Loki's Christmas Story

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Loki's Christmas Story Page 6

by Keira Montclair


  Ranulf had taught her what love could be, how special it could be to be held by a man, to feel worshipped, to love another through your body.

  To feel.

  She wanted that again, but with a man who would not turn daft over revenge and greed. She wanted a simple life, a safe haven to raise her daughter away from cruelty and leering gazes.

  Did such a place exist?

  She’d let Fergus go, fearful he would be like nearly every other man she’d ever met, but the dreams stayed with her…they argued that she’d been wrong to send him away. That this was a mistake she would not stop regretting. A loud sound caught her attention. After glancing to be sure Raina still slept, she moved to the window in the back of the house and pulled the fur back to see what had made the noise. If it was a wild animal, perhaps her screams would reach Fergus’s ears before he was too far away.

  She peeked out of the window, shocked to see Fergus had found an axe and felled a tree.

  The man was a beast. He’d stripped down to his tunic and plaid, though how he could withstand the cold, she knew not. She watched him lift the axe over his head and bring it down on the tree in one smooth move, the muscles in his back rippling with every effort and movement he made. The lines of his body could be seen through his tunic. Och, how she wished to reach out and remove his tunic so she could watch him in his glory—all strength and brawn, the cords in his neck even standing out with each swing of the tool.

  From where she stood, she could see the fine sheen of sweat bead up and trickle down the side of his face. An unexpected thought surfaced in her head. She could stop it from dripping onto his tunic by catching it with her tongue.

  A small moan escaped her lips, and somehow he heard her. Spinning around, he lifted the axe over his head as if to strike an enemy down, only to drop it to the ground upon seeing her.

  He stared at her, but she couldn’t move. A paralyzing moment stretched between the two of them until she dropped the fur and reached for the back door, flinging it open. He reached her in two steps, the heat of his gaze and his body drawing her to him until her hands cupped his face and she whispered, “Love me.”

  He took her in his arms and kissed her, a searing kiss that woke her entire body up, rousing a rippling need that had long since died. Passion coursed through her with such persuasive power that she gave in, allowing it to take over her thoughts. She ran her hands over his muscular body, dropped his plaid to the floor and tugged at his tunic until he removed it and flung it off to the side. He lifted her and carried her to the bed, standing her up long enough to remove her gown and chemise before lowering her to the bed and covering her with his body.

  His hands moved to her breasts as he moaned, lifting one mound to take it into his mouth, suckling her nipple until she cried out. He raked his teeth across the sensitive peak and she thought she’d climax right then, but he played with her a bit longer, his hand settling between her legs until he found her slick entrance.

  She touched him everywhere she could, reveling in the hardness of his body, finally reaching for his cock and settling it between her legs.

  “Now,” she gasped. He entered her swiftly, plunging into her again and again, pausing just once.

  “I knew we would be wonderful together. I knew it.” He kissed a trail up her neck before he took her lips in his, ravaging her with his tongue.

  He kept the rhythm up, and she nudged his hip just a bit to get him exactly where she wanted him. His response was to reach down and caress her nub, causing her to cry out as she climaxed, her legs spreading wide with a need she still didn’t understand but didn’t fight.

  He clutched her hips and came with a roar, her name on his lips moments later as he did his best to calm his panting.

  “I love you, Davina,” he declared as he nuzzled her neck, his breath still hitching. He kissed her forehead and whispered, “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I know you’re the only woman for me. I promise to love you and protect you forever. Please give us a chance.”

  Her hands still clutched his shoulders as she rocked him just a bit more, locking him inside her woman’s place, not wanting their moment to end.

  Then she gazed up at him and said, “I’ll try.” Her fingers caressed his bottom lip, then fingered his beard.

  He nodded and said, “That’s all I ask.”

  With a coldness that even surprised herself, she whispered, “Fair warning to you. If you ever hit me or my daughter, I’ll take a blade to you in the middle of the night.”

  The man just never stopped. He kissed her forehead. “I would take a blade to myself before that would ever happen.”

