As long as he accepted the fact that she was occasionally going to rescue him as well. The man was utterly hopeless. But he was alive. And he was hers.
She felt him Change, felt the fur become warm flesh and a pair of strong arms wrap around her. Rowan wanted to tell him not to, that it was too dangerous, but the ability to speak seemed to have gone entirely by the wayside. Anger had become easier for her than joy over the past year, but there was nothing to work up even the slightest bit of ire where he was concerned. All that mattered was that Gabriel was alive, and that he had come for her.
"We have to go," he said, the rumble of his deep brogue like chocolate for her ears.
"That would mean letting go of you," Rowan said breathlessly, covering his face, his mouth, in thousands of tiny kisses. "Not interested."
He drew back to look at her, cupping her face in his hands. He looked tired, she saw, and unshaven, and generally distressed. He also looked like he wanted to hold her as tightly as he could for as long as he could. She wanted, with every fiber of her being, to allow just that.
But not now. There were voices down the corridor, drifting from far off but getting closer. And one of them was Lucien's.
"I'm going to Change back now, love. We're not far from one of the passages your ancestors used to get in when they were carrying on with the dragons. Stay close."
Rowan nodded, suddenly so anxious to be gone from this place that she felt a little ill. She almost forgot about the Wolf huddled against the wall, watching the two of them intently.
"Wait!" she breathed, making Gabriel turn back to look at her, concerned.
"What is it? What's wrong, love?"
"What about your cousin?" she asked, gesturing to Malachi. When Gabriel's brows drew together, she continued, "I know he's done horrible things. But he'd die here. He's nothing more than a slave. Look at his fur, Gabriel ... they've been burning him."
She could see that she had a great deal more sympathy for Malachi than Gabriel did, and probably for good reason. But Gabriel appeared to at least he thinking about it.
Finally he grumbled, "I'm not forgiving you, Malachi I don't know that I ever will. You knew what you were doing. But as little as I like it, you're still family, though my father will have the final say on that. You deserve bad, but not this. Come on. Come with us and let's get out of here."
Malachi made a sound, some strange and unhappy sound, and lifted one paw to swipe at the stone that glimmered at his throat. Then he backed slowly away, looking unspeakably miserable. Rowan sighed, finally understanding.
"He can't come. Not while Mordred is alive. That stone around Malachi's neck is as good as chains, binding him to his master's will. It'll show Mordred where we are if he should decide to ask. He has to stay here until Mordred is no more." She shook her head sadly. "There's no other way. Malachi can no longer Change to a man, and he can't remove the collar. His best bet is to wait. Then he can come to us."
"Brilliant," Gabriel said flatly. "Sorry, cousin. Looks like it's a little more fun with the fire breathers until we get this sorted out."
Malachi's glare was unmistakable when he looked at Gabriel, but his expression when he turned to Rowan was decidedly softer, more questioning. Pleading. She nodded.
"We'll come back for you," she said. And with that, Malachi shrank back into the shadows and disappeared, Gabriel sighed.
"We've just made a lot of people very unhappy. He would have killed my father, Rowan. It's not as though he doesn't deserve what he's gotten."
She just shook her head. "It's not right, Gabriel. Mordred Andrakkar has caused enough pain."
Rowan gave a soft gasp as Gabriel grabbed her and planted a hard kiss on her mouth. "Damned right," he said gruffly. "Now let's get the hell out of here."
In seconds, man had become beast once more, taking off down the empty corridor with a swiftness that had Rowan racing to keep up. Lucien's voice still echoed from somewhere behind them, and she waited with dread for the moment her absence was discovered. All she could hear as they ran was her own thundering heartbeat and labored breathing, while she expected to hear the angry shouts and the pounding of feet in pursuit at any second. But there was nothing but the sounds of their own escape. Not that she would feel better until they were out, and gone.
Sheer luck, she decided, that she had been installed in a part of the mountain castle that looked to be little used, probably in case she decided to be difficult. The ornate rugs covering the stone floors of these hallways were threadbare and dusty, and no tapestries covered the craggy walls. Rowan knew without a doubt that Gabriel would have found a way no matter what, but as he slipped behind a stone jutting from the wall at a strange angle to duck into a narrow, cobwebby passage, she thought that Morgaine might be looking after her daughter after all.
