Domnall (Immortal Highlander, Clan Mag Raith Book 1): A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Hazel Hunter

  “Aye, but I’d taken the life of a headman. ’Twas no greater crime among the Pritani. For years the tribe saw how my sire and I despised each other. His end meant I’d take his place. If I’d confessed to killing him, they’d have put me to death by ritual sacrifice. I wished to live.” He regarded her. “Thus, I hid my sire’s body, gathered my hunters at dawn, and left.”

  She put her arms around him, feeling him stiffen before he pulled her close.

  “’Twas why the Sluath took us, I reckon. My wickedness and my cowardice drew them to me.” He buried his face in her hair for a moment. “You cannae count how many times I’ve wished I hadn’t fought him. That I’d let him end me. For what I did I deserve to suffer, but the others wouldnae be damned but for my evil.”

  Jenna drew back and cradled his face with her hands. “Did you want him dead? Is that really why you stabbed him?”

  Domnall shook his head. “I didnae even ken ’twas my sire until he spoke his last. ’Twas too dark to see his face.”

  “Then you did nothing wrong. You defended yourself.” When he averted his gaze, she made him look at her. “You fought for your life. How could that be evil?”

  He closed his eyes, and touched his brow to hers. “It tore at my heart to see what I’d done. Truly I’d forever despised him for how hard and cruel he’d been to me. Yet I never once wished him dead. I but wanted him to care for me, even as I saw he never would.”

  “You saved yourself. You saved me. You even spared Galan after he tried to shoot me.” She brushed her lips over his. “You’re not a killer, Domnall.”

  His shoulders shook, and he uttered a low sound as he lifted her onto his lap. “I wish to take you far from here. To build a home for us, where we might abide in peace.” His mouth thinned. “Yet too I think the Sluath shall hunt us forever.”

  “We escaped them twice,” Jenna said and curled her arms around his neck as she considered how difficult it must have been for him to tell her about his father. She needed to do something in return. “I want to stay at Dun Chaill, but it’s not as important to me as being with you. If you really think we’re in danger, I’ll leave with you tomorrow.”

  “Thank the Gods.” Domnall drew her down with him, turning on his side so they lay facing each other in the cool, soft grass. “If we love again, more memories may return to us.” He said that with a trace of self-mockery.

  She pressed against him, and trailed her fingertips over the ink on his arm. “Or we could just make love because we want to. I think we should.”

  “I delight in how you think.”

  Domnall spanned her jaw with his hand, and covered her mouth with his.

  All the kisses before this one had been frantic and passionate, but now they tasted each other slowly. Jenna caught his breath and gave him hers in soft, endless sighs. Desire began building between them, hardening Domnall’s muscles and softening her own. His big, tough body made her feel so deliciously feminine and delicate. When he rolled her onto her back, the weight of him between her thighs felt so good she never wanted to move again.

  He drew her arms over her head, and stripped off her tunic. His head lowered as he nuzzled her bare breasts, kissing and nipping at her puckered nipples. The smell of him rolled over her, dusky and deep with masculine arousal. She could feel the ridge of his erection against her pussy, pulsing now with his need. Excitement streaked through her, bowing her back and urging her thighs up to cradle his hips.

  “You’re making me hot again,” Jenna murmured, caressing his hard chest with her palms. “And this time I’m not walking through walls.”

  He faked a scowl. “You drove the wits from me when you vanished into the stone.” He sat back to tug off her trousers, and then went still as he gazed down at her. “Gods, but surely you’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever beheld.”

  “Now you’re driving me out of my wits.” Jenna reached up for him, and then gasped as he shifted down and spread her thighs. “Domnall, what are you…ah.”

  The feel of his mouth on her pussy made a low cry burst from her, and then Jenna became awash with aching need. He kissed and licked her with hungry fervor, his tongue stroking her and teasing her until she gripped the grass beside her and jerked her hips. His hands slid under her, holding her where he wanted her, and then he began laving her clit without stopping. The persistent wet, firm loving of his tongue sent her thrashing as she came apart, shaking helplessly from the intensity of the climax.

