Brennus (Immortal Highlander, Clan Skaraven Book 1): A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Hazel Hunter

  His way was to drive her to climax with his torturous rubbing shaft, she thought, and dragged in a steadying breath. “Maybe you should chain me.”

  “I think on it.” He pulled her hair away from her neck and tasted her skin there. “No’ with chains, but silk laces.” He barely moved against her now, the ridge of his cockhead working back and forth over her clit. “I think on having you kneel before me, your pretty mouth open for me.” He nuzzled her ear. “Some night would you take me thus, Althea? As I watch you do it?”

  “Only if you don’t tie my hands.” She felt the need like fever now. It was going to burn her alive. “I want them on you too.”

  Brennus reached between their sexes to work his satiny bulb into the clenching ellipse of her softness. Once he had pushed in until she enveloped his cockhead, he clamped an arm around her waist and skewered her with his shaft.

  “When McAra spoke of making you his bedding wench, I near snapped his neck,” he said, his voice taking on a dark edge. “No man facks you but me, Althea.”

  His jealousy scared her a little, but it also gave her a fierce satisfaction. “Same here. No bedding wenches for you–” She lost the rest of it in a cry of delight as he stroked in and out of her. “Oh, Brennus. Oh, finally.”

  “Aye, I ken how you crave this.” He drove into her deeper, slowing his thrusts as she tightened around him. “As do I.”

  Her breasts bounced from the force of his pumping, relentless cock, and Althea cried out as the drenching, throbbing core of her need billowed around him. He must have felt it, for he lifted her off her feet and worked her on his shaft, driving her sex over him as he plowed deep.

  Althea whimpered, trying not to scream, but he sensed that too. His hand clamped over her mouth as he told her, “Squeeze me again with your quim. Bite my flesh. Do as I tell you, Althea.”

  She drove her teeth into his hand and gripped his cock, and her body stiffened as her climax ripped through her. She heard him mutter low, rough words against her ear as he fucked her through the explosions of sensation. Then, somehow, she was falling, and Brennus was on top of her on the bed, still pumping between her thighs, still pounding her spasming pussy. The cabinet around them began to rock and squeak, but Althea couldn’t stop him. She writhed under him, pinned between his hard body and her own needs, which flared up as if she’d never come. Then it came again, bliss atop bliss, and she flung her arms around his neck as she brought his panting mouth down to hers.

  His muscles bunched and stretched under her touch once, twice, and then he shook all over as he pulsed inside her. The jets of his seed bathed her from within, soft and warm and wet, and when he collapsed on her she held him as tightly as she could.

  “No, don’t do that,” she whispered when he shifted as if he meant to roll away. “I want you right here.”

  Brennus lifted his head to kiss her brow, sighing against it before he looked into her eyes. “You would kill that little laird in bed.”

  “That’s your fault. You’ve reset my standards to impossible.” She didn’t want to move again, but dawn wasn’t that far away. That thought also reminded her of the conversation they needed to have about the future, their future, but this wasn’t the right time for that, either. “But we can’t sleep like this. It’ll be a replay of last night, when I had my way with you three, no, four times.”

  Gently he withdrew from her, and tugged back the coverlet to drape it over their hot, damp bodies. As he gathered her against his side, he said, “’Twill be well, Althea. I promise you.”

  “I know.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek over his ink, drifting off a moment later.

  The sound of footsteps dragged her awake, and she sat up to see Brennus still sleeping beside her. He’d kicked off the coverlet, and stretched out, taking up most of the bed.

  Even immortal medieval warriors were bed hogs, she thought, and smothered a yawn. That was when she spotted two shadows moving through the light coming under the door from the hall.

  Wrapping the coverlet around her, she went to the door and removed the chair in order to peek out. In the passage Cadeyrn was walking down the length of the hall, only to turn and walk back toward her.

  Althea slipped out of the chamber and gently closed the door before she regarded him. “What are you doing out here?”

  “My duty,” he said drily. “I dinnae fall asleep if I walk, my lady. Go back to bed. ’Twill soon be dawn.”

  “Brennus didn’t order you to stand guard. We’re fine. Go to bed yourself.” When he shook his head she beckoned to him and moved to the end of the hall. “Brennus wanted to kill the laird for just talking about bedding me. If anyone comes in our room who isn’t Skaraven, they’re going to die. Badly. You don’t have to do this.” From his stony expression he didn’t agree. “I’ve got this all wrong. Okay, why are you standing guard?”

