by Gill, Tamara
She moaned, could feel her orgasm building, thrumming just on the edge of release. And then she tumbled. She gasped, whimpered his name, kissing him deep and long as he too followed her to release.
His cock seemed to swell, filling her, giving her what she wanted. Her body drained him of his seed, taking and giving as they both rocked to a slower tempo as their orgasms ebbed away.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, placing her face a scant distance from his. "It has never been like this for me. Not with anyone."
He kissed her, long and slow, their tongues tangling, his lips teasing and beckoning her to fall. But Maya knew the truth. She had already fallen. Weeks ago, perhaps. Possibly even from the very first moment she laid eyes on the Laird Macleod.
How could one not love such a man? A man of honor, strength, and loyalty. He trusted her, welcomed her into his home when she had nowhere else to go. A kind man, no matter what anyone said. What was there not to love?
He didn't say anything. Merely walked them to the bed and lay her down. He joined her, stripping them both of their clothes, before making slow, heartbreaking love to her for the remainder of the night.
If a pang of fear had spiked through her at his absence of words, his inability to say what he felt, his actions told Maya differently.
For if love had a physical movement, his cherishing of her told her all she needed to know.
That Boyd loved her as well. As much as she did him.
Dougall O’Cain strode through his army of men, men who had for the last several weeks trained, learned, and fought each other to make their skills precise and deadly.
He had sent out several clansmen to bring in all the young O’Cain men on his land to learn to fight, to join him in making the clan stronger, more prosperous. To defeat Macleod and his ancient clan once and for all.
"The men are ready, Dougall. I doona think that Macleod will stand a chance against us." Dougall nodded, watching the men spar out on the flatlands at the base of their stronghold.
Tents littered the grounds. Fire pits burned, the smell of meat cooking rent the air. His army was strong and healthy. All things that Macleod would not expect.
That his enemy had been distracted the last few months had enabled him to prepare, to plan, to spy.
Macleod no longer held a chance against him and his army. Excitement thrummed in his veins at the thought of his victory. Of taking Druiminn Castle for himself, and all the wealth that came with it.
He would savor the downfall of Boyd Macleod, make the man watch as he took the woman reported to be his love, his savior after all these years.
He would see for himself if Macleod was immortal. When a knife cut you through or removed one's head, he doubted immortality would save anyone then.
"When will we march for Macleod land?"
Dougall rubbed his jaw in thought. “We will aim for after Samhain. Let his men be groggy from their night of revelry and tired from their track to Glendale. Let them face us in battle with a hazy mind and slow hands and bellies full of feasting. It'll be like slaughtering sheep."
He chuckled to himself at the thought of their victory. That within a sennight there would be no more clan Macleod. That all of Scotland and England too would know the O’Cains ruled Skye and that there was no room for anyone else.
Not ever again.
Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty Six
Boyd was up to something, and Maya wasn't sure what. Over the days since her return, he had a nervous edge about him. She caught him often looking at her as if something troubled him. He hovered like a man terrified he would lose what he was guarding. She knew that her absence had scared him, possibly even made him realize what she meant to him, and even though he had not said the words, she knew he loved her as much as she loved him.
If only he would declare himself.
With only a few days until Samhain, the clan was busy preparing for the feast to celebrate the end of the harvest season. Already meats were being prepared to cook over the many bonfires. Women were busy preparing cakes to be left for the dead, following the pagan beliefs of the time. Maya had said nothing about this, and nor would she. After being thrown back to the sixteenth century and having the Fae Queen steal her away for months on end, if the dead rose on Samhain, Maya doubted she'd bat an eyelid.
She walked from her room, shutting her door and finding two maids chatting secretly near a door that led up to the top of the turret. When they saw her, one of the young girls hurried away while the other pretended to wipe a sconce on the wall clean of dust.
The servants had been acting odd as well when she came to think of it. Always someone near that one particular sconce. It would have to be the cleanest item in the castle, without a doubt.
Maya walked toward the stairs, bringing her closer to the maid, and noticed the woman wouldn't make eye contact with her. That she appeared nervous, too, if her wide eyes and jittery stance was any indication.
Maya stopped beside her. "Good morning," she said, hoping the young woman would speak. She did, but it was more like a squeak.
"My lady," she said, dipping into a curtsy before rubbing the sconce yet again with renewed vigor.
Maya reached out, halting her hand. "You've been here a lot lately. Is there a reason you've been loitering about in the hall these past days?"
"Nay, my lady. Not at all." The maid did look at her then, her eyes wide with fear. What on earth was going on? Why would she be scared to answer such an easy question?
"I think the sconce is clean. In fact, I think this whole passageway is the cleanest in Scotland. You do not need to stay here, lass. You can go back downstairs if you like."
The woman shook her head, her mouth pinched. "I canna, my lady. I'm to stay here and work. Those are my orders."
"Who gave you those orders?" Maya asked, curious. Was it Boyd or the housekeeper, she wondered.
"The laird, my lady." The woman bit her lip, her eyes flicking over Maya's shoulder.