  Domnall kissed and blew his breath on her throbbing nub, lifting his damp mouth at last as he surged up over her. She tore at his laces, needing him inside her so much she couldn’t speak or think or breathe.

  “Ken how sweet you are,” he crooned before he kissed her, sharing the slickness from her sex on his tongue.

  Tasting herself in his mouth made Jenna want to shove him over and take him in hers, but he had freed his heavy cock by then, and notched the satiny head between her folds. Her thighs quivered as he began to press in, sinking into the honeyed wetness he’d created, his body tensing over hers.

  No memories came back to Jenna this time, which gave her the chance to savor every inch he sank into her. Feeling his body merge with hers gave her a sense of being completed. She didn’t need anything more than him coming into her, taking her, claiming her. If he’d left Dun Chaill she wouldn’t have stayed behind, she realized. She’d have ridden after him, unable to bear being apart from the man she…

  “I love you,” she breathed. Something inside her that had been closed off and locked and guarded suddenly flooded out of her with the words. “I loved you when we were slaves. I loved you when I woke up in the ash grove. I just couldn’t let myself feel it.”

  “Yet now you do.” Domnall’s eyes shifted as he looked all over her face, and his mouth curved with fierce satisfaction. “Aye, ’tis everywhere on you, this love for me. We’ll wed as soon as we may.”

  He wasn’t asking, Jenna thought, but it thrilled her to know he wanted her that much. “Yes.”

  Domnall drew out of her, and then surged back inside. “We’ll never be parted again, luaidh.”

  As a mortal she couldn’t promise that, but for tonight she’d let him believe it. “No, my love. Not ever. Oh.” He pumped so deep she felt it in her breasts, and released a shivery moan.

  He bent his head to catch the sound, gripping her bottom with one big hand. Then he fucked her, so slowly she writhed under him, desperate and delighted, loving and needing.

  Their bodies moved together as if they’d been lovers all their lives. Domnall knew exactly how to touch her, his fingers stroking her mound and the curve of her bottom with sensual relish. She could feel him swelling against the clasp of her softness, eager and hard. With the deep shockwaves gathering in her core it wouldn’t be long before they both came for each other, but he was still trying to be gentle.

  “I love how you fack me,” Jenna told him, using his word for it. His eyes narrowed and glittered as he plowed deeper into her. “That’s what I want, yes. Give me everything. I need it. I need all of you.” She kissed his shoulder. “Be my husband, Domnall.”

  He muttered something under his breath, sweat dripping from his face, and then his body blurred.

  Jenna shrieked with astonished joy, feeling his cock stroking in and out of her impossibly fast. Her bliss broke over her a moment before he roared and plunged one last time, fucking her with his seed and his quicksilver shaft.

  Domnall almost collapsed on her before he rolled over, keeping their bodies joined as he held her atop him. “You bewitch my sense from me, luaidh. I might have harmed you.”

  She couldn’t move, but she managed a shake of her head. “That was…” There wasn’t a word in her vocabulary to describe it, so instead she made a sexy sound.

  “You’ll truly wed me?” The hesitance in his voice made her look at him. “’Twas meant to be asked, no’ demanded.”

  Gods, he was stealing her heart all over again. “We can have a ceremony or whatever your
people do, but I feel like we’re married already. Except…” Domnall’s green eyes watched her intently. “What does luaidh mean?”

  He grinned, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed the top of her head. “Loved one.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  After making love much of the night, Domnall woke near dawn feeling a pervasive, curious contentment. He’d never slept after the sun rose, but he’d never loved sitting alone by the fire before it did. Now he would never have to again, at least for Jenna’s lifetime.

  He glanced down at his lover, who lay sprawled over him in complete abandon under his tartan. Dew had spangled her dark locks and even her eyelashes, and the sunrise bathed her with its pale golden light. She smelled of loving, and him, the most intimate fragrance of all. In that moment he could have easily vowed to never leave the spot.

  “Why are you watching me sleep?” she murmured without opening her eyes.