  The faintest glimmer of hope lightened her heart.

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning, Loki motioned to Father Bor to meet him outside the chamber while Kenzie still slept. They moved down to the main room of the inn, the smell of baking bread causing his mouth to water. “A quick word, Bor.”

  “What is it, Loki? You still wish to head home straight away?”

  “Aye, but I must speak with you before Kenzie awakens.”

  “What is it?”

  “May we adopt Amice? Kenzie has taken a liking to the lass, and so have I.”

  “What? You are serious about this?” The old man rubbed the whiskers on his chin, staring intently at him. “She is quite young.”

  “Aye. Kenzie thinks, and do not take offense at this, but he thinks she needs a mama. His mama to be exact.”

  “Well, I cannot argue with the lad over that. A wee lass does need a mother, and Bestla has too many to fuss over just one. I normally don’t take in bairns as young as Ami, but how could I turn her away?”

  “Which church did you find her at? Do you know aught about her background?” He gave the innkeeper an order for their table, expecting Kenzie to join them shortly.

  “Both parents are dead, the mother from a fever and the father shortly afterward from a fall from his horse.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “It was the priest from your fath…” Bor stopped abruptly, changing the subject. “I just stopped at the kirk and she was there.”

  Loki’s heart sped up. The man had almost said, “your father,” Loki was sure of it. But how did he know aught about Loki’s father?

  The door opened and Kenzie bolted into the room. “I’m so hungry, Papa. The bread smells delicious.”

  “Sit down, lad. I just ordered bread and porridge for all of us.” He made himself calm down, knowing he could not ask any more questions in front of the lad.

  But he’d be asking Bor quite a few more questions once they arrived back at his cottage. Could Bor know something about how he had arrived in Ayr?

  He vowed not to leave without answers.

  * * *

  They arrived back at Bor’s place before midday. Kenzie had spent a good amount of time checking to make sure his packages did not fall to the ground. Once they stepped inside, several of the children rushed up to Bor, concerned expressions on their wee faces.

  “What is it?” Bor glanced over their heads to look at Bestla, who tipped her head toward a small pallet set up not far from the hearth.

  The child on the pallet struggled to get up, her eyes brightening when she saw Kenzie.

  Loki noticed who it was at about the same time his son ran in that direction.

  “Wee Amice has taken the fever, Bor. Naught I do calms her. She is so fretful… I fear for her terribly.”

  The poor lass shed tears, but little sound came from her, though a small grating sob came eventually. Kenzie picked her up and settled onto the floor next to the hearth. She leaned over his shoulder, clutching him, and fell fast asleep.

  “Papa, she feels like fire,” Kenzie said, his voice shaking with fear. “Her whole body burns.”

  Loki turned to Bestla and Bor, whose expressions were pained as they stared at the two on the floor. “We could take her to Cameron land. My aunt Jennie is one of the best healers in the land. She’ll
know what to do.”

  “How far is that?” Bestla asked.

  “Mayhap a day’s journey,” Loki replied.

  “Nay, nay, she’d never survive it. She’s too weak to begin with. The child must eat to fight sickness.” The poor woman kneaded her hands in front of her. “Kenzie, keep her warm.”

  “She’s too warm already.”

  “There must be something we can do to help her. Kenzie, you’ve had the fever before,” Loki said. “What do Aunt Caralyn, Aunt Jennie, and Aunt Maddie all say about the fever?”

  “Drink. Aunt Jennie told Uncle Alex to drink and drink when he got the fever. He didn’t want to drink and she told him she’d sit on him until he drank more.” He giggled. “I thought ‘twas funny. She tried to climb on him and he pushed her away, but then he drank.”

  “He lived?” Bestla asked.

  “Aye, he’s the Grant laird. He lived and he’s still fighting with his sword.”

  “I’ll get more goat’s milk for her.” She rushed out the door.

  Kenzie called after them. “Aunt Jennie said it did not matter what he drank, but he had to keep drinking all the time.”

