GRAHAM COULD HAVE imagined a hundred different ways to wake up next to Christina after what they experienced but nothing like this. Not after finding each other like they did. After loving one another so well.

Now, far from the cot they had just enjoyed, they turned and stared at each other just like they had when they first met...in Conall and Lindsay's time flux, that is.

At Mystery Hill in the twenty-first century.

It seemed she was just as confused as he was when she shook her head, patted her body and said, “Am I real?” She cocked her head. “Are you?”

Graham did the same and nodded. “Aye, lass. We’re real.” He looked around, frowning. “This is real.”

Unlike the dream, however, they weren’t dressed.

“But...” Her voice trailed off as she narrowed her eyes and scanned the area. “Do you think there’s a warlock around here?”

“I dinnae know, lass.” Graham scanned the area as well before he spied two piles of clothes. One for him and one for her. “It looks like someone’s expecting us.”

Christina grimaced as he handed her clothes. “They expected us to arrive naked?”

“So it seems,” he said as he pulled on a tunic and wrapped the MacLomain plaid around his waist. “Friend not foe I’d say based on the clothing.”

“Someone who seems to prefer me in medieval pants,” she added as she pulled on her own clothes then eyed him with appreciation. “You look good in a skirt, darlin’.”

“’Tis a tartan,” he muttered but met her grin and winked. “I think you’ll appreciate its design.”

Taking his meaning, she kept smiling. “I bet I will.”

As they pulled on their boots, she considered the stone dwelling. “So why do you think we ended up here again?”

He had been feeling out the place with magic since they arrived and was surprised by what he discovered. “I think we’ve just been through the magical time flux Conall and Lindsay inadvertently created. Or should I say we’ve finally been released from it altogether. When we were, it put us back where we began.” He kept concentrating and scouted out the area. “I sense something else too, but I cannae quite figure out what it is. Can you?”

When Christina went very still, he knew she was utilizing her gift.

“I can,” she whispered. “Jessie was here...as was another.” She visibly shivered as her eyes went to his. “I didn’t sense him when we first arrived but definitely a warlock.” She shook her head. “But I think he’s long gone now.”

“Aye then,” he murmured, fully intending to remain vigilant regardless. “It seems, mayhap, our dream about Jessie and a warlock being here had some truth to it after all.”

She frowned. “So do you think us being here has more to do with Conall and Lindsay's magic or Jessie and the warlock's?”

“I dinnae know,” he replied. “Mayhap a bit of both.”

“Why here though?” she asked again. “This isn’t where we began. Technically, you and I met at the house.” She frowned as she wrapped a fur cloak around her shoulders. “In the flesh anyway.”

“Aye, in the flesh but this is where we first connected.” His eyes met hers. “So mayhap we’re back where we were meant to be all along, and you’re with the one you’re supposed to be with.”

A soft smile curled her lips. “I thought we’d already come to that conclusion.”

“Aye.” He gave her a look. “But as I recall, at one point in this verra dwelling you were of the mind that Robert the Bruce might be the one for you.”

“True.” She shook her head. “Hard to imagine now.”

He couldn’t agree more. But then he never imagined her with the Bruce. Or should he say he never wanted her to be with him.

“So assuming Conall and Lindsay’s magic was at play,” she said as he took her hand and they exited, “what do you think finally freed us from their time flux?”

“Likely lying together for the first time after igniting the ring’s magic,” he replied. “’Tis known to be a verra powerful coupling.”

“To say the least,” she murmured, renewed appreciation in her eyes as they met his. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

He couldn’t agree more, well aware of the difference in her this last time. She lacked the anxiety that had been present in their previous lovemaking. The fear that even though he seemed to keep up with her, she might just be too much for him.

“’Twas verra good, lass,” he said softly, reeling her closer before he tilted her chin and brushed his lips across hers. “’Twill always be like that. Ye dinnae need to fear anymore.”

“Always,” she whispered, considering that.