  “Because if I wake you, we must leave this place to ride all day.” She would always be a bit cross in the early hours, he thought, because she slept so soundly. “I thought to spare you as long as I may, as you’re a female, and unused to it.” The glare she gave him after she lifted her head made him chuckle. “You see? Now we must dress and return to the camp.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t love you anymore.”

  She pushed herself off him and staggered to her feet, naked and yawning. As he dressed Domnall watched her wriggle into her trews, admiring the sweet curves and lovely smoothness of her torso. She would be his now, for as long as she lived. He would enjoy every day of her life, every hour, every moment. Yet when she turned around to look for her tunic, a flash of silver made him reach for her.

  “Oh, no, sir,” Jenna said, quickly skittering away. “Not if I’m going to be in the saddle all day.”

  “’Tis no’ that.” He gently turned her until he could see clearly the length of her spine. Carefully he touched the altered glyphs. “The Sluath’s skinwork, ’tis no longer black. ’Tis turned to silver.”

  “Okay.” She tried to look over her shoulder, and then frowned at him. “Did you notice? So is yours.”

  Domnall lifted his arm into the sunlight, which made the new, paler color of his ink glow. “’Tis been unchanged since I awoke in the grove.” He glanced at the ground where they had slept. “What the fack did this?”

  “Maybe our facking,” she said wryly, and then took a closer look at his arm. “Domnall, the ink didn’t change color. It looks like it’s fading.”

  He watched the play of emotions on her face. “What do you reckon?”

  “You told me about your father last night, and I agreed to leave Dun Chaill. Then we made love and agreed to be married.” She smiled a little. “According to your legends the Sluath prey on people who are helpless and alone. That’s not either of us anymore.”

  He took hold of her hands. “And we’ll never be from this day forth, luaidh. I promise you.”

  “If we’re married, or going to be married, we should make some official vows.” She pretended to think for a moment. “I promise not to argue with you in front of the men. I’ll wait until we’re alone.”

  He nodded. “I vow no’ to beat you.” When she laughed, he frowned. “Dinnae tell me men in your time yet do.”

  “They don’t, unless they want to go to jail, but thank you. I would appreciate not being beaten.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I promise not to get mad at you unless you really make me angry.”

  “I pledge to kiss you as often as I may, but not as I wish.” He tipped up her chin. “For I’d never cease kissing you.”

  He kissed her then and when their mouths parted Jenna’s eyes lit up with happiness. “Can we negotiate on that one?”

  When they arrived at the camp, they found the hunters gathering and packing the last of their belongings, saddling the mounts and extinguishing the fire’s embers.

  “Fair morning,” Mael hailed them. “Lass, do I saddle five or six mounts?”

  “Six,” Jenna called back, making him grin. She said to Domnall in a lower voice, “I need to go water a tree. Give me five minutes?”

  He nodded, and watched her hurry off before he went to check the tack on her horse. He knew the tracker was watching him as well, and said, “Ask.”

  “I but wish to ken how you persuaded that obstinate little thing to come with us,” Mael said. “Did you ply her with whisky? Threaten to tie her to a mount? Drop on your knees and beg?”

  “I drove her near crazed with pleasure, again and again.” As the other man gaped at him, he chuckled. “Only she agreed to come with us before I did. I cannae claim it my coaxing. In all things, she chooses to do as she will.”

  From his expression Mael was even more perplexed. “Well, then.” The tracker seemed lost for words but then he shrugged. “Jolly good for the lass.”

  As he led his mount away, Kiaran cocked his head at Mael’s back and Domnall frowned.

  Jolly?

  What had got into the man?

  Domnall’s gaze shifted to the nearest wall of the ruins, and his unease grew.

  Once she’d dealt with nature’s call Jenna walked back along Dun Chaill’s outer wall. It still puzzled her that the stonework that had collapsed didn’t appear to fit in the gaping spaces they’d left. Squatters or salvagers may have moved or stolen some of the loose stones, but it seemed unlikely. Transporting such heavy objects would have required a lot of muscle and horse power.

  As she reached toward one of the gaps to test the stones, she tripped.

