To Eternity (15 page)

Chapter 20

Sian puffed out short breaths as they neared the summit of the mountain. Her waterproof gear rasped like crisp leaves as she walked. Though she'd thought the turf-covered slope gentle at first, as they headed up, more boulders of jagged-edged granite broke the green surface. The temperature plummeted as they neared the misty barrier to the summit. There wasn't anything gentle about this mountain after the foothills. Soon, they would truly be climbing.

Once they made it through the barrier of low cloud, she discovered a new world, one to make her mouth dry at its brutal majesty. Ice-filled small depressions amidst the rocks, and the little lichens looked as though they clung in terror to the rock face. The terrain below seemed balmy, easy walking in comparison to this rock-strewn incline they now faced. The way to the peak was near perpendicular in places. Magnus opened his pack. He took out the balaclavas they'd purchased and handed hers over.

“Don't worry. You have been stupendous so far. Put this on, you'll need it now, it's cold up here. We might even hit some snow. When you're ready, we can take the pace as slow as you wish. It's less than it looks, under two hundred feet.” He took a length of rope from his pack. It would join them together for the remainder of the climb.

She donned the head covering and tugged the front down to offer him as broad a smile as she could before she put her helmet back on. Once Magnus attached the rope to her harness with the metal karabiner, she gave it an experimental tug. He'd shown her how strong the link was after they bought the kit at the shop. The rope, slender as it seemed, would hold her bodyweight with ease.

Her face warmed under the fabric but her eyes stung with the chill. She shivered despite all the climbing gear. She turned her back to the wind while she waited for Magnus to finish with the rope. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was afraid.

“Ready?”

She nodded.

Half a dozen steps on, Magnus glanced back over his shoulder, pausing to wait for her.

A skitter of pebbles rolled beneath one foot when she placed it on a ledge. She stilled.

“Take it steady, no rush,” he called.

Their progress slowed as she deliberated the best spot for each of her steps. Soon she needed hand holds, too. Her focus centered on following his lead, on finding safe purchase for her hands and feet. Time seemed to stand still as their way forward grew more difficult. She called, “Magnus, I can't. Truly, I don't think I can do it.”

“One long pace and you're there. Take a good hold of my hand. I'll pull you up.”

She peered down into the froth of clouds below the rock face, blinking hard in the frigid air. Stones lay everywhere on this section above the pale mist. Steel gray and streaked with white, they offered no crumb of comfort. Lifting her chin, she looked up. His outstretched hand reached toward her from a swathe of icy blue sky. Taking a deep breath, she raised her gloved hand to his. “Okay, but I think you'd best pull me up. Please, don't let me go when I reach you.”

Seconds later, she stood wrapped in his embrace, her toes skimming the floor, her heart thundering as she pressed her chest against his. She opened her eyes enough to peek. “Oh, my God!”

“You're safe, quite safe. Nothing can happen. You can't fall.”

The warmth of his voice and gentle words helped calm her. She took another quick peek. “Oh, Magnus!”

“This is the summit we've climbed toward. Today, you are its queen.”

She clutched him tight. “I can't do the next bit.”

“You must. You have to do this part.”

She lifted her gaze as his fingers dug deep into her thick waterproof jacket. The far off peaks reflected in his gray eyes to taunt her. Somehow, she found movement enough to grasp the rope joining them.

“One stone from the cairn is all you need. Small or large, it matters not, but without it you will have to fight for a place that is rightfully yours.”

The words ground like minced gravel into the wind.

As she removed one glove, she fought off all thoughts but finishing this job. Despite the bitter chill, her fingertips would find a stone quicker without. “Let me go,” she whispered, shoving the glove into a pocket. “I can do this.”

The words belied the truth in so many ways. Her knees locked and her stomach rolled. Every limb stiffened as if she'd been carved from stone. A sour taste came to the back of her throat. If she opened her mouth now, she'd puke. Tears, dried fast by the wind, sprang again as Magnus removed the protection of his arms from around her torso.