“Aye, always,” he murmured, ignoring a flash of fear that she might not want such a thing with him in the end. That she might decide to stay here.

Before she could respond, her attention was caught by something through the woods in the direction of the house.

“What is it, lass?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she whispered before she started walking. “Remember back when you first arrived and we came out here looking for Jessie? How I felt like it was some kind of decoy?”

“Aye.” He nodded and kept stride with her, wishing he had a weapon. “Are you feeling that way again, then?”

“Sort of,” she murmured. “It’s hard to describe.” She started jogging. “It just feels like we should be at the house instead of here. Just like before when Jessie vanished.” She shook her head. “Almost like we’re going in circles that we’re not in control of...like there’s something bigger going on that we’re not seeing.”

When they arrived in the yard, all seemed as it should be.

At first.

“Something is verra wrong,” Graham murmured, alarmed. “Off.”

“Hell yeah, it is,” Jim muttered, appearing at the front door. “One moment you two are standing in front of the fire, the next you’re gone. And in the short time you vanished, that old oak’s about withered up and died.”

“What do you mean?” Christina frowned and shook her head. “We’ve been in medieval Scotland for days, nearly a week. And it is going on winter here, so the tree’s probably just hibernating.”

Yet it was clear that wasn’t the case. Jim was right. The tree was dying quickly.

“You’ve been gone for a few hours at most, Christina.” Jim shrugged. “But I suppose that’s not surprising considering how time goes by differently between here and Scotland.” He flinched as he eyed the facial bruise she had acquired at Stirling Castle. “That looks painful.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little scuffle with a medieval Brit.” She waved it off. “So we’ve really only been gone a few hours?”

“Aye, ye havenae been gone long,” Blair said, appearing beside him.

“Yet ‘tis obvious that isnae the case for ye two,” Rona murmured, joining them as well. “How are things in Scotland? Is all well?”

Just when they thought things might be on the right path, it seemed they weren’t quite there. Because it was clear Rona had never left. That she had remained here the whole time.

“How did I not notice it before?” Christina whispered, eying the sky as snow began falling. “The storm is here that was on its way when we left.” Her eyes met Graham’s. “It looks like you’re right. Conall and Lindsay’s time flux did pretty much release us back where we began, give or take a few hours.”

Or Jessie and the warlock did, he thought.

“While you were gone, we found some alarming things.” Jim urged them to come inside and caught them up. “Things that definitely back up that you’ve been gone as long as you say you have and not just a few hours.”

When they walked inside it was truly as if they had never left except for the delicious scent. It was clear Christina’s stew had had time to cook. As Christina headed for Jessie’s chair, eying it as though she might find her friend there against the odds, Rona handed Graham a mug.

“Ye look like ye could use a wee dram, Brother,” she said, curious as she looked at him. “So what happened to ye two?” Her astute gaze went from Christina to him, a little sparkle in her eyes despite their circumstances. “There is a mighty glow about her ring now that I dinnae recall seeing before.”

“Aye,” Blair agreed, a wry grin on her face. “And ‘tis just the shade ye two claimed it to be.”

As Graham began filling them in on everything that had happened, Christina received Jessie’s little book from Jim.

“I know it’s private, but I figured I better take a peek inside in case she scribbled where she might’ve gone,” Jim said. “Instead, I found a whole lot more than I bargained for.”

When Christina began flipping through it and sank onto the sofa, Graham joined her.

“What the heck am I looking at?” she whispered. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Bloody hell,” Graham murmured as each picture told a different story.

Christina flipped back to the first page and the people standing outside by the old tree. There was no mistaking who they were. Milly, Christina, Jim, and Jessie.

“This was the first day we arrived,” she murmured. “Jessie never leaves her cabin up in Maine and doesn’t show emotion, so we were all shocked to find her standing out there looking up at the tree crying.”

“She dated when she drew these.” She continued flipping through the pages as she shook her head. “She had to have dated them incorrectly.”

