Yours for Eternity

by Alexandra Ivy

  The respite was a short one. Lachann took Osgar up with him and they set out at an easier pace, needing to get to the shelter he had spoken of before the sun rose too high in the sky. Unlike Osgar, Lachann could abide only dawn and dusk but she did not complain. A long stretch of traveling followed by a long stretch of rest suited her better than the several short interludes she had employed. It was a more normal mode of travel even if the times of riding and resting were reversed.

  She frowned as the sun rose and they rode up a slope that had little trail to ride on. When Lachann stopped and moved to the face of the rocky hillside to tug aside a large collection of brush, she frowned as an opening appeared in the rocky hillside. The man signaled her to dismount and she did so cautiously.

  “A cave?” she asked. “Ye wish us to go into a cave? Arenae there animals in such places? Wolves and the like?”

  “There are no animals in there.” He grinned at her. “Afraid of caves, Adeline?”

  “Nay, I am just nay sure I want to spend the day in a cave. They are dark and damp.”

  “They are also shelter from the sun, something both Osgar and I need. And any enemy that tries to attack us must first come through here.” He pointed at the opening, which did not look big enough to let his horse through without pushing the animal’s head down. “Nature’s own fortress.”

  “Are ye certain there are no animals in there?”

  “Verra certain. I can smell the beasties, ye ken, and I smell none. Nay, not even a faint scent of a bat.”

  “Bats?”

  “Get in the cave, Adeline. Trust me, it is safe and clear of all vermin and predators.” Except for me, he thought as he watched her reluctantly urge her nervous ponies through the opening.

  Chapter Four

  Tossing more peat on the fire, Lachann stared at the flames, his thoughts consumed by the death of yet another MacNachton. Outsider women were a curse. They were behind the deaths of far too many of his people, yet there were so few available women at Cambrun that there was no way to stop all the younger men from slipping away to seek them out. They sought mates and children as any man would. Even some of the older men, revealing that age and experience did not always bring wisdom. Arailt had been a good man. He had not deserved the fate dealt him by the greedy, heartless Anne. He had been robbed not only of his life but of the chance to see his child, a blessed gift too few MacNachtons were given, grow to be a man.

  He was pulled from his dark thoughts by Adeline appearing at his side, a bowl of rabbit stew in her hand. Lachann had been so lost in his sorrow he had not even seen her dish it out from the pot hanging over the fire. With a nod, he took the bowl from her, as well as the crude wooden spoon she offered, and began to eat. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as she sat down next to him.

  “I am sorry ye have lost a friend,” she said. “Were ye close?”

  “Nay. He was older than I.” Lachann resisted the urge to tell her that Arailt had been a good thirty years older than his own tender age of nine and twenty. “’Tis just that too many are dying and all because they trust in some Outsider wench.” He was not surprised to see her scowl and wondered why he goaded her. Perhaps, he mused, he needed to hear her defend herself, to remind him that she was not like the others.

  “Are ye waiting for me to betray ye then? To turn ye over to the verra men who hunt me and Osgar?” Adeline could hear her anger over his mistrust in her voice but saw no need to hide the fact that he insulted her with it.

  “Nay, and I cannae think why. Ye are an Outsider.”

  “I think I have guessed what ye mean by that but, mayhap, ye can tell me just what is an Outsider?”

  “One who isnae of the MacNachton clan, of MacNachton blood.”

  “How verra nice. Nay a friendly lot, are ye?”

  “And why should we be friendly? ‘Tis the friendly ones who are being slaughtered, the ones who try to live outside of Cambrun, to mix with the Outsiders and be accepted by you. And now we have the Hunters.”

  Adeline sighed. “Ye dinnae need to remind me. There were men hunting Osgar, too.”

  “Aye, and their numbers keep growing. ‘Tis why we are all searching for the Lost Ones.”

  “And the Lost Ones are like Osgar?” He nodded. “And the men who chase us and want to kill him are called the Hunters? A name and nay just a word for what they are doing?”