  “’Twas my turn.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Taran, Ruadri and I stand guard each night outside the chieftain’s chamber. Some others as well.” He met her gaze. “’Tis to protect you, my lady. To be ready should you call out or scream.”

  “But Brennus is right there and he would…oh, no.” She took a step back from him. “You haven’t just been standing guard. You’ve been eavesdropping.”

  “’Twas plain to us that you and the chieftain…” He stopped and then tried again. “We didnae listen at the door. We’ve only been ready to break in and pull him away if need be.”

  “You thought he was going to hurt me.” Her eyes widened. “In bed.”

  Cadeyrn looked as uncomfortable as she felt now. “The chieftain told you about the pleasure lasses brought to us. ’Tis all we ken of females. We worried he wouldnae…be proper and gentle with you.”

  “Well, he is. And when he’s not, I like that too. Forget I said that.” She rubbed her forehead and dropped her arm. “Cade, I know you have good intentions, and I’m the first woman you’ve ever talked to, but you’re wrong. Brennus would cut off his own arm before he hurt me. Also, what he and I do in private is really none of your business.” A thought occurred to her. “This is why you were so angry with him this morning. Why you tried to warn me later.”

  He nodded slowly. “’Twas meant kindly, my lady.” He glanced at the chamber door. “Do you still wish to return to the future?”

  “For what? He’s here. I love him.” Until this moment she hadn’t consciously decided that, or realized how deeply she felt about Brennus. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Cadeyrn stunned her by enveloping her in his arms and giving her a hard hug. Immediately he stepped back. “I’ll find my bed now.”

  Althea watched him walk down and disappear into another chamber. “Mercy, does this mean I have to have a talk with the entire clan?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  AT DAWN THE Skaraven arrived en masse at the McAra stronghold, and assembled outside the huge stables as their new mounts were brought out. Taran thankfully remembered to bring Althea a change of clothes from her carryall, but once she’d dressed Brennus came in with a stack of oddly-shaped iron plates.

  “The storm will arrive within the hour.” He put the iron down on the bed and brought the biggest piece over to her. “I had Kanyth fashion these for you.”

  As he loosened some straps attached to the sides and top of the plate she realized what it was. “You had him make armor for me?”

  “You arenae immortal, Althea. A single blade thrust can end you.” He tried to put it over her and scowled as she sidestepped him. “Come here.”

  “Stay there. Now, imagine a blade coming at me.” She picked up a smaller piece of the armor. “I touch it.” She froze the iron, and let it drop to the floor. It shattered like glass. “Any questions?”

  Brennus tossed the chest plate onto the bed, and put on his chieftain glower. “I’ll have you taken back to Dun Mor and held there until we return with them.”

  “Held there? You couldn’t even keep me in the eagalsloc.” She saw his frustration and wen
t to him. “I know the map isn’t accurate enough, but I’ll remember the location of the barn when I’m there. Besides, the other women need to see a familiar face when we grab them, or they’ll freak out. You know I’m not helpless, and I can protect myself. Also, I have the awesome freezing power, which may come in handy. I’m going with you.”

  Though the glower had left, he was clearly far from convinced. His brow furrowed, but he nodded.

  “Then you go as my lady.” He pulled the leather lacing from the top of his tunic, and took off his clan ring, which he slid onto the lacing. “Mine to love, and to wed, as soon as we return to Dun Mor.”

  Once he tied it around her neck, she caressed the gleaming black ring. “So you do want me to stay in the fourteenth century.”

  “I want you with me.” He tipped up her chin. “I must remain here with my brethren.”

  “Okay.” His reaction made her grin. “I decided to stay last night, while I was talking to Cade out in the hall, and no, I’m not going to tell you about that. We have helpless women to rescue, Chieftain. Come on.”

  Once outside the castle Althea saw the approaching storm spreading like a dark cancer on the horizon. As the giants’ encampment lay due west, they’d be in very rough weather when they emerged from the lochan.

  “Chieftain, there’s lightning in those clouds,” she heard Kanyth say to Brennus, and looked over to see the Weapons Master’s worried expression. “You’ll recall how much it likes me. Mayhap I should go ahead of the clan.”

