Shadow Highlander

NINETEEN

Logan shifted in his perch high in a nearby tree. He knew there was a possibility the frequent and ferocious lightning might strike the tree. But that’s what made it so appealing.

He had decided to keep watch the entire night, not because Galen didn’t want to take his turn, but because Logan had seen the restless and troubled look in his friend’s eyes as Galen watched Reaghan.

Nay, it was better for all concerned if Galen stayed inside so he would be there when Reaghan woke. And in truth, Logan didn’t mind keeping watch.

He thought back to the time at MacLeod Castle when he had volunteered to come with Galen on their search for the artifact. Hayden, the best friend a man could have, though he was more of a brother to Logan, had been taken aback when Logan volunteered.

Logan had done it partly because Hayden needed to stay and face Isla, but also because Logan had needed time away. It wasn’t because of something anyone did to him. In fact, it was the opposite.

Everyone, especially the women, made the castle feel like a home. That’s the way the MacLeods wanted it, but it reminded Logan too much of his own home.

The longer he stayed and shared his meals with everyone, the more difficult it became to bear. Hayden had enough troubles of his own, with his past hounding him as it always did, so Logan kept his anxiety to himself.

Maybe he should have shared his thoughts with Hayden, but although Hayden was moody and temperamental, he craved the home the MacLeods had offered them. Would Hayden have really understood the torment in Logan’s soul?

Logan blinked away the water that fell onto his eyelashes and into his eyes. This journey with Galen had turned out far differently than Logan had expected.

The battle with the wyrran had been just what he needed. What he needed still. He knew it was only a matter of time before there was another skirmish. At the rate the Druids were moving, that time could come more quickly than any of them realized.

But Logan was ready.

He smiled and lifted his hand to see the silver skin and long, silver claws. Aye, he was more than ready to appease his god with more blood and battle and death.

When they set out at dawn the rain had thankfully ended, though the torrent had left the ground squishy and muddy.

Reaghan barely noticed the hem of her gown covered in mud as they sloshed through the sodden terrain. Her gaze was on Galen’s back as he led them closer and closer to MacLeod Castle.

She had drifted off to sleep in his arms, cradled in his strength. The ever-present worry was in his gaze whenever he looked at her now, and she couldn’t dispel the fear it was because she was sickly.

When she had awoken that morn Galen had been gone. It had felt good to sleep next to him, as if that were the way her life should be.

She didn’t understand the trust she had for Galen, or the attraction that seemed to grow the more she was around him. She barely knew him, and yet she knew instinctively he would protect her at all costs.

It went against everything she had been taught by the Druids about Warriors.

Reaghan’s thoughts were halted when a small hand slipped inside hers. She looked down to find Braden looking up at her with his big brown eyes.

“You scared me yesterday,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I will try not to do it again.” It was a promise she was likely not to keep, but for the lad, she would do anything to keep his innocence from the evil that was out in the world.

Braden nodded. “Galen wouldna let any of the others touch you.”

“Is that so?”

“Aye,” Braden said, the look not that of a boy, but of the man he would someday become. “He said he would keep you safe, and he did.”

Reaghan smiled and squeezed Braden’s hand. “You will make a fine Highlander, Braden.”

He beamed, his smile wide and infectious. “Really? Do you think Galen or Logan will teach me how to wield a sword?”

“You need to ask your mother first, but I imagine they would be pleased to do so.”

Braden spun on his heel and raced back to his mother. Reaghan watched him and couldn’t help but laugh at the lad’s enthusiasm. He spoke so fast Fiona couldn’t understand him and had to get him to repeat it three times before she caught all of it.

When she nodded, Braden raced to the back of the group where Logan was. The Warrior held out his arms as Braden jumped to him. Logan easily caught him and swung him up on his shoulders, all while Braden talked nonstop.

When Reaghan turned back around it was to find Galen’s gaze on her. He paused, his cobalt eyes boring into hers, heating her blood and making her heart thump against her chest.

She licked her lips and took in a shaky breath when he turned away. How she wished they were already at the castle so she could talk to Galen without Mairi always within earshot. Reaghan thought of his suggestion of locking them in his chamber for a week, making love to her throughout the day.