  “Aye. We call them that. I dinnae ken what they call themselves. Some grand pretentious name, nay doubt, as they all claim they are doing God’s work. And, aye, Osgar is a Lost One, one born of an Outsider and a MacNachton but who was nay brought into the clan. Many dinnae e’en ken that there are others like them. That is, if they survive long enough to think on the matter. I suspicion Osgar isnae the first of his kind to be set out in the wood to die.”

  Adeline shivered, her mind suddenly choked with the image of innocent children like Osgar tossed aside because they were different. She knew babes were discarded, especially if a family was too poor to feed another child or the babe was born with some deformity, but it was one of those tragedies of life she had given little thought to, would not allow herself to think about. Having seen what had been done to Osgar made it hard to continue to ignore such harsh realities. It took her several moments to remind herself that she could not save them all, could not possibly find where and when such innocents were set aside to die. She had saved Osgar and would certainly save any other child she might find. That had to be enough.

  “Are there any of Arailt’s kinsmen, or women, left at Cambrun?” she asked, wanting Osgar to find family at his new home yet terrified of losing him.

  “One. An aunt, but she is old,” replied Lachann after he swallowed the last of his meal. “I dinnae think she will be able to care for such a young lad, although she will be glad to ken that one of her blood still survives. She will grieve for Arailt but she was fair certain he was dead when a year passed with no word or sight of him.”

  Lachann could read the fear on her face even though he knew she thought she was hiding it. She was worried about losing the boy yet she did not slow in her journey to take him to his clan, to people who could protect him better than she could. He opened his mouth to reassure her and quickly closed it again.

  Now was not the time to offer assurances he might not be able to fulfill. Cambrun was not a place many Outsiders would wish to stay at. Nor was he certain he wanted her to stay there. His hunger for her grew stronger with each hour he spent in her company, but he had seen too much tragedy result from the pairing of Outsiders and MacNachtons to risk putting himself in such a position without a great deal of thought.

  “Have ye saved many Lost Ones?” she asked.

  “Nay enough. I dinnae care to think on how many were lost to us forever.” He shook his head. “I ken of far too many who left Cambrun and ne’er returned, too. The saddest thing is that we need new blood; we need Outsiders. Yet too many who try to join with one end up like Arailt.”

  “Why do ye need us? ‘Tis odd that ye would claim a need for people ye dinnae trust.”

  “Our people, the full-blooded MacNachtons, the Purebloods, cannae conceive. We have wed amongst our own for too long. The only ones born to the clan now are ones born of a mating between a MacNachton and an Outsider.” A harsh laugh escaped him. “So there is a fine choice for us, aye? We die when we stay outside of Cambrun to find a mate and we die if we dinnae. We just do it a wee bit more slowly.”

  Adeline could think of nothing to say to dispute that or comfort him, so she asked, “Are ye a Pureblood?”

  “Nay. There is some Outsider blood in me that came through my mother. My great-grandsire brought it into the family, I believe. Unlike too many of the old ones, he actually kept an eye out for any child he might have bred on a woman and fetched it home. The reason we have Lost Ones is that too many of our men didnae do that. Why should they have? They didnae think they could breed children. It wasnae until one of our clan began to record everything he could about the clan
and we found a Lost One that we realized we could breed a child, just nay with anyone of strong MacNachton blood. The man making the records bred one himself.”

  Such a sad tale, she thought as she inched a little closer to the warmth of the fire. The cave they sheltered in was surprisingly well supplied but it was still a dank, cold hole in the rocks and that cold damp had sunk into her bones. So had the sadness, that hint of hopelessness, behind Lachann’s words. Adeline did not understand why the MacNachtons were as they were, but they were God’s creatures. It did not seem right that they faced such a bleak future, that their search for a mate, for children to carry on their name, too often brought them only death. It was such a simple wish, one shared by most people.

