Wed To The Warrior

by Madison Faye

  …Distasteful.

  At least for anyone who happened to walk in on us, that is.

  We pull away, then come together once more, and then pull away again. This time, with a last smile that sends my heart soaring, she turns and scampers away to her own quarters. I watch her leave, pulse still roaring and my cock still aching for more before I turn and head to my own rooms.

  It’s late in the afternoon, approaching evening, but our wedding isn’t until midnight tonight, in the tradition of the old ways. The journey back was tiresome, and I need to bathe. A whiskey sounds good too. I make my way back through Lachlan’s castle to the guest quarters I’m staying in. But no sooner do I push the door open and step inside, then suddenly, there are figures rushing into me.

  I snarl, tensing and whirling, ready to fight. But when the two shapes come crashing into me, almost knocking me off my feet against the door, I start to chuckle.

  “For fuck’s sake, you arses.”

  Hamish and Malcolm step back from where they’ve knocked me into the door, laughing.

  “Wanted to give you a proper welcome back,” Hamish chuckles.

  “And a welcome to the married men club.” Malcolm passes me a glass of whiskey, the bottle on the table behind him already open and being enjoyed.

  “Making yourselves at home, I see?”

  Malcolm snorts. “It’s Hamish’s. The private stash stuff.”

  My brow perks as I take the glass and take a sip, relishing the taste of the good whiskey as it flows over my tongue.

  “I’m glad you could come, my friends.”

  Hamish, Malcolm, and I go way back. We were friends before the wars but living through them brought us closer than brothers. Surviving war and all the horror that comes with it together will do that. And now? Now it’s almost amusing to look at where we are. Three rough men roaring into battle covered in mud and blood. Now we’re three well-respected lords of the highlands, with titles, lands, castles…

  …And brides. Or at least, all three of us will soon enough.

  Hamish has been with his Una a month now. Malcolm and his Ailith only since two weeks before. And now me, with Catriona, this very night. It makes me smile knowing that our wives are all such good friends as well, considering how close the three of us are. It makes me wish we had a fourth companion for Cat, Una, and Ailith’s friend Rhona, though I know she’s engaged in her own right to some lord I don’t quite know.

  But, regardless, here we are.

  “Cheers,” Hamish growls, knocking his glass to mine and then Malcolm’s. “To married life, my friend. And to the women who make us whole, and better men.”

  Malcolm whistles lowly. “I will most certainly cheer to that last part.”

  “Aye,” I growl. “You need all the help you can get.”

  Hamish and I snort into laughter as Malcolm growls at me, shaking his head and knocking back his whiskey.

  “As if you’re some prince,” he grumbles.

  I chuckle. “Believe me, I’ve never once claimed to be.”

  “I hope not,” Hamish nods at me, his brow arched. “A prince might have a tricky time explaining the marks on your neck and shoulder there.”

  I frown, turning to glance at my shoulder and as much of my collarbone as I can glimpse. I grin.

  Oops.

  Across my skin are the very, very unmistakable marks of both kisses and fingernails. A close look might just reveal those marks to be the same size as Cat’s lips and fingertips.

  I turn back to my friends and grin, shrugging. Hamish chuckles, shaking his head. Malcolm snorts and pours me another drink.

  “Just can’t help yourself, can you?”

  I shake my head. “With her? Not a damn chance.”

  He grins. “Good man.”

  Hamish clears his throat. “Did you…”

  “No,” I growl, shaking my head. “Not until we wed. I…” I frown. “I have respect for her father, and for her. And traditions.”

  “You? Really?” The sarcasm is thick in Malcolm’s voice, and I roll my eyes at him as he laughs.

  “Well, we’re both proud of you, brother,” Hamish growls, clapping me on the shoulder. “Really. Who’d have ever imagined we’d be married, and settled? Castles? Lands? Titles?”

  I shrug, shaking my head. “Aye, I know. Well, I suppose I could have imagined you and I. Malcolm, I may have had a harder time picturing.”

  Hamish and I chuckle as our friend gives us a vulgar gesture.