To have him all to herself. Alone, in his chamber, touching him, kissing him, learning more of his spectacular body. She remembered his kiss the night before. The passion. The need. The hunger.

The throbbing began between her legs, insistent and heated. She wondered if she could get him alone soon. To have his large hands on her, the hard length of his body over her, his delicious weight atop her. And his staff inside her, thrusting deep, hard, and fast until they both succumbed to a climax that left them breathless and sweating.

Of a sudden Galen whistled as he turned and paused. He motioned the group onward. Logan trotted to the front of the Druids, Braden squealing with every step Logan took.

Reaghan was just wondering what excuse she could find to speak to Galen when he snagged her hand as she walked past. She lifted her skirts with her free hand and let him pull her to the back, uncaring that others watched.

“What’s wrong?” she asked when he finally halted.

He pulled her against him, molding her body to his. “I felt your eyes on me. God’s blood, Reaghan, I cannot go another heartbeat without tasting you.”

His mouth came down on hers, his tongue slipping past her lips. He devoured her, his arousal pressing into her stomach as his hands spanned her back.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. The kiss was slow, languid. It fueled her already heated passion. Her breasts swelled against his chest, eager for his touch.

Reaghan moaned when he cupped a breast and rolled a nipple between his fingers. She wanted to lift her skirts, to wrap her legs around his waist and have him fill her.

The urgency that swept through her to have him made her skin burn. As if he felt her need, he rocked his hips against her.

“Ah, Reaghan,” he murmured, and kissed down her neck to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “I’d take you now if I could.”

When he lifted his head, Reaghan clung to his strong shoulders and wished they were anywhere but traveling, wished she had the magic to bring them to the castle in the blink of an eye.

It was going to be a long journey to MacLeod Castle.

Dunmore kicked open the stone door to Cairn Toul and strode inside. He had ridden his horse nearly to death to get to the mountain as hastily as possible. As it was, his mount was useless to him now.

When he walked past Deirdre’s chambers he felt a stir in the air. He paused and turned to find Deirdre standing in the doorway. Surprise ripped through him. Who had found her a Druid so she could regain her form?

That was supposed to have been his right. He had promised her he wouldn’t fail, and yet somehow he had.

“Mistress,” he said and bowed.

“Rise, Dunmore.”

He straightened and blinked at the beauty before him. Deirdre had always taken his breath away. While others had found her startling white hair and eyes frightening to look upon, he found them stunning. He loved the high cheekbones in her heart-shaped face and her full lips.

“How?” he asked. “Did someone else bring you a Druid?”

“Nay. I had … other means. I will still need Druids.”

“Of course.”

Deirdre peered around him. “Where are my wyrran?”

“We were following the scent of strong magic when we encountered Warriors.”

Her white eyes narrowed and her long, white hair that grazed the floor twitched. “Warriors? What color where they?”

“Green and silver.”

“Galen and Logan,” she murmured. “I don’t suppose you captured them.”

Dunmore slowly shook his head. “We were after the Druids, but the Warriors were protecting them.”

“Interesting,” Deirdre said, as she leaned against the stone doorway and traced her red lips with a long fingernail. “Why were Galen and Logan away from MacLeod Castle? Did they stumble upon the Druids, or had then been searching for them?”

“I intend to discover all, mistress, just as soon as I get more wyrran.”

She turned her attention back to Dunmore. “Do you think the Druids will stay where you found them? It’s more likely the Warriors are taking them to MacLeod Castle.”

“I suspected as much,” Dunmore lied, not wanting Deirdre to know he hadn’t thought of that.

Deirdre smiled, proving once more that he could never lie to her. “Where were these Druids you found?”

“Loch Awe.”

Deirdre froze, her eyes burning with fury. “Loch Awe? Are you sure?”

“Aye, mistress.”

She tipped back her head and let out a scream so full of rage that Dunmore took a step away from her. Deirdre had always been easy to anger, but he had never seen her like this.

The scream finally ended and her chest rose and fell rapidly as she focused on him. “Forget finding the Druids before they reach MacLeod Castle, Dunmore. I have another task for you. I think a visit to the MacClures is in order.”

“As you wish,” he murmured. Dunmore knew Deirdre’s mind. Whatever she had planned with the MacClures would mean battle. And death.

He smiled, eager to begin.