“Right,” Jim said. “Because that first picture was apparently drawn a week before Milly caught wind of this house. Over a month before she actually bought it.”

Each page told the tale of not only how Milly and Lindsay came together with their MacLomain’s but Christina and Graham’s story too.

“So do those pictures accurately depict your adventure together?” Jim asked Graham and Christina. “ I only ask because Christina doesn’t have a shiner on her face in any of those.”

“Aye, ‘tis our adventure,” Graham acknowledged, dumbfounded.

“How could she have possibly...” Christina whispered as she eyed a drawing of herself swinging a sword. The picture almost seemed to come alive it was depicted so well. As if the viewer could see how impressive Christina was in battle. How magnificent and magical.

“I didn’t even know she could draw,” Christina continued. “I always thought this was just a journal she wrote in.” Her eyes swept over everyone before she looked at Graham. “I might be going out on a limb here, but this almost seems like she foresaw all of our stories before they actually happened.” She frowned, baffled as something occurred to her. “That she might’ve somehow controlled it all.”

Though that would require a tremendous amount of power, Graham found himself agreeing with Christina’s assessment.

“Mayhap,” Blair said. “But know this. No one can control Broun, MacLomain connections. ‘Tis beyond the scope of a witch or wizard’s magic.”

Christina’s eyes met Blair’s. “What about a warlock’s?”

“Nay.” Rona shook her head. “And if it is then ‘tis because of the influence dark magic had over the creation of the rings and nothing more.”

“Right,” Christina murmured. “Warlocks that might very well be under Jessie’s control.”

When everyone seemed confused by that statement, Graham continued filling them in on all that had happened. Outside of what was obvious in Jessie’s book that is.

“So history is on track again.” Blair nodded as she handed Christina a glass of wine. “That’s good news!”

“Is it back on track though?” Graham glanced out the window. “That oak is verra much tied into MacLomain and Broun history. What can it mean that it’s dying?” He looked at his sister. “What do you make of it, Rona? Did you sense its death coming? What might be connected to it?”

“Nay,” she said softly as she clearly read his thoughts. As she caught what he had not shared yet. “But I sensed Fraser’s. He did die, Graham.” Her eyes were moist. “There cannae be any doubt.”

He knew how close she and Conall had been with Fraser. That this would prove especially difficult for her. So he filled both her and Blair in on everything they had learned from Kenna.

“Consider it a glimmer of hope, Sister,” he said gently. “Where before there was none.”

“But I sensed his death,” she reiterated.

“Where ye didnae sense the tree’s,” Graham pointed out. “Mayhap you are being as affected by everything happening as we are. Mayhap ‘tis disturbing your magic as well.”

“Fraser died years ago,” she countered.

“Just like Uncle Darach disappeared years ago,” he reminded. “Only to return recently as this curse unravels.”

“Is it a curse then, Brother?” she whispered, her eyes drifting to the fire. “But then I suppose it must be to test the lives of so many.”

“But at least it’s a curse that’s unravelling rather than only getting worse,” Christina said, renewed optimism and determination in her eyes as she set aside the book. “After all, three couples have already found true love, and as you mentioned, your Uncle Darach has returned unharmed.”

He liked that she focused on the positive and especially liked her comment about three couples finding true love.

“We should eat,” she promptly declared, standing. “Unless that is, someone can return us to medieval Scotland, so we can figure out what’s going on back there?”

Unfortunately, though none had any issues getting here, going home remained a different story. So they settled in, ate, drank and went over everything they knew about what was happening in case they missed anything.

“This is verra good, lass,” Graham complimented Christina, more than impressed with her cooking skills. As was everyone else.

“Thanks.” She offered him one of those charming smiles he loved so much. “But it can’t touch my southern cooking.”

“You’ll have to make me southern cooking then,” he replied.