  “I kid, my friend.”

  “Oh, we’ll see who’s kidding when I challenge you to a boxing match tonight and give you a beating right in front of your new bride.”

  I laugh, clicking my glass with Malcolm’s as we toast again.

  I don’t know how I’d have gotten here in life without these two friends.

  We talk, we laugh, we drink some more whiskey, and eventually, I usher them off to their own quarters. After all, I do still need to bathe. I need to dress.

  …I’m getting married tonight, after all.

  ****

  Sometime later, I sigh contentedly as I step from the steaming hot water of the bath. Lachlan’s guest quarters have metal tubs set up above fire pits, making for heavenly good and hellishly hot baths that I damn well could have sat in all week. I make a note to make sure I spend some time with Cat in one of them as I reach for a drying cloth.

  I dry off, pushing my fingers through my hair as I wrap the cloth around my waist and move back into the main room of my guest quarters to dress.

  “Enjoy yourself?”

  I whirl, snarling at the sudden voice, before my eyes narrow as they lock onto the intruder.

  Darcy.

  “Get out,” I growl, eyeing her sitting there in a high-backed chair, her eyes locked onto me.

  “This again?” she purrs. She stands, moving towards me. “We can dance all you want, Lord Bruce, but as I told you, I always get my way.”

  “I’m going to ask you one more time before I physically throw you from this room,” I mutter.

  A smile teases her lips. “Going to pick me up and throw me around, are you?” She laughs joylessly. “Careful, Lord Bruce, that sounds like it might be fun.”

  “Damnit,” I growl. “Leave. Now—”

  I’m expecting more resistance, or more of her not getting how serious I am. What I’m not expecting is for her to tug the tie to her dress undone, shrug it off her shoulders, and let it drop to her feet.

  …Which is exactly what she does.

  She’s still wearing an underskirt beneath it, but my line has been crossed.

  “Out!”

  I roar the word, loud and harsh enough that Darcy actually jumps back, her face paling before the anger takes over.

  “Don’t cross me, Lord Bruce,” she hisses. “And don’t think for a moment that—”

  “Perhaps you’re not used to men telling you no,” I hiss.

  “I’m not.”

  “Well then here’s a new word for you. No.”

  Darcy stiffens, her lips pursing tight as her eyes narrow at me. And suddenly, it’s like she realizes that I am in fact serious, and the anger grows across her face.

  She snarls at me, stooping down and grabbing her dress up, quickly yanking it back up and tying it together quickly.

  “Believe me, Lord Bruce. You’ll be regretting this insult.”

  “I sincerely doubt that,” I mutter back, a snarl on my lips. “Now get.”

  Darcy shoots me one last murderous glance before she whirls, her dress billowing after her as she storms from my room.

  I sigh, shaking my head and dropping back into a chair. Cat and I might need to have a serious discussion about her mad stepmother. I scowl as I dress quickly—not in my wedding finery, but simply in my usual kilt and tunic. The wedding isn’t for some time, but there’s not a chance I’m waiting that long before seeing my love.

  I move quickly through the castle towards her quarters, the anger and annoyance of her stepmother fa
ding as I get closer. Instead, by the time I get to her door, there’s a warmth in my heart and a grin on my face. I knock, but when the door swings open by itself, I frown as I step inside.

  “Catrio—”

  I freeze, and my heart sinks through the floor.

  Catriona is shuddering, her breath hitching as big tears roll down her cheeks. And there, behind her and looking at me with a cruel smiling vengeance on her face, is Darcy.

  “Cat—”

  “Get out!” she sobs, fury in her face as she looks up at me. Fury and so much pain that my heart breaks.

  And suddenly, I know what’s going on here. I know this is Darcy’s revenge for me rejecting her—poisoning Cat against me. And who knows what sort of vile lies she’s poured into my love’s ears.

  “Cat, let me—”

  “Get away from me!”

  I move towards her anyways, but suddenly, with a heart-wrenching cry, she’s shoving past me and running out the door, sobbing.