  Once she returned with a jug of milk, Loki said, “Kenzie, I must speak with Bor for a moment. Will you stay with Ami for a wee bit?”

  The lad nodded and then turned back to his charge, clearly taking his job quite seriously.

  “Bor, may I speak with you outside?”

  “Of course.” Bor led the way out the door and, instead of stopping, walked into the nearby forest, continuing on until he came to a clearing.

  He turned around, giving Loki a pointed look, but Loki had no idea what the old man wanted from him. His gaze scanned the area, a small clearing surrounded by trees on all sides. Strangely enough, something pulled to him, so he walked the perimeter without any prompting from Bor, finally stopping at a tree with multiple cut marks across it. It looked as if someone had attempted to cut it down and failed. A stump was not far from it, so he sat down, staring at the tree as visions peppered his mind.

  A young lad.

  An axe.

  Tears.

  Screams.

  Howling pain—the kind of pain no healer could cure, the kind that would dig at you every day.

  Every day until you wanted to quit, run away, give up.

  “Do you recall anything about that tree, Lucas?”

  Tears flooded his eyes as it all came back to him, flitting bits and pieces of memory tugging their way out of the recesses in his mind. “You called me Lucas. You know my true sire.”

  Bor stood with his hands behind his back. “I did, and I do. Tell me what you remember.”

  Loki stared at the tree and a young lad popped in front of him, a lad angry at the world, swinging an axe at the tree over and over and over again.

  The lad screamed and screamed, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…”

  Loki stared at Bor through his tears. “Who did I hate so badly?”

  “Your father, or the man you believed to be your father, and another man.”

  He jumped up from the tree stump as the memories returned in full. “I was angry with my father. I hated him. He wasn’t truly my father, but I didn’t know it then. I tried to save my mother from a beating…”

  “Instead your father and his helper beat you.”

  “Aye. That man, Hamish, threw me in a wagon and took me away. I recalled this before…he tossed me out of the wagon expecting me to die, but I didn’t.”

  “Nay, you were stronger than they expected you to be. You fought hard, crawled on your hands and knees until someone found you.” Bor stood unmoving, his hands still behind his back.

  “You. ‘Twas you who found me.” Memories of a burly, bearded man with a smile and kind eyes flooded back to him. Bor had climbed off his horse and lifted him up, giving him water and telling him he’d not die. “You saved me, brought me to Ayr.”

  “I did bring you to Ayr, but you’d already saved yourself. I then brought you here to live with us. Even in this place, your desire for vengeance ate at your insides. Do you remember?”

  Loki’s eyes widened. “I do.” He paced in a circle. “I wanted to kill Hamish. Hamish and Blackett, the rat bastard who beat my mother and pretended to be my sire. Only he wasn’t. He killed my mother, I’m sure of it.”

  “Probably. You wished to find them and make them pay. I’d hoped you would lose some of your anger if I allowed you to swing at that tree, but it never helped, until one day…”

  Loki held his hand up. “Saints above, I remember. Allow me. I swung and swung, and one day, I was so angry that I told you I didn’t want to be called Lucas anymore.”

  “Aye, you believed it tied you to Blackett, that he’d chosen the name for you.”

  “I hated him, so it ate at my insides…but…” So much had returned, but it still didn’t all fit together. “I wanted a new name. You told me tales of the Norse gods and goddesses, and I wanted to be just like Loki.”

  “Aye, you wished to be the wee trickster, and you vowed you’d become one of the largest and fiercest warriors in all the land so that you could return one day to kill Blackett and Hamish. According to your true sire, you did just that.”

  “I did. Blackett tricked me first, but good triumphed over evil that day. I hated those rat bastards.”

  “Did you defeat them alone?”

  Loki settled back on the stump. “Nay, only with the help of my adoptive family, Clan Grant, and our allies, the Ramsays.”

  “I doubt the Grants and Ramsays come together for just anyone, do they?”