“Quickly, Sian. Do it now!”

Her heart hammering, she lurched up from the ledge to grasp onto the last two foot of the mountain. She gripped hard, wrapping one arm around the wedge of stone, for she had to hang with her feet swinging above the small ledge where Magnus remained.

Nothing stood between her and eternity. She held tight with her one arm while she reached up with the other and scrabbled about with her ungloved hand. Despite the cold, she used her fingers to feel for a loose stone amid a tiny depression. The wind tugged at her, howling as though her presence desecrated this venerated place.

She sniffed in the tears she couldn't shed. The very second she thought she must be defeated by the mountain and her fears, a fat pebble lodged under her hand. Grasping it fast, she swallowed down her triumph. Even though she had the stone, the danger remained. If she fell, she might drag Magnus with her in a tumble down the cliff face. She still had to get to him safely. She drew in an unsteady breath. There could be no elation until she stood in his embrace again, with both feet planted on the rocks, safe from the wind whipping at her, sheltered from the bitter cold that numbed her fingers and robbed her of her senses. Most of all, she needed his warmth to soothe her. “I've got it.”

A second of adrenaline-filled terror as she let go and she slipped into his waiting arms. She clung fast to him until she could breathe easy again. She slid the stone into the smallest pocket of her jacket. Her movements jerky, almost uncontrolled, she tugged her thermal glove back on.

Somehow, she held it together until they descended the worst of the rocky climb and reached the grassy shelf beneath the clouds several hundred feet below the summit. Only there, did she sink to her knees. Tears rolled fast. Ignoring his reassurances, she sobbed, shoving the balaclava away from her mouth to ease her breathing. Finally, she calmed and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I'm sorry, but I've never been that afraid in my life.”

Magnus knelt to put his arms around her. “I know, and you have nothing to apologize for. You are victorious. I am so very proud of you.” He caressed her cheek.

Sian buried her head against his chest, dabbing off tears spilled on his quilted anorak. “Can we go down the mountain now?”

“Yes. You have what you need to claim your place.”

She glanced up as he helped her stand. “I want nothing but to be your mate, you know it.”

Magnus gave a slow nod. “Indeed, but now you have been tested by the mountain. You will be the alpha female of our pack for all time.”

“I wanted it so I can be with you,” she whispered.

“I know. When we get back to the cottage, give me the crystal.” He slipped his arm around her. “I'll take your stone to have it mounted in gold for you.”

“Gold?”

“Yes. Welsh gold. The last amulet made was my mothers, many generations ago. Now a new one is needed. The goldsmith will be as proud to make it as I am to have the ordering of it.”

She stuffed her hand into her pocket and drew out the round quartz pebble. Sparks of light bounced back to her from the veining in the smooth stone. “I'll never forget the day I found it.”

“I know, neither will I.” Magnus bent and covered her lips with his.

All other sensations diminished but for his arm around her, the taste of his mouth, the heat of his tongue twined with hers, and the growing understanding of what she'd achieved. Magnus drew her closer still, deep into his embrace, so the wind no longer buffeted against her. “I want to have all of you.”

She gazed up into the depths of his eyes.

“Soon.”

“I know. I'm ready. I'm not afraid, I swear it.”

Huddled next to him, she let go the pinnacle of Caer Howld and relaxed into his warmth. She clutched the pebble tight and allowed his body heat to seep into her chest before she relaxed enough to take his palm with hers and set the pebble in the hollow of his hand. His gray gaze locked on hers. Despite the climbing gear, the mist, and the plethora of her fears, the promise of his love filled her.

They took the first steps of their descent on the grassy slope beneath the rocky challenge, arms entwined as they headed farther down the hillside.

Each step on turf and stone brought the process of her change so much nearer in her thoughts.

The slope of the hillside decreased until, at the last, they danced their way down. They raced until, with a few feet or so of the descent left, he caught her to him. Her toes skimming the shale, slithering over the grass, she zigzagged with him as if they tangoed down the hill.