“Not so sure if you’ve got the proper ingredients back home.” She shrugged and kept smiling. “But I’ll give it my best shot.”

“So ye’ll be returning home with us then?” Rona asked, pleased based on her expression.

Christina chuckled. “Well, I’ve gotta be there to keep kickin’ the bad guys’ asses, right?”

“Sorry about the cursing, Granny,” she murmured in her mind then winked at Graham because she knew he heard her.

“Who knew you were such a fighter? And so strong!” Jim grinned, impressed. “And here you were bitchin’ about carrying a few boxes when Milly moved in.”

She snorted. “Hey, I might be strong, but that doesn’t mean I like moving stuff.”

Graham didn’t miss the way Blair eyed Jim and Christina with what might just be jealousy. Though tempted to pull Christina onto his lap after they were done eating to dispel that jealousy, he wanted a few moments alone with his sister, Rona. So he joined her when she returned to the fire and Jessie’s little book.

“How fare ye, Sister?” he murmured. “We’ve had no time to speak since Conall and Lindsay’s adventure.”

“I’m better than I was,” she assured, grateful it seemed that he had joined her. “Just wary of my gift faltering.”

“Aye, that cannae be easy,” he agreed, eying her. “But mayhap in some ways not entirely unwelcome?”

Though it was hard to imagine his own magic faltering, hers had oftentimes been more of a burden than anything. Knowing when life and death were coming. Having that kind of intense foresight. Especially in their day and age when death came far more often than life.

Rather than comment on his statement, she rested her hand on his arm and met his eyes. “I’m so verra sorry about Kenna. She was a good friend to us all.” She swallowed. “’Twas kind of ye to be there for her after Fraser died.”

He could tell by the look in her eyes that she had known about him and Kenna for some time. “I’m sorry I didnae tell ye...or anyone for that matter.”

“There is no need to be sorry.” She shook her head. “And ‘twas not like I was around all that much for ye to confide in, aye?”

“I dinnae think any of us have been around all that much in general since Fraser died,” he said softly. “One way or another, we’ve all been running. Coping in our own way.”

“Aye,” she murmured. “But ‘tis time for that to end. To be there not just for our country but our kin.”

“Aye, Sister.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. “Hopefully, if we get this worked out, time will reset itself, and ye’ll soon have a nice reunion with Ma and Da.” He grinned. “Or at least ‘tis soon on the horizon.”

“Aye?” She smiled. “That is good to hear. I miss them.”

“And they miss ye,” he assured. 

“’Tis odd that Blair hasnae commented on Fraser, aye?” he continued within her mind so their cousin would not hear. “’Tis as if she is pretending she didnae hear it.”

“Like all of us, she is a changed creature since he left,” she reminded. “She hears but refuses to believe. ‘Twould be too difficult to hope only to have those hopes dashed.” Her eyes met his. “What of ye, Brother? Do ye truly believe he might be alive somewhere out there?”

“I do,” he stated and meant it. “Mostly because Kenna seemed so sure of it...and Christina.”

“’Tis clear ye put a lot of faith in Christina.”

“Aye, all of it.”

A small smile ghosted her face. “She makes ye verra happy.”

“She does,” he agreed. “Despite all we’re going through.”

“’Tis good. I like her. More than that, I like the way she looks at ye and makes ye feel,” she said. “May I someday find the same sort of love.”

“Ye will,” he replied. “And he will be verra lucky indeed.”

“Aye, he will,” she agreed, grinning as she continued to leaf through Jessie’s book, commenting aloud absently. “Ye’ve all had interesting adventures thus far. ‘Tis hard to imagine what lies ahead for Bryce...”

When she trailed off, stunned, he grew alarmed. “What is it?”

Yet he already knew as she stopped on the last picture. One that had not been there before.

A map of what was now known as The United Kingdom.

“’Tis gone,” he whispered, pained. “Scotland is gone.”

“’Tis,” she whispered, just as heartbroken. “’Tis all England now.”