  Then again, she mused, their differences made them a threat. She did not know the full extent of those differences but life with Osgar and her brief time with Lachann gave her a good idea of many of them. The need to drink blood was, of a certainty, the most alarming. She could easily understand how that could breed fear in people. That feral look both Osgar and Lachann got, those sharp fangs, only added to that fear. It revealed the predator under the skin. So too did Lachann appear to be a lot stronger and faster than other men. Those traits alone were enough to turn people against them but she suspected there were others. The only weakness she knew of was how they needed to avoid the sun. It was one that could be used as a weapon against them.

  “But ye are safe at Cambrun, aye? And Osgar will be safe?”

  “As safe as anyone can be and he will be cherished as all of our children are.”

  Adeline nodded. It broke her heart to even think of leaving Osgar, but she would force herself to do it. Lachann had still not said that she had to leave once they reached Cambrun but he had not invited her to stay, either. She ached to ask him if she could, but bit back the words. If Lachann’s attitude toward those who were not of his clan was any indication, she might well find herself a very unwanted guest. She had already had a bellyful of being an outcast.

  Deciding she could not think of that or she might grab Osgar and try to run far away, she turned her thoughts to the need to wash before she sought her bed next to a sleeping Osgar. A glance around the cave told her there was no privacy to be had yet she desperately wanted to wash away the smell of pony. She was going to have to trust Lachann to be a gentleman. It was either that or go to her rough bed smelling like her pony and she could not abide the thought of that.

  “I need to wash,” she said and looked at him. “Can I trust ye to keep your eyes on the fire?” She blushed when he quirked one dark brow at her. “There is nary a spot in this cave where I can wash in privacy but I need to rid myself of the smell of pony.”

  Lachann nodded. “I will keep my gaze upon the fire.” He smiled faintly. “Mayhap ye can save some of that water ye have heated for me.”

  “Aye, I will.”

  She quickly grabbed the heavy pot she had set by the fire to warm the water and gathered up what she needed to wash and to don fresh linen. The guilt she felt over using so much of the little water she had brought was easily banished. Adeline was sure she would be able to refill her small water keg soon.

  The back of the cave was shrouded in shadows where the light from the fire did not reach. Adeline chose that spot for her wash, sighing a little over how meager a wash it would be. After a glance over her shoulder showed her that Lachann was staring at the fire as he had promised, she began to shed her clothes.

  Lachann managed to hold to his word even as he heard her clothing drop. It was when he heard the silvery rustle of the water and the soft sighs she made as she washed that his control broke. Cautiously he turned his head just enough to see her out of the corner of his eye and caught his breath so quickly and sharply he nearly coughed and gave himself away.

  Adeline might be small and slender, but she was womanly enough to tempt a saint, and he was no saint. Her hips were nicely curved, her buttocks taut and round, perfect for a man to grasp hold of as he loved her. Each time she bent to dampen the cloth she washed with, he could see the curve of her breasts, plump, round breasts with the nipples taut from the faintly chill air in the cave. His mouth watered with the need to taste them. Her skin was pale, glistening faintly where it was wet, and unmarked. She was beautiful, temptation on two long, slender legs.

  He turned his gaze fully back to the fire. His whole body ached with the need to go over there and touch her, touch that skin, and trace every womanly curve. It was going to take a while for him to rid his body of all the obvious signs of that need. It had been a mistake to sneak a peek like some untried lad just starting to be fascinated with women, he decided. The sight of her naked, of her slim, womanly beauty, was going to haunt him for a very long time.

  By the time she rejoined him by the fire, Lachann was once again in control of his body. He frowned a little as he saw that her hair was wet. “Ye washed your hair?”

  Adeline blushed. “I but rinsed it off in the pot. It wasnae easy, but I didnae wish to use all the water, so it seemed the only way to keep my word that there would be warm water for you and my hair would be cleaned. I left the rag to wash with and the drying cloth over there. The water was still warm but I could reheat it a little if ye wish.”

  “Nay. ‘Tis enough that it isnae as cold as the water in a loch or stream.” He stood up and grinned down at her. “I willnae make ye promise to keep your eyes on the fire. Look your fill if ye want.” He laughed when she glared at him and then turned her head to firmly stare into the fire.

