throne.”
“’Tis not my war, Avery.”
She backed up a step. “You don’t plan to help them at all, do you? You’ll meet with them because you owe them that much for sending me, but you have no intention of helping them oust Eleanor.”
He stared at the fire. “My people are here.”
“But what about… your family?” She’d almost said, what about me? But that would be silly. None of this was about her.
“I wish them the best of luck if they think Paragon is worth saving,” he said coolly.
Avery suddenly felt a little nauseated. She nodded slowly, then set her cup down. “I think I’ve had too much whisky.” She stood and moved toward her room. “Good night, Xavier.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Xavier slept fitfully that night. It was clear Avery did not approve of his ambivalence about Paragon. It was possible he’d misled her, although that hadn’t been his intention. Had she assumed he’d run headfirst into a war for Gabriel’s benefit? Of course she had; her sister was his brother’s mate. Which gave Xavier another reason to deny his dragon’s desire to bond with Avery. He had to stay strong while she was here. She’d be back in her world soon enough, and the temptation would be gone.
He was relieved when the sun rose. Unfortunately, any plans he had to advance his cause against Lachlan ended with a clap of thunder and the sound of rain against the roof.
Avery wandered from her room, rubbing her eyes. “Why didn’t anyone tell me Scottish whisky was the devil?”
He grinned. “Weel, they say the devil was once an angel. Ye’ve had yerself a slice of heaven.”
She laughed, then winced as if the sound hurt her head. Lowering herself into a chair at the table, she poured herself a cup of tea. Thanks to the brownie’s magic, breakfast was already there on a tray beside the sword.
When her eyes refused to meet his, he wondered if he’d have to address the kiss and their conversation the night before. There was so much unsaid between them. So much at risk if they gave in to the attraction that even now prompted him to move closer to her.
“I thought you’d be scoping out the castle today, planning your attack.” Avery’s comment sliced through the thick silence, and relief washed over him.
“Canna in the rain. ’Tis a shortcoming of invisibility.”
“Oh?”
He blinked out of sight, then opened the door and stepped out into the drizzle. She watched as the water made his form glisten.
“Weird. You’re like a reflective ghost.”
“Aye.”
He stepped up on the porch and shook the rain from his shoulders. She smiled at him from the door, and the temptation to kiss her again was almost more than he could bear.
He lowered his gaze and took a step back. “I should tend to the cow. The brownie will want his breakfast.”
He was halfway to the barn when he realized she was behind him.
“Aren’t ye hungry?” he asked her. “Ye can stay if ye like. Out of the rain.” He eyed the stormy sky warily.
“I want to help you milk the cow.” She hastened and ducked into the barn, which was when he noticed she’d taken Fairy Killer from the table and was wearing it on her back.
“Am I ever goin’ ta pry that sword out of yer hands?”
“No. I’m going to start sleeping with it.”
“Lucky sword.” He gave her a roguish grin and was rewarded with a slight blush of her cheek. He wasn’t sure why Avery was drawn to the sword as she was, but until he needed it, he’d let her have her way. It seemed to make her happy. “I’ll eventually need it to slay Lachlan, ye ken.”
She shook her head. “I like it too much. You’ll just have to swing me at him while I hold the sword.” Her eyes twinkled in the dark stable.
“Now ye sound even more like a curaidh.”
“I’m not sure I’d call myself a warrior. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to let the one weapon that can kill Lachlan out of our sight.”
Now that she put it that way, he agreed with the wisdom of it. He told her so as he passed her to get to Tàirn’s stall and scoop a heap of oats into his trough.
“Why do you call him Tàirn? Doesn’t that mean nail in Gaelic? Odd name for a horse.”
“Aye, but he is a nail. He’s the color of one, as black as wrought iron, but he also performs like one. Cuts right through the