Hmm. Maya turned about and spied the door that led up to the top of the turret. She hadn't been up there—never one for heights—to look out over the lands from the top of a tower had never interested her. Even the thought of it now made her palms sweat.
But why always linger in this part of the hall? "Have you been told to guard the door behind me?" she asked, not missing the young woman's eyes widening at her question.
So she had been charged with such a mission. What was Boyd up to? What was he hiding?
"Nay, my lady. I'm merely cleaning, as is my employment."
"You may go downstairs. The hall is clean enough," Maya commanded, knowing the maid would accept her stern tone. The woman hastened off, all but running down the stairs as if the devil himself were after her.
Maya turned toward the door, wondering if Boyd had it locked as well. Surprisingly, when she pushed on the metal handle, it opened, swinging wide. Stairs leading upward met her gaze, and Maya entered, shutting the door behind her to stop anyone from finding her and halting her progress. She needed to find out what the hell was going on.
The staircase circled twice before opening out into a circular room with coarse wooden floorboards. There were no windows, only narrow slits used during battle for archers. Not so scary and certainly not up on the roof where she would feel woozy.
Maya stepped off the last step onto the floor and turned, taking in the entire space and stilled.
Boyd had been keeping something from her.
"Holy shit," she breathed, taking a small step toward the large silk tapestry, complete and shining bright its many colors that hung before her—staring back at her like a taunting bully ready to pounce.
Her favorite picture was just the same, except where the tapestry in the twenty-first century had dulled with time, now it was bright, new, and utterly beautiful, just as the people it represented were within its weaves.
Maya walked up to it, careful not to get too close lest she forget and reach out and touch the tap
estry and send herself catapulting back to the future.
She wasn't ready for that choice just yet. She needed more time here with Boyd. If more time with him would ever be enough. Maya already knew it would not be.
Hastened footsteps sounded on the staircase. Maya didn't need to turn to know Boyd was striding up to her. She closed her eyes, reveling in his presence, knowing that no matter what story the tapestry told, Boyd's had changed since that day.
He was with her now. Loved her, she was sure.
"Maya lass. I can explain."
She shook her head, turning to face him. "Were you afraid that I would run up to the tapestry and touch it as soon as I saw it?"
He cringed at her question, and she could almost laugh that perhaps this was a true fear of his.
"Aye, I thought you would want to say your goodbyes to everyone and wish us well sooner than I was ready to part with you."
Her heart ached at his words. Maya reached out, clasping his tunic and pulling him close. "I would never do that. You should know by now that I'm not ready to go yet either."
"Lass..." His eyes held hers, so green and pure like the land. "With everything that has happened to you here, I dinna think you'd want to stay."
"I do not want to go." That she knew without a flicker of doubt. How could she return to her time, go on with her days at this very castle, and not pine for the man she loved who'd lived in it hundreds of years before?
He pulled her away from the tapestry, leading her back to the stairs. They made their way to the solar, Boyd making certain the door was closed and bolted.
"You need to know that the queen will be back. She does not listen to anyone, and with the O’Cain clan breathing down our necks, wanting a war, you are in danger here. I will protect you until the day I die, but I doona want to put you in a position where I have to make that choice."
"The queen has been warned away, Boyd. The woman..." Maya shut her mouth, scared to tell him who the woman was who stood up to the queen. What would Boyd do if he knew she had met Sorcha? Would he ask after his wife? Seek answers that Maya did not have to give him? She didn't want to see him pine for a woman who had been gone for a century.
"Whoever the woman was, she isna as powerful as the queen. All Fae bend to Titania's will."
Maya wasn't so sure. Sorcha certainly seemed willing to test that theory. She shook her head, dismissing Boyd's words. "Not this faery."
He walked around the back of the desk, crossing his arms and facing her. "Nay, lass. They're all the same. They say and do what they're told, always have, and always will. The queen would say anything to keep her people oblivious to her actions. She dislikes me, is not satisfied the hundred years that I have lived without Sorcha is long enough. Now that you are here, and the queen knows how much you mean to me, she'll stop at nothing to make your life hell. To the point that you'll storm upstairs and touch the tapestry without cajoling."
Maya remembered the words from Sorcha. That she was worthy and good for Boyd. No, no one would make her do anything if she did not want to, not even the Fae Queen in charge of another realm.
Boyd would not believe her unless she told him the truth of her time away from him. He would trust Sorcha’s word, even if he were angry over the fact she never returned. "The queen will stay away, and the reason I know this is because Sorcha told me. Ordered the queen to back off in a manner of words. My only threat here is the tapestry and the O’Cains, and you will take care of them." Maya sat on the chair across from Boyd. He'd gone pale as if he'd seen a ghost, and his eyes had taken on a haunted hue. "When I am ready, and not a day before, I shall choose my fate. I will touch the tapestry and return home, and nothing else will force me before then."
Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty Seven
Boyd fought not to react to Maya's statement. How it made his head swim, his stomach tie into knots.
Maya had met Sorcha?
