Fire Maidens Scotland (Billionaires & Bodyguards #6) - Anna Lowe Page 0,77
of what exactly had happened could wait for the following day. But Duncan would survive, as would the other injured shifters from their company. Enzo was dead, his forces defeated, and…
Lachlan drooped a little. Bloody hell, was he tired.
Holly huddled beside him, and they both shifted into human form. “What was that all about? That crazy thug thought I was Gemma.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Enzo kept pointing his mercenaries after me, saying, ‘Get the Fire Maiden.’ It was the weirdest thing.”
Lachlan opened his mouth, then closed it. She’d had enough revelations for one night. Did she really want another?
Moonlight glinted in her hair, and he recalled the sight of her in dragon form. In faint light, her hide was a dark, chocolatey brown. But when the clouds parted, the moonlight brought out a golden-red hue, like that of her hair. He’d only seen her in dragon form a few times, and that detail only really registered now. Auburn was a variation of gold, and gold was a sign of royal lineage.
“Holly,” he started gently. “Trevor is your grandfather.”
She gulped. “Right. The letter. I still don’t get it. Because what if—”
He shushed her gently before she broke into a nervous babble.
“Trevor Stuart, of the Stuart clan — the last dragons in Scotland who can trace their heritage directly to the great Queen Liviana.”
Holly nodded, not making the connection.
He took hold of her shoulders. “That makes you a Fire Maiden, Holly. The one the Guardians of Scotland had all but given up hope for.”
It made perfect sense — the way Trevor had kept her true identity a secret. Her fierce fighting skills. Her devotion to improving the lives of others.
She stared, then started slipping sideways.
“Whoops. Hang on there.” He steadied her.
“I’m a Fire Maiden?”
He nodded, letting her process it.
“Really?”
He grinned at the squeak in her voice. “Truly.”
She frowned. “Wait. How would Enzo know?”
That, he hadn’t puzzled out yet.
“Oh. But then…then…” She gripped his arm, thinking. Then her eyes lit up with some new revelation, and he fully expected her to blurt something like, Oh my God! That means I inherit Creag Aerden!
If she had, he would have laughed. Creag Aerden and a hell of a lot of other property, including ninety-five percent of the island.
But when Holly finally found her voice, she yelped something totally different.
“Oh my gosh. Mungo.” She jumped to her feet. “Mungo?” She yelled, then did a quick shift back into dragon form and took to the air, calling, “Mungo? Mungo!”
Lachlan stared. She’d just fought the battle of a lifetime and discovered she was a Fire Maiden. Any other person would have keeled over in exhaustion or run around screaming, I’m rich! But Holly? All she cared about was her dog. Which, he supposed, made her perfect for the job of Fire Maiden.
“Everything all right?” Henry asked, alarmed.
“Mungo!” Holly called in relief, fluttering to the ground halfway up the slope.
Lachlan grinned, slowly scanning the scene. A mortal enemy had been conquered. Peace had been restored. The future had been secured, not just for him and his mate, but for Scotland.
He heaved a sigh that was two-thirds joy and one-third weariness, then took off after Holly. “Everything is perfect,” he called back to Henry. “Everything is perfect.”
Chapter Twenty
Holly woke slowly, fluttering her eyelids, then closing them again. Morning — already?
Apparently so, because sunshine was streaming through the skylight, so bright, she could sense it even with her eyes shut.
We can do lots of things without relying on our eyes, her dragon crooned. Evade the bad guys. Make love to our mate…
She tightened her hand around Lachlan’s and grinned. She might have peeked a few times the previous night, but who could blame her? She’d missed out on ten years of great sex. Now, she was playing catch-up.
Then she yawned, because, damn. It had been a hell of a long night. After the fight, she’d found Mungo — uninjured, thank goodness — and taken him and Trevor’s urn to the barracks. Even then, she and Lachlan couldn’t relax. There were wounds to tend to, an island to comb for wayward intruders, and finally, a debrief. What exactly had happened? Who had masterminded the escape? Was Enzo truly dead?
“He’s dead,” Henry had muttered grimly, giving his wrists a firm tug in that selkie gesture Holly was starting to recognize.
Luckily, reinforcements had arrived from the mainland, and they’d stood guard throughout the night. Holly and Lachlan spent the night in a private room at the barracks, just in case. Tired as they both were, they’d