  Fury blazes through me, and I whirl on Darcy with such savagery that her wicked smile actually falters for a moment.

  “What have you done?” I hiss, my jaw tight, rage blazing in my eyes.

  She swallows, stiffening and drawing herself up regally. There’s a sneer on her lips as she smiles at me.

  “Showing you who has the power in this family.”

  I shake my head, backing away from her as I jab a finger at her chest.

  “You’ll regret this, Lady Darcy. That I can promise you.”

  “Not before I burn your world to the ground, Lord Bruce,” she tosses back with a wicked smile.

  I could stay, and yell and scream at her. But she doesn’t matter. What does is finding Cat and fixing this. What matters is making sure the woman I love knows the truth of whatever lies she’s been told.

  I whirl, running down the corridors of the castle after her.

  Chapter 10

  Catriona

  Tears blur my vision as I tumble out of the doors into the back gardens of my father’s castle. Years ago, or at least so I’ve been told, this was my mother’s favorite place. The gardens were hers, and under her, they flourished and bloomed. They haven’t gone completely to shambles or anything since she passed, but now, it’s one of the castle’s help that tends to the flowers and plants.

  And it’s just not quite the same as what they once were.

  But still, it’s where I come to escape sometimes. And right now, all I want is an escape. Part of me wants to run further than here—to keep going until my legs give out or until my breath stops. I could go to Aerie Doon, but then, he already knows to look for me there. And just the same, I don’t even know if I could manage to ride there now.

  Not with how wrecked my heart feels.

  My eyes squeeze shut as I storm across the darkened, walled gardens. Tears roll down my cheeks, and there’s a tearing feeling in my chest. I don’t want to believe Darcy. I don’t want to consider that she’d be that cruel to lie about something like this.

  …That Callum forced himself on her.

  It makes me sick to even think about it, and reliving her words is like a knife through my heart. The way she seemed both hysterical and something else… almost gleeful. Smug, perhaps. I’d screamed at her and told her I didn’t believe a word of it. But when she could tell me about specific scars on his body—places she’d only have seen if he was naked—my stomach dropped.

  That’s when he’d rushed in, and that’s when I’d run.

  …Again.

  I flop down in the grass behind a thicket of roses, and when my head hits my arms and I slump across the ground, the tears flow freely.

  “Catriona! Cat!”

  His voice is unmistakable, and I hate the way it sends a thrill through me—like I’m excited for him to be here before I suddenly remember that I hate him for what he did.

  “Cat!”

  “Go away!”

  I suddenly wish I’d just kept my damn mouth shut, because the second I scream it, I know he knows where I am. I can hear him running across the garden, and when he storms around the corner of the rose thicket, I jump to my feet. Hatred clouds my tear-stained face as I jab a finger at him, backing away.

  “Y—you—you stay away from me!”

  “Cat,” he hisses, fire blazing in his eyes. He steps towards me, but I scream at him, stepping back.

  “Damnit, Cat!” he roars, advancing on me. “Damnit, you know me!”

  “Do I?!”

  “Yes,” he hisses. “You know damn well that you do. Just like we both know damn well that whatever she told you is a lie.”

  “Why?” I sneer. “Why would she lie?”

  “I don’t know.” His shoulders drop, but his eyes are still blazing right into me. “I wish I did, but I don’t know what would possess someone to be so cruel and malicious.”

  “Is it true?” My voice is brittle and broken, my heart hanging by a thread.

  “No.” He answers without hesitation, his jaw tightening. “Gods, of course not, my love.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut.

  “She knew about your scars. The ones she could only know about if she—”

  “She was in my quarters.”

  I sob, whirling and shaking my head. But suddenly, he’s there, his hands on me, pulling me back into his strong chest. I want to fight him, and shove him away, but I don’t. I fall into him instead, still trembling.

  “I don’t know why she was, but she was, when I came out of the bath. That’s how she saw the scars, Cat. She…” he growls. “She offered herself to me. Tonight, and last night back at Aerie Doon.”

  “And?!” I snap, whirling and glaring at him.