  A moment later, Adeline decided that the man was making a lot of noise on purpose. He was even singing softly to himself. She was trying to forget his words but hearing him shedding his clothes, knowing he was standing there naked, made it impossible. Look your fill if you want, he had said. Adeline was ashamed to admit that she did want to look her fill but the very last thing she wanted was for him to see her do so.

  As carefully as she could, she moved her head only enough to see him out of the corner of her eye, using the brushing of her damp hair as a shield for any movement he might perceive. She drew her breath in hard, but as softly as she could when she saw him. He looked a big, strong man in his clothes; without them he looked like some ancient god the pagans worshipped.

  His back was broad and unscarred, the taut, smooth muscles moving gracefully as he washed himself. If asked before this moment, Adeline would have heartily denied seeing any fascination in the sight of a man’s backside. But one look at Lachann’s well-shaped rump had her swallowing hard. His legs were long and strong yet not thick with muscle. When he turned slightly to rub the washing rag over his belly, she saw his manhood. It was not nestled in the thick hair at his groin as the few she had glimpsed in the past when tending to sick men, but long, rigid, and standing slightly out from his body.

  Quickly returning her gaze to the fire, even though she did not really see it, Adeline prayed she had not gasped. She had certainly felt like doing so. And why, she wondered, did the sight of Lachann MacNachton naked make her so warm, so unsteady in heart and limb? She was trembling as if she had walked about naked in the snow yet not because she was cold. In fact, if she did not shake the image of him from her mind, she would not be surprised if she started sweating.

  A few deep, slow breaths later, Adeline was calmer. She knew she would not be able to forget what Lachann looked like beneath his clothes but she was confident that she could hide the knowledge she had just gained. Then he strolled over to sit down beside her and her heart leapt up into her throat. He was sitting too close. The heat of his body was infecting her, seeping into her blood. She set her brush down and clenched her hands in her lap, fighting against the urge to touch the smooth skin she had just seen. She wondered if she could move away without looking like a fool.

  Lachann grinned at the pale flush on Adeline’s cheeks. He had known she was looking at him. It troubled him a little that knowing she was had excited him, sent desire burning through his veins. That had never happened befor
e. Lachann was not sure he liked it. It was a weakness and could be used against him. A small voice in his head whispered that Adeline would never play such games but he silenced it.

  He leaned closer to her, inhaling the clean scent of her. “Ye peeked,” he said softly, idly wondering what she would do if he licked her delicate ear.

  “Nay, I didnae,” she hastily denied and was not surprised when he laughed, the heat of his breath against her ear making her shiver.

  “Aye, ye did. I could tell.”

  She turned her head to try and deny his accusation again, only to find their faces so close their noses touched. “Ye are a vain mon to think that a lass couldnae stare at a fire rather than at ye. I was brushing my hair.”

  “And glorious hair it is.” He reached out and ran his fingers through the thick tendrils of her hair, fascinated by how the light of the fire made the red of her hair glow. “A delight to the eye.”

  “’Tis a witch’s hair.”

  “Nay. That is naught but foolish superstition. Just because it carries all the brightness and color of fire doesnae mean ‘tis hellborn.”

  The gentle stroke of his hands in her hair made Adeline’s heart beat so fast she feared it could burst. He was so close to her, his golden eyes warm and intense. If she leaned just a little bit closer she could touch her mouth to his, could taste him. Just as she began to push that wild thought out of her mind, he leaned closer to her. The moment he touched his lips to hers, she was lost in a maelstrom of sensations and emotions she had never felt before, nor fully understood. Her only clear thought was dinnae stop.

  The voice of caution told Lachann to pull away. He ignored it. He threaded his fingers through her thick, soft hair and held her face close to his as he kissed her. Her lips were soft and warm, and he quickly grew unsatisfied with the gentle kiss they shared. He nudged at her mouth with his tongue and after a brief hesitation she parted her lips. The soft murmur of delight that escaped her as he explored the inner heat of her mouth was sweet music to his ears.