  He dipped his head, thinking of how fortunate he’d been to run into Brodie Grant and Fergus’s sire, Nicol. “Nay, they do not. But how did you know my true sire?”

  “I met him not long ago. There are not many men who have one blue eye and one green. I asked him about you, and sure enough, he was your sire. He thanked me for picking you up from the ground where I found you.”

  “I remember everything, but why couldn’t I recall it before? I don’t understand.” He rested his head in his hands, trying to work this new information into the tapestry of his life.

  “Because the last day you were out here swinging, you lost your balance and hit your head on a rock. It knocked you out. When you awakened, you would only answer to Loki, and you left for Ayr the next day. That’s all I can tell you. As you said to Kenzie, the mind protects itself when it must.”

  “I had several dreams about you recently…as did my son. Why? You are the caretaker of lost children. Why would I start dreaming about you now?”

  Bor grinned. “Och, I can only thank the angels for that. I’m not sure I believe in them, but I was desperate to contact you, and I prayed for them to bring you to me.”

  “Why?” Loki stood up to face the old man, just now noticing how tired his eyes were, how the color of his skin had a slight yellowish cast.

  Bor took a deep breath and let it out slowly, shifting his gaze from his feet back up to Loki’s eyes. “Because I’ll not be of this world much longer. I seek to find someone to take on my work, to keep searching for the lost souls, the weak bairns, the orphaned. Your sire told me you had your own castle, and I’d hoped you could help me.”

  “You want me to take all the bairns home with me now?” Loki was in shock, not sure if he could do this without first talking with his sweet Bella.

  “Nay, please do not take them from me now. Bestla would be devastated. I’m not leaving yet, and you still have a challenge or two ahead of you, but I was hoping I could send a messenger to you when my time was near. And I would ask that you travel to Ayr and Edinburgh once or twice a year to find the newest lost souls, bring them to a warm home.”

  Loki nodded, thinking about his proposition. He knew there were many generous souls at Grant land who would gladly help him. His mother, Gracie, Kyla, Ashlyn and Magnus, Aline, and so many more. He had plenty of room in his keep, and needed to build his own people to add to the might of Clan Grant. “I
’d be happy to, if you’ll allow us to take Ami with us. ‘Twould break Kenzie’s heart to leave without her. We’ll wait to leave until she’s well enough to make the journey, of course.”

  “I can agree to that. I do not wish to lose another bairn.” His sadness changed as the ends of his lips curved up ever so slightly. “So you’ll come when I send a message?”

  He nodded, but a voice from behind interrupted him.

  “I’ll help you, if you’ll have me. I cannot bear to think of children living alone in the cold, hungry.”

  He stood, spinning around to find Fergus and Davina Buchan behind him.

  “Davina? Davina Buchan?”

  Fergus nodded. “We met at the abbey before Kyla’s wedding. I’ve been searching for her ever since she left the abbey.”

  Davina nodded with tears in her eyes, a wee lassie attached to her hip. “I want to help the bairns. The lost souls deserve a home.” She glanced at the floor as if ashamed of something. “I’ve been lost for a while, and I’m not proud of my past.”

  Bor said, “What’s important is what happens now, not what happened in the past.”

  “That is, if you’ll accept me on your land, my lord,” she said to Loki. “I know I would not be welcomed by any of the Ramsays, but Kyla once told me I would be welcome on Grant land…and mayhap it would be better if I lived on your land, that is, if you’d have me.”

  Fergus said, “I’ve asked Davina to marry me, and she has accepted on the condition that we wait two moons before we marry.”

  Kenzie burst into the clearing. “Say aye, Papa. We’re already a land of orphans. Nearly all of us have lost parents, and we belong in Castle Curanta.” Kenzie hopped from one foot to the other. “‘Tis why I dreamed about Father Bor, Papa. The lost souls will need a new place soon. ‘Twill be our place.”

  “Aye,” Loki said with a grin, patting his son on the head. “I see you all have valid points. I must discuss this with Bella and then the laird of Clan Grant, but I think ‘twill work.”

 

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