Darkest Highlander

by Donna Grant

  How will you do that with the curse?

  Broc didn’t want to think about the curse. Yet, it wouldn’t leave his mind. He clenched his jaw and finished with the rabbit. Then he stood and shook off as much of the rain as he could before he pushed his god down.

  When he walked into the cave his gaze sought out—and found—Sonya. She was asleep on her side, an arm curled beneath her head.

  He didn’t wake her as he set the hare up to roast over the fire. Once that chore was done, he sat back and watched her, watched how the glow of the flames danced over her skin and hair.

  For once, she had left her hair unbound. Hair he longed to run his fingers through. The thick, untamed curls were at odds with the woman who attempted to keep everything in order. If only she would understand that she couldn’t keep life as tidy as she wanted. Then she might see herself as Broc saw her.

  Wild. Wanton.

  His.

  Broc ran a hand over his jaw. He wasn’t surprised he now thought of her as his. He had taken her. Left his mark on her body. It might not be a mark anyone could see, but Broc knew it. And Sonya knew it.

  He had kept his distance from her, never let himself think of her as anything other than someone to watch over.

  He should have known that couldn’t last.

  Not when someone so lovely and alluring tempted him beyond measure. It was wrong to hunger for her as he did, not after the life he had led and the atrocities he hadn’t stopped Deirdre from committing.

  There would be no forgiveness. Broc would have to live with the things he had done. And those he hadn’t.

  It was one of the reasons he fought alongside the MacLeods now. It was his way of trying to atone for some of his sins. The rest … the rest he would carry all the days of his life.

  Sonya’s eyes opened and met his gaze. She smiled, her face softening. “You’ve returned.”

  “Aye. With food, as I promised.”

  She inhaled and rolled to her back. “It smells delicious.”

  Broc fisted his hands as he watched her back arch and her breasts push into the air as she stretched. She yawned and used her hand to help herself sit up.

  “You didn’t find the mound, did you?”

  He shook his head and grimaced. “The mist didna help. If I didna know how temperamental the weather in this region was, I’d say Deirdre had something to do with it.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time she interfered.”

  “She will interfere this time. Never think for an instant that she willna. However, I doona think she’ll do it until she arrives. It’s why we need to find the mound and be gone before then.”

  Not to mention Deirdre now knew there was someone important in his life. It wouldn’t take Deirdre long to realize that someone was Sonya. Deirdre’s arrival would only spur the curse into action.

  Sonya had been lucky to be shielded from the things Deirdre had done, and he wanted it kept that way. Sonya didn’t know what Deirdre looked like. Which was fine with Broc. There were enough of them who knew Deirdre entirely too well.

  “What are you thinking?” Sonya asked.

  “I’m thinking we need the mist to clear,” he lied. “I had hoped by this afternoon we could begin our search again.”

  “So we go out in the mist.”

  Broc scowled and poked at the fire with his stick. “You doona know the terrain, Sonya. I’ll no’ risk it.”

  “It’s my risk. We have to find it, don’t we? The longer we wait, the more time we give Deirdre to arrive.”

  He hated that she was right. Hated more that he couldn’t stop her if he tried.

  But that’s what drew him to Sonya. Her passion and her desire to do whatever was necessary in order to defeat Deirdre.

  Broc just prayed they would find the tomb soon.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Sonya once again wished she had breeches to wear in place of her gown. With the mist surrounding them in the oppressive grayness, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

  “I knew we should have waited,” Broc grumbled from beside her.

  She rolled her eyes and pretended not to hear him. He’d a grip on her arm ever since they’d left the cave. Nothing she said would get him to release her.

  And though she hated to admit it, she was glad he had a hold of her. Twice already she had stumbled over rocks she couldn’t see, and each time he mumbled something underneath his breath she didn’t quite catch.

  “It will get better once we’re off the mountain.”

  Broc grunted in response. “What makes you so sure the mound isna on the mountain?”

  “Would you like to dig through all this rock?”

  There was a long pause before he said, “Nay.”

  “I don’t imagine it was much easier in the valleys, but I cannot think of another place.”

  Her foot slid off the edge of a rock, causing her to tilt away from Broc. In a blink he pulled her against his bare chest to steady her.

  The moment she had felt herself lose her balance, her stomach had dropped to her feet. Sonya listened to the steady beat of his heart while hers hammered in her chest. She clung to him, letting the heat of his skin help to calm her.

  Sonya wanted to lay her head on his chest and forget their dangerous mission. She wanted him to fly her somewhere no one could find them where they could spend days, years locked in each other’s arms with nothing of the world touching them.

  Instead, she took a deep breath and gave herself another moment to enjoy the feel of Broc’s arms around her, holding her. Shielding her.

  “Thank you,” she said, hating how her voice shook. It was probably a short drop. Nothing to be frightened of.

  Or you could have taken a tumble down the mountain.

  Sonya shivered. Broc’s large hand rubbed up and down her back.

  “I should have brought you to MacLeod Castle,” he mumbled against the top of her head.

  “There wasn’t time, remember?” But there was something in his voice, something that told her there was more going on inside his mind than he was telling her. “What is it? What is bothering you?”

