enjoying their time together and his sense of triumph. He was surprised when she directed him toward Iceland, then realized her choice was perfectly right.
Her home was even more right. It was an ancient cottage, built of stone and settled low against the earth. There was sod growing on the roof so it was hard to discern from above, and she said it was half-buried in the earth. It was the stone circle surrounding it that he spotted first, its shape distinctive even beneath a layer of snow.
The inner circle was a good sixty feet across, and the ring of stone that surrounded it was eight feet wide and eight feet tall. It was all fitted stone and resonant with the songs of the earth. Hadrian felt immediately at home. There was one break in the barrier, and that opening aligned with the cottage set right in the middle of the inner circle. He could see the ocean crashing against the rocky shore in one direction, icebergs in the sea far beyond it, and a wisp of smoke rising from a volcano in the other direction.
“Fire and ice,” he said to Rania as he set her down and she laughed.
“Just like you.” She stepped back and watched as he shifted shape, exhaling with relief when he was in his human form again. Rania cast her arms around his neck and kissed him, then tugged him into her home.
“Someone’s here,” she said softly on the threshold.
Hadrian found himself shimmering on the cusp of change before he realized the visitor might be the result of her wondering.
The man stood in front of her knife collection again, his back to her, his hair a long braid down his back. It was exactly like the last time, his posture identical, the door left open the same increment—but this time, Hadrian was with her.
Rania felt as if she had a second chance to get it right.
“Father?” she said and he glanced over his shoulder, a smile in his eyes.
“Daughter,” he replied, surveying her.
“A second chance?” she asked and he almost smiled.
“You wondered. That was all it took.” His gaze flicked past her and she knew he was studying Hadrian. She knew the moment he spotted his own ring. “You didn’t lose it then,” he said softly.
“My mate had it,” she replied. “It was safe.”
Her father pivoted then and offered his hand to Hadrian. “I am Ulrik.”
“Hadrian MacEwan.”
She watched her father inhale. “More than a man?”
“I am Pyr, a dragon shifter.”
Her father raised a brow, then indicated the ring. “The stone tells me all I need to know.”
“Not everything, Father,” Rania said. “Maeve is defeated and the realm of Fae no more.”
“I knew this.” He nodded. “I felt it.”
“I spoke to your mate in the realm of the dead,” Hadrian said and Rania watched her father assess him again.
“There is more to you than meets the eye, dragon.”
“She misses you.”
Ulrik nodded and dropped his gaze. “I miss her, too.”
There was such a wealth of love and longing in his voice that Rania’s throat tightened.
“She asked me to tell you to dream of her, if I ever met you. She said you can meet in that realm again.”
Rania watched her father’s eyes light then well with tears. He frowned and nodded, and when he spoke, his voice was gruff. “I thank you for this.”
She put her hand in Hadrian’s. “We’re going to have a son, Father. I hope you will teach him the stories of our kind.”
Ulrik smiled fully then for the first time. “A child!” he said softly, his eyes lighting. “Oh yes, daughter mine, I would like very much to have a family again.” He opened his arms to her then and she stepped into his embrace, hugging him tightly as her tears rose. She had a family again, thanks to Hadrian. Not just a son on the way, but twelve brothers and a lost father returned to her. From a life of solitude, Rania was surrounded by love—and the greatest love of all was that of her dragon shifter.
“I don’t understand,” Lynsay said to Abigail. “How can the swan be gone?”
They were standing by the pond at the big house, its turrets and gables towering over them. The older woman shook her head. “There’s no saying with wild things, dear. It was healed so it went home. It wasn’t banded so it was wild.” Her voice softened. “We had no right to keep it captive, dear.”
“No, but...”
Abigail patted Lynsay’s arm. “You did a good thing, dear, and you made a difference. You’ll have to imagine it safely on its way and be content with that.”
Lynsay wasn’t content with that. She felt cheated, again, denied something important to her. She just wanted to see the swan healed. She just wanted to know that it was okay, to see as much with her own eyes, but Abigail said she hadn’t seen it since the previous day.
Another chance for something had slipped through Lynsay’s fingers.
She trudged back to the pub, disgruntled and wishing for a change. She didn’t even know what she wanted. Great sex? True love? A sense of purpose? A partner? All of the above and more—but that seemed greedy. She knew she was lucky. She owned her own business and her home. She had financial security and good friends. She was healthy and pretty much happy.
If alone.
There was a guy standing outside the pub when the familiar structure came into view.
“We don’t open until noon,” Lynsay told him, intending to walk right past him. She lived in the small house attached to the pub. It was newer, but still a hundred years old.
He turned and smiled at her, the sight stopping Lynsay in her tracks. Had she ever seen such a great looking guy? His hair was dark and wavy, his eyes were piercing blue. His smile was so radiant that she felt as if she was standing in the sun. He was taller than her and broad-shouldered, if dressed in clothes that seemed a bit shabby and old-fashioned. Simple. He’d look amazing in a suit. She took a good look, figuring it couldn’t hurt, not caring if he was offended.