He should have known that with the Fae Queen harassing them as she was, that it was only inevitable that another would step forward and chastise their leader. That it would be Sorcha, he did not expect. He'd not expected Sorcha to be so involved in the Seelie Court. Of course, he'd been wrong before when it came to his wife, what he thought she would do when able, so he really ought not to be so startled.
"You met Sorcha?" After a hundred years of not seeing the only woman he'd ever loved, he had imagined her a figment of the past that he one day hoped would be part of his future.
He wasn't so certain of that anymore.
If Sorcha were to return, what would their marriage be like now? Before the queen had taken her to the Seelie Court, their union had been a happy one. Of laughter and love. She was a fierce warrior, could hold her own in a battle if the need arose, but she was also kind and loving. A gentlewoman. A proper wife.
But a hundred years in the Seelie Court would have to change anyone who ventured there. Boyd could not help but wonder if she, too, had accepted the way of the Fae, embraced her magic and her heritage. As much as he fought not to, he knew that since Maya had walked into his life, he was not the same man he was upon seeing her for the first time.
Over the time she had been here, he had begun to laugh again, to want to go forward, not look back, throw off his curse, and live again, as a man ought. To have a wife, to have children.
The thought of Maya, round and heavy with his child, filled him with a need that overrode all his anger, the resentment he held over what the Fae had done. Over the fact that Sorcha never returned, not even to say goodbye.
He was changing. His hair was evidence of that, slowly with each day it grew darker, more like the reddish brown it once was. No longer as white as the Fae curse had made it.
He couldn't help but hope it was a sign that the curse, too, was waning.
Maya nodded, clasping her hands in her lap. "I did. She was the reason why I was sent back. Had she not reprimanded the queen, I do believe she would have kept me for longer in that realm."
He didn't want to ask about his wife, but he also required closure. To move forward with Maya, he needed to know that Sorcha was content, happy with the choice forced upon her. "Is Sorcha happy?"
The light in Maya's eyes dimmed, and he cursed himself asking the question. He didn't want to hurt Maya. He needed to tell her that he may want to know about Sorcha but that it meant nothing. Not anymore.
Not since Maya had come to be in his life.
"I do believe so," she replied, her voice strained. "I know that's probably not something you want to hear..."
Boyd went to dissuade her of that fact, but she held up her hand, halting his words. "I understand that what we've been doing these last few weeks, before and after my little sojourn to the Seelie Court, was never going to go anywhere. I am destined to return to my time, and you're destined to remain here. I do hope with all my heart that you find someone to break the curse and that you'll be happy. And maybe in a little way, my being here with you has shown you that it's okay to move forward in your life. That you're not breaking any oaths to Sorcha by doing so."
"Maya," he said but stopped when she stood and all but bolted from the room. He stared at the door for several moments before fear curdled his guts. Had Maya gone upstairs? Was she now going to the tapestry to send herself home?
Boyd wrenched himself out of the chair and all but ran to the staircase. His fear over her leaving dissipating somewhat when he caught sight of her gown slipping into the room they shared.
He joined her there, closing the door and snipping the lock. "Maya lass," he said, closing the space between them, not missing that his lady had tears in her pretty blue eyes. "Och, lass, there will be none of that." He kissed her cheek, her nose, her eyes when she closed them, her tears slipped down her face. Boyd wiped them away with his thumbs, kissing her lips. "Maya, do you not understand yet?"
She looked up at him, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. His heart ached, and he knew, to the very core of his soul, that she was the woman w
ho was breaking his curse. She was the one who made him rise each morning, seek to keep his people and his home safe. She was the reason he no longer pined for a wife a hundred years gone.
"Understand what?" she asked, sniffing.
"I doona ask you about Sorcha to upset you, lass. I need to know that Sorcha is well because to move forward, knowing this truth makes my heart free. My heart free to love another."
Maya's eyes widened, and she looked up at him so quickly that her crown almost knocked into his nose.
"What are you saying?"
He grinned, kissing her slowly, showing her precisely what he meant. "I'm saying, lass, that I love you. That to imagine my life without you is a misery worse than death. I will not ask you to stay but know that I want you by my side forever. I doona ever want to lose you."
Maya didn't know what to say. Boyd loved her. She felt nervous and excited at the same time. Along with that also came fear. What would she do? Would she stay, or would she return home? How could she leave him when she knew, beyond any doubt, that she loved him just as much?
"Are you certain? What if Sorcha returns?" she asked, hating the doubt that plagued her even with his heartfelt declaration. "You won't regret your choice?"
He shook his head, throwing her a really? look. "Nay, lass. I will not change my mind, even if Sorcha returned. A hundred years is a long time, and although I haven't been the promptest to realize that what we had, as wonderful as it was, is in the past, I want you," he stated, squeezing her a little. "Only you."
She stared at him, unable to believe that what he was saying was true. Boyd loved her and only her. It was too wonderful for words.
"You doona feel the same?" he stated, his voice hollow when she remained silent.
Oh no, she couldn't have him thinking that. Not when he was so utterly wrong. Maya took a calming breath before she said words that she'd never uttered to anyone else in her life. "I'm in love with you too, Boyd Macleod."