She screamed a victory yell as they reached the spongy turf of the valley floor. “Wonderful!”

“Yes, you are.”

The laugh on his face stilled her. For along with the pleasure, amusement, and relief, she found something else. The gleam of the hunter sparked in his glance. “Tonight, Magnus?”

“If I have half your courage, yes.”

“And if you don't?”

He smiled, pressed a kiss to her lips. “Then, you will sleep soundly until I do.”

* * * *

Back at the cottage, Magnus stowed their climbing gear away. Once she'd unlaced her boots and taken them off, she stripped off the jacket so she could hurry up the stairs to the bathroom. She turned on the taps to run a hot bath. Though they'd had the heater on in the car, she still shivered. The cold from the mountaintop seemed to have sunk into her bones. The November sun had tracked fast through the late afternoon as they drove back.

“I'll make some soup for you while you bathe,” he called up the stairs.

“I won't be too long, but I need to warm up.” She closed the door and stared at her reflection until she had to wipe away a mist of condensation. Though she'd told him she wasn't afraid, right now fear looked back from the mirror. Not merely the aftermath of the grueling climb they'd made, but fear of tonight.

More than anything she had ever wished for, she wanted him to do this. Her courage mustn't fail. She had to trust him, totally. If she didn't, then everything between them would be lessened to the mere span it took her to get old. She screwed her hands into tight fists. Her shoulders grew rigid.
I
love him.
I
know
he
loves
me.

“Then why am I so afraid?” she whispered. “He mustn't see how scared I feel.” She turned away from the mirror and peeled off the body warmer, followed by the Meco shirt she'd worn for their climb, tugged off the grubby trousers and thick socks.

In the hope to find calmness, she poured half a bottle of lavender-scented oil into the bath and swirled it around in the water. The fragrance wafted up in the steam. Once the bath filled, she stepped out of her underwear and down into the warm water. Wrapping her hair up in a towel to keep it from the oil, she sank beneath the water, rested her head on the back of the tub, and breathed deeply.

Ten minutes later, she decided lavender was overrated. Even though her muscles had eased physically, the tight coil inside her remained. The slightest slip of her concentration led her straight back to gut-churning fear.

The bath water had cooled. The last thing she wanted was to grow chilled. She eased up from the tub and stepped out onto the soft mat where she dried off with one of the warm towels from the heated rail. Certain her silky robe wouldn't be enough tonight, she donned Magnus's bathrobe instead. Each movement slow and deliberate, as though she forced her hands to work, she cleaned her face, then dabbed with a toner before she rubbed in moisturizer.

She took several deep breaths, gathered up her discarded clothes, and put them in the laundry hamper. She teased the wide toothed comb through the hank of curls she held and glanced again in the mirror.

The heat from the bath had given her some color. She shook her hair around her shoulders. Yes, she could just about pass for normal.

I'm
ready
for
whatever
comes.

She opened the bathroom door, fetched her slippers from the bedroom, and made her way down the stairs.

A steaming bowl of soup sat waiting for her on the dining table, a large glass of wine beside it along with a folded piece of paper. She picked up the note placed by her spoon.

Eat,
drink
the
wine,
and
go
to
bed.
I'll
be
back
shortly.
Don't
lock
the
door.

Her stomach rolled. Any vestige of hunger vanished. Had he gone to take the crystal this evening? When he came back, would he be Magnus or the wolf?

My
Magnus-wolf.

She sat, picked up the heavy-bottomed wineglass, and took a gulp. The wine hit her empty stomach with a kick. The smell of the soup, a hearty meat and vegetable broth, sparked her need for food. She ate a couple of spoonfuls, but after they stuck in her throat, she could manage no more. A pity to waste the meal, but she took the bowl back into the kitchen and tipped the contents away. The wine would do for now. She swallowed another gulp as she walked to the stairs. She'd take the glass of wine up to the bedroom and finish the last of it there.