Rowan had to crouch a little as she moved along the dark, downward-slanting passage, but other than that movement was easy. It was odd to think that once her people had traveled this way full of an entirely different kind of anticipation. Maybe the dragons had been different then. Or maybe it had been the Dyadd. Either way, those days were long gone.
Down they raced, ever downward, until Rowan began to wonder if they had made some mistake and were now headed for the center of the world. There-was no light, only the insistent padding of Gabriel's feet in front of her. And still there was only silence from the mountain. After what felt like hours had passed, Rowan started to believe they might just make it out unnoticed.
Their luck held until just before they emerged through a slice of pale light into the young evening. Rowan had just caught sight of the large, red moon hanging low in the sky, had just taken her first breath of pure mountain in, when a furious roar barreled up through the bowels of the mountain to shake the ground beneath their feet.
"Shit," she hissed as dust rained from the ceiling, and prayed for speed. They were going to need it.
The two of them burst through a small arched opening at the base of the mountain and made a beeline for the distant haze of blue that Rowan knew must be the portal to carry them home. She picked up her skirts, wishing desperately for her jeans and a pair of sneakers instead of a heavy gown, and ran. Gabriel loped alongside her now, urging her on with his continuous glances behind them and upward, at the flat, massive shelf of rock and enormous doors near the top that marked the formal entrance to the castle. They were still shut, but not, she feared, for long. Soon the air would be full of great leathery wings. And in the night their eyes would look like violet fire.
She remembered. And as she did, the past began to blend with the present, opening around her like some dark and malignant bloom.
Ama Dyana, help me ... they're coming for us all...
They reached the true base of the mountain and sprinted across the valley floor, kicking up clouds of gray Mind in their haste. She could hear the rapid in and out of Gabriel's breath beside her, matching her own. Rowan clung to that, and to the rapidly approaching light.
So close ... almost there ...
There was a terrible metallic squeal, then a long and drawn-out groan as the doors of the mountain began to swing outward behind them. The sound underlying that, however, was so much worse. It was the sound of dragons, hissing, snarling, thirsty for blood and ready to take flight. And she and Gabriel had no cover. Not making it was not an option.
She'd be damned if they would catch her now.
Rowan focused intently on that point in the distance the ire of the dragons fading into background noise. Bursts of coolness spread over her skin, and she felt herself lengthening, stretching forward. Her feet were lighter, catching more and more air beneath them as she ran. And suddenly, strangely, she felt something within her begin to change. She didn't have time to breathe and consider what it was, but it felt as though the varied loose and hanging threads of her past chose just that moment to wind together and tie themselves up.
The air above them was suddenly filled with noise and movement, the heavy whoosh whoosh of massive wings pressing in on them from all around. And though she was terrified, something deep within her responded to that rhythm with wild joy. She began to pick up speed, something electric rippling through her as though there were thousands of tiny wires beneath her skin newly awakened to life. The circle of stones was just ahead, and through the bright blaze of blue she could see the place she had thought she might never see again—home.
An ear-splitting shriek sliced through the evening like a dagger, so close it was painful. Rowan didn't have to turn to know she would find a dragon as black as midnight in hot pursuit, almost close enough to touch.
Almost there... If only I could fly, I might just make it...
The truth slammed into her all at once. The threads pulled tight. Everything she had ever questioned suddenly made sense. The ramifications were staggering, but there was no time to think it through right now. Only one thing mattered right now: if she didn't just go with it, she wasn't going to make it. Lucien was almost on top of her. She had no choice.
Goddess, give me strength.
With an ease that shocked her, Rowan gave herself over completely to her body's instincts, concentrating only on the steady beat of dragon wings, and on her destination. Something she had never known reared its head inside, demanding to be set free. There was a searing flash of pain down her back as she leaped alongside her mate into the light, her wings bursting from her back and unfurling to catch the air. Fear gave way to an unexpected, brilliant burst of exhilaration, and for the first time in her life, Rowan knew what it was to soar.
Then the light was gone, and the dragons' roars abruptly gave way to the gentle whispers of the trees overhead, familiar arms reached out for her, and cries of delight fell from lips she thought had fallen silent forever.
She was home.
Gabriel stared as Rowan was enveloped in a laughing, squealing, crying crowd of women, none of whom seemed to be the least bit perturbed by the iridescent green wings that were already retracting, seeming to melt back into her gown without the slightest disturbance to the fabric.