  Slowly, he grins, and I want to be furious, but the longer he grins at me, the more my heart melts.

  “And do you truly think I don’t see what a poisonous, cruel woman she is? Do you truly not see how badly you’ve stolen my heart?”

  He pulls me close, my defenses crumbling as his arms move around me.

  “Do you truly not know how much I love you?”

  And that did it. Just like that, the walls come down, and any lingering doubt in me that even gave an inch of credibility to Darcy falls away.

  “Callum, I…”

  I whimper as I throw myself into him, hugging him fiercely.

  “I don’t know why I listened to her! I—” I shake my head against his chest.

  “God, why would she say that? And what is wrong with me that I’d give her lies a single second thought?”

  He smiles, pulling me close and hugging me fiercely.

  “I don’t know, little love. I wish I did, but I don’t. People are… complicated.”

  “Or horrible, bitter hags,” I spit.

  He chuckles, kissing the top of my head.

  “I’m sorry, my love.”

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “That you felt pain.” His eyes pierce into mine as he pulls me close. “I never want you to be hurt or feel anything like that. Not ever.”

  He leans in, and slowly, our lips come together. I moan quietly, my hands sliding around his waist as his arms wrap around me. And whatever pain or anger I’m still feeling drifts away like morning mist. I kiss him slowly, and then harder, and deeper, giving him everything as we come crashing together.

  I moan as he lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he kisses me hungrily. He drops to his knees, pushing me down across the grass, his mouth never leaving mine. Hands tear at clothes, breaths come haggard and panting, and our bodies press tight together. He opens my dress, slipping it off my shoulder and down my arms. And when my breasts are bared to him, I cry out as his mouth dips to wrap his lips around a soft, pink nipple.

  He groans into me, his strong hands pushing my dress totally off me as mine rip at his tunic. He lifts up, yanking the garment off and tossing it away before moving back to my breasts. I moan wildly, his tongue swirling over my nipples sending lightning through my core. His hands shove my underskirt down ju
st as my hands rip at his kilt, yanking it off of him. His hand slides between my thighs to find me wet and eager for him, just as mine curls tentatively around his thick, gorgeous cock.

  “Cat,” he purrs into my neck, kissing me as his finger delves between my lips. He strokes up slowly, dragging my slickness over my lips before letting the finger bump over my clit. He growls, his lips dropping to my breasts again, teasing my nipples before he moves lower and lower, down over my tummy as his powerful hands spread my legs.

  He kisses lower, his breath teasing across my thighs, and when his tongue swipes over my dripping wet cunt, I cry out into the night sky.

  Callum groans, his hands shoving my legs high in the air and wide apart as his tongue absolutely devours me. He teases me slowly and deeply, pushing his wicked tongue in and out of me before dancing it higher to my clit. He wraps his lips around my little button, sucking at it gently as his tongue swirls circles around it. I cry out, shuddering for him and moaning wildly as my hips fight to rise against his mouth.

  Callum slides back down, his tongue dancing up and down my lips, before slowly, he goes lower. His tongue swipes over my forbidden hole, teasing my ass as I gasp sharply and whimper wantonly. It’s so wrong, and so… wicked, but I crave more of it. I crave everything he wants to do to me.

  His tongue swirls around my asshole, making me cry out for more before his tongue pushes into me. Pleasure explodes through me as he starts to fuck me with his tongue, making my toes curl and my pulse thunder through me. My pussy aches for more, and almost as if he can read my body, his hand moves to my clit, his fingers rolling it as he teases my ass. He groans into me, pushing me higher and higher, my breath coming fast and haggard, until I’m sure he’s going to make me come.

  He pulls away, and I whine in protest before he grabs me, rolls, and flips me on top of him. I moan, kissing him hungrily as my legs astride his muscled hips. He holds his cock in one hand, my ass in the other, and slowly, he pulls me back and forth across him, sort of like how we did before. My pussy drags back and forth across his big, swollen cock, dripping my arousal all over him as he fucks me slowly without actually fucking me.