  “You nearly fell.”

  She tried to pull back so she could see him, but he held her still. “The rocks are wet. Anyone would slip on them.”

  “Aye. But you’re with me.”

  The more he talked, the more confused she became. “I’m glad you’re here. You caught me before I could tumble down the mountain.”

  He squeezed her tighter. “Shite. Doona remind me.”

  “Broc. Enough. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Silence stretched between them, and Sonya could imagine Broc was trying to find a way out of telling her what had him in knots. But she wasn’t going to allow that.

  Always there had been a part of Broc he’d kept to himself. A secret part. Whatever that was is what was bothering him now, and she knew it had something to do with his life before he turned immortal. Why it would still trouble him after so many decades was the question.

  “Broc?”

  “I’m no’ sure you want to know,” he finally said.

  “You don’t want to tell me.” It wasn’t a question. She could hear it in his voice.

  He blew out a harsh breath. “Nay, but you’ve a right to know since you are with me.”

  She wanted to think he meant that she was his, but she suspected he meant because she was there alone with him. “Please. Tell me.”

  Another sigh. “I’m cursed.”

  She wasn’t sure she heard him right. He couldn’t have said “cursed.” Could he? “Cursed?”

  “Aye. Since I was but a young lad.”

  “How? Why?”

  “The why of it I’m no’ sure. It began when I was eight. A lass drowned after spending time with me. Two years later, when I again took an interest in a girl, the edge of the cliff fell out from beneath her and she plummeted to her death. One died from a mysterious fever that affected no one else. Another got thrown from my horse, w
hich I had trained from a foal. It broke the lass’s neck instantly. There are others as well.”

  Sonya leaned her head back to look at him. “And you believe because of these … accidents you are cursed?”

  “There isna a female I’ve taken an interest in who hasn’t died within months of me spending time with her.”

  “Broc, there has to be another explanation.”

  “There isna. It was my grandmother who realized I was cursed. I thought once my god was released the curse would leave me, but it didna. Anice died. I cannot allow that to happen to you.”

  The feverish gleam in his eyes made her chest constrict with emotion. “I don’t believe in curses. Nor do I believe being with you will bring upon my death.”

  “Sonya—”

  “Nay,” she interrupted him. “I was nearly killed by the wolf. You saved me. I walked into Deirdre’s mountain. You brought me out. Without you, I would be dead.”

  “That was before I could no’ ignore my need for you. Now … now every moment you are with me I risk your life.”

  “Deirdre is coming. She will bring wyrran. She will find us. If you don’t want me to die, then we need to find the tomb before she does. We can discuss this curse later.”

  Broc was as stubborn as they came. She could stand there and argue with him for weeks and she knew he’d never budge in his thinking. So she gave him a reason to forget the curse. For now.

  Deirdre.

  It always worked on the Warriors. She hated to be so devious, but the facts were the facts. Meanwhile, she would show Broc that, curse or not, she wanted him.

  She stepped out of his arms, but this time she was more careful about where she placed her feet. With a smile, she took his hand in hers and together they maneuvered the rocks. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before they were in the valley.

  “We’ll start with this valley first. Which direction?” Broc asked as he looked first one way and then the other.

  Sonya glanced to the right, the way Broc had flown them earlier. “To the left. I suspect if this tomb is so important the Celts made it very difficult to find.”

  “Aye. I’m sure you’ve the right of it. With as many mountains and valleys around us, I fear we’ll be here for a verra long time.”

  “What if someone has already entered the tomb?”

  Broc blew out a harsh breath. “Let’s hope they have no’. It might keep the artifact out of Deirdre’s hands, but it willna put it in ours.”

  Sonya hadn’t thought of that. She stubbed her toe on a rock and bit back a cry of pain. “It would make things much easier if the mist would leave.”

  “Aye.”

  She turned and looked at Broc, but she could only see his outline. She could have sworn she heard laughter in his voice.

  It seemed they walked forever. Searching to no avail. The mist hampered them with every move. They ambled slowly over the land, Sonya’s frustration growing with every passing moment. Until Broc slid into a small indention in the earth.

  For a heartbeat they both grew excited, thinking it might be the entrance to the burial mound. But in the end it was nothing.

  “I doona like this,” Broc grumbled.

  Sonya dusted off her hands and waited for Broc to return his grip to her arm. “You mean not being able to use the power of your god? Do you mean feeling as though you are a mortal again?”

  A short chuckle came from beside her. “Aye. Exactly that.”

  But his grumbling gave her an idea. “Leave me to look for the tomb while you see how close Deirdre is.”

  She expected him to reject her idea immediately. Instead, he stood quietly contemplating her words.

  “What if you encounter trouble?” he asked. “You no longer have a weapon.”

  “The sooner you leave, the sooner you can return.”

  He moved to stand in front of her as his other hand came up to hold her arm. Sonya’s hands rested on his chest as she raised her face to his.

  “I doona want to return and find you hurt in any way.”

  She smiled and nodded, knowing the thought of his supposed curse was making him worry. “I will be here waiting.”

  “Make sure of it.”