  After coming to a stumbling stop, and barely managing to stay upright, she looked back to see that her boot had caught on a gnarled and knobby root. She had to laugh a little. After everything she’d been through, to have tripped and hit her head on the wall, would have been irony in the extreme.

  She glanced back along her path to give the ruins a final look. She’d always loved reading about old medieval castles, and how well so many had weathered the passage of time. Their deceptively simple construction often survived for centuries beyond more modern buildings.

  Domnall may have hated Dun Chaill, but she loved it.

  As she sighed a little and turned to go, something near the root caught her eye. A sparkling, light green stone peeked at her.

  “What’s this?” she muttered, as she reached down to pry it out of the dirt.

  But it was much bigger than she’d imagined: an eight-sided crystal the size of her fist. Brushing away the soil from the facets revealed its lovely color, like an emerald filled with mist.

  Jenna glanced around, trying to see from where it might have come. Another glitter closer to a gap in the wall caught her eye. She went over and retrieved a slightly smaller crystal, this time the rich red color of a garnet.

  “Not-so-buried treasure.” She saw more glittering gems inside the wall, forming a somewhat uneven line into the interior. “Or maybe breadcrumbs.”

  At the very least they could be used to trade for supplies along the journey to the midlands. So Dun Chaill was offering up a final treasure. She smiled to herself and picked up the next few shining stones. But as she moved through the roofless passages, she stopped picking up the gems. If she went too far inside, she realized, she might need them to quickly find her way back out.

  “And if I can’t, I’ll just walk through the walls,” Jenna promised herself.

  Light shifted over her as her footsteps stopped crunching the dead leaves lining the passage. She’d reached another bed of fern, which completely covered the ground and hid any other gems that might have been dropped. Had the castle’s builders been forced out by some catastrophe? Had they run with their arms filled with their precious things, dropping them in their haste? It couldn’t have been a fire. There wasn’t a single scorch mark on any of the interior stones. The floors would have been thick with soot and burnt wood after a blaze.

  It hadn’t suddenly collapsed, either. She knew only too well what that kind of disaster looked
like.

  Jenna stopped on the threshold of a large, wide room. The space, punctuated by tall trees that provided a kind of roof, looked to be some kind of central gathering area. Probably a great hall, she recalled from the books she’d read. It would be where the resident lord would conduct his business, hold banquets and parties, and even meet with important visitors.

  Not a stick of furniture remained, but she could make out some faded paintings on the remains of the lime-washed walls. Swirls of yellow and red, dotted by five-petalled flowers, curled like giant, ghostly vines around the room. Something about it made her imagine the castle literally growing out of the original fortress, spreading like a wild garden of stone. It also brought a twinge of discomfort as she saw all the passages leading off to other parts of the ruins. One in particular had a huge crystal dropped just in front of the open arch.

  All right. I’ll play your little game. Just one more room.

  She crossed to it and stood peering inside. It was too dark to see anything from here. She’d just go inside and take one peek. If it was a treasure room, and the lord of the castle hadn’t taken everything, it could help them build that home Domnall wanted for them. If there were more gems like the ones she’d seen, it might even build them their own castle.

  She heard a faint sound as she stepped inside, like the snap of a dry twig, and paused to make sure of her footing.

  The interior beyond the arch appeared completely dark except for a single, narrow sun beam that had found its way down through the tree canopy. Nothing it touched sparkled, but Jenna saw what looked like long rows of full-body armor. On the walls she could see the silhouettes of spears, swords, shields and other weapons. The smell of something like oil and moss grew heavy in the air. She moved inside, being careful to look down before she took a step, and finally made it to the center of the chamber.

  “Oh, boy.” She turned around slowly to take it all in.

  Dozens of life-size statues cast in iron surrounded her. Splotches of moss covered the top of their heads like green curly toupees, but otherwise they seemed untouched by time. All appeared to be men dressed in primitive-looking garments. Whoever had made them had fashioned each one with unique features and clothing without any duplication. Some wore furs so finely detailed they resembled real pelts, as if someone had skinned animals made of iron. All of the statues carried swords and daggers that looked incredibly sharp too.