  His head came down and his lips fastened on hers. She sank into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her roughly against him.

  The kiss was all ravenous passion and scorching heat. Sonya felt the unquenchable desire that stirred to life between them, the irresistible longing which couldn’t—and wouldn’t—be ignored. She was swept along and engulfed by his urgent, hungry kiss.

  Heat filled her veins, flooded her body. She threaded her fingers in Broc’s blond locks. Her stomach quivered when she heard his low, hungry moan.

  All too soon he broke the kiss and took a step back. The flare of yearning in his eyes and his hard arousal against her stomach only fanned the flames of her desire.

  “Hurry,” she whispered.

  He gave a small, reluctant jerk of his head, and then he was gone with the whooshing beat of his wings. She hadn’t even seen him call up his god.

  Sonya licked her lips and took a deep breath. She was on her own, but she wasn’t afraid. There wasn’t time to be scared.

  She put one foot in front of the other in slow, measured steps. The valley was wide, leaving various places the mound could be. She walked forward, careful of where she was going, but for all she knew the tomb could be right beside her.

  Sonya stopped and put her hands on her hips. She decided to walk from one side of the valley to the other and back again. Sooner or later, in this valley or the next, she would find it.

  An hour later and Sonya had made little progress. She had fallen twice, scraped her hand once, and banged her knee so hard on a rock she knew there would be a bruise. Each time her body had healed her after she had urged her magic. She could feel the steady pulse of her magic growing inside her bit by bit.

  And every time it did, her confidence in herself and her magic grew.

  She cocked her head to the side and closed her eyes to concentrate. There, with the barest of sounds she heard the whisper of trees on the wind. She couldn’t discern what they said because she was too far away, but she heard them. That in itself was enough to bring a smile to her lips.

  Sonya must have walked another half hour when the ground suddenly dropped at a steep angle off to her side. She followed it down, surprised to find there were steps.

  “The burial mound,” she whispered as she stopped in front of a stone door.

  She leaned close to see if something might be etched into the stone, but she didn’t glimpse anything. Time could have eroded the markings, however. She tried to push against the door to open it, but the heavy stone didn’t budge.

  Sonya sank onto the steps and waited for Broc. She bounced her leg and drummed her fingers on her knee. She’d never been good at waiting. Patience wasn’t a virtue that came naturally to her, and she hadn’t tried to cultivate it.

  She didn’t know how long she sat before she heard the sound of Broc’s wings above her. An instant later he was standing before her.

  “I’m not hurt,” she said as she stood.

  He walked down the steps with barely a glance at the door of the tomb. His gaze raked her up and down. “Nay, you are no’.”

  “I found the tomb.”

  “A good thing too.” Broc’s Warrior eyes looked over her head. Gone were his dark, sultry eyes. In their place were ones of the darkest blue covering every inch of his eye, even the whites. Warrior eyes. “Deirdre isna far.”

  “I tried to open the door.”

  Broc nodded and turned to it. He looked around the door and shook his head. “This is a burial mound, but I doona believe it’s the one we’re looking for.”

  “Are you sure?” Sonya wasn’t ready to give up. With Deirdre arriving soon, their time was running out.

  “I’m certain. Deirdre told me about the markings.”

  Sonya took a deep breath and walked up the
steps. “Then we need to keep looking.”

  Broc couldn’t stop the smile as he followed Sonya. Her disappointment was great, but she wasn’t giving up. It was her tenacity which would work to their benefit.

  He knew she was tired, but she was ready to continue. For as long as it took. He followed her as they searched. She had set up a system that seemed to work.

  Thrice more they found burial mounds—mounds he hadn’t seen from the sky, they were so well hidden—but each time they turned out not to be the one they hunted.

  The sun was setting, creating more shadows in the mist and making it even more difficult to see. Broc was half a step behind Sonya when he heard her gasp. He grabbed hold of her arm as he saw her pitch forward, his heart in his throat.

  He pulled her up beside him and just held her. He fought against the instinct to take her far away from him, but then he remembered her argument. If he left now, Deirdre might find the tomb before he returned. He had no choice. For the moment. But he would keep her safe.

  With his speed and enhanced senses, he was better equipped to keep Sonya safe than any before her, save Anice. He’d learned his lesson there, however. He would make sure it was a different outcome with Sonya.

  Broc forced his hands to drop from Sonya. He knelt and peered through the mist inside the hole. “It’s another tomb.”

  “Where are the stairs?” Sonya asked.

  “I doona see any.” He jumped into the indentation and reached up to swing her down beside him.

  Sonya groaned. “I can barely see anything.”

  Fortunately for Broc, he could see as well in the dark as he could in the light. The stairs down to the entrance of the tomb had been taken over by the earth. “This is a verra old burial mound.”

  “Broc.”

  He heard a thread of excitement and apprehension in her voice. “What is it?”

  “Feel,” she said.

  He didn’t need to. He could see what her fingers traced. “Celtic markings.”

  “This is it, isn’t it? We’ve found the tomb.”

  Her face was turned toward him, a huge smile on her lips. Her eyes danced with anticipation as her fingers moved from one marking to the next.