  The chieftain shook his head. “Ride at the rear, Ka.” He caught Althea’s gaze. “Kanyth’s power also draws lighting. ’Tis been striking him since boyhood.”

  “I didn’t even know Kanyth had a power,” she pointed out. “We have a lot to talk about when we get back.”

  “Oh, aye,” he said, and gave her temple a kiss.

  They walked over to the stables, where the clan greeted them with smiles and nods. They’d already gone into battle-silent mode, Althea decided, which wasn’t a bad thing. A lot of chatter right now would be distracting.

  “Fair morning, pretty lass,” Althea said and patted the nose of the mare that the McAra had hand-picked for her. Brennus helped her up into the small saddle, which felt stiff and unyielding but fit her bottom well enough. “Are you sure you can handle taking me and two horses through the water by yourself?”

  “I’ll take your other arm, my lady,” Cadeyrn said. “Just to be safe.”

  The McAra had come up with the solution to keeping the mounts from being spooked by the clan’s water-traveling, and now came to hand her the wide leather browband to attach to her mare’s bridle.

  “Remember, my lady, fasten the band to the center stud on the cheekpieces before you enter the loch,” Maddock told her. “’Twill cover her eyes completely.”

  She glanced over at the other Skaraven, who had tucked identical browbands in their belts. “My thanks, my lord.”

  “Gods speed.” He turned to Brennus. “If the Skaraven dinnae return, Chieftain, the McAra shall take up your cause.”

  Brennus clasped forearms with him. “Consult the druids if you do. They’ve the power you’ll need.”

  Althea hadn’t ridden a horse since she’d sold her uncle’s farm, but the familiar rocking rhythm quickly came back to her. It also helped that the mare had an almost liquid gait, and legs long enough to keep up with Brennus and Cadeyrn’s bigger mounts.

  They halted at the shore of the loch, with the clan forming a single line behind them. Althea fit the browband to her mare’s bridle and urged her into the shallows.

  Brennus and Cadeyrn took hold of her as they transformed and submerged with all three horses. Althea held her breath and hung onto the reins. The mare tensed under her as bubbling light rose around them.

  Streaming through the water on a horse felt much scarier than in Brennus’s arms, but a few seconds later the men surfaced and guided her and their horses out of the lochan.

  Icy wind and needle-sharp rain pelted them as they rode out into the storm. Overhead white-hot veins streaked through the swollen clouds, followed by a rumbling boom of thunder.

  Their mounts skittered until they removed the browbands, which helped calm the horses. One by one the clan came riding out of the water, shedding their transformations as they joined the chieftain.

  Cadeyrn and Ruadri rode a few yards ahead, scanning the forest before they trotted back to Brennus.

  “I sense no spell traps or wards,” the shaman said as he wiped the rain from his face. “’Tis some magic deep within the woods, but ’twould be from the farm.”

  Cadeyrn pointed to the north side of the forest. “The far trail offers more protection. We should ride and take cover at a vantage point to scout them.”

  The chieftain nodded, and signaled to the rest of the clan, who assembled into three long ranks. The archers among them also carried buckets attached to their saddles.

  “What are those for?” Althea asked.

  “A surprise for our wood friends,” Brennus replied quickly before taking up position in front.

  The other men drew their swords and held them ready as they guided their mounts with one hand.

  Riding into the dark forest put Althea’s nerves on edge, as if dozens of hidden eyes watched them. The frigid rain had also soaked through her clothes, chilling her to the bone. Yet she saw no sign of the giants, and hoped that they would hold onto the element of surprise. Now all she had to do was recognize the way.

  Brennus shifted his horse in front of hers, and Ruadri came up to flank her with Cadeyrn. She turned her head to smile at the shaman, and saw one of the trees beside him sprout two eyes and a snarling mouth.

  “Ru, watch out,” she shouted.

  She wheeled her mare about, cutting of the shaman as she reached for the giant with her hands. Though the air temperature dropped, the giant sidestepped her. She urged her mare forward.

  “Althea, no!” she heard Brennus shout.

  A hard blow from behind knocked her to the ground, where she was dragged by her leg into the brush. She screamed as she saw all the trees lining the trail attack Brennus and the clan, but a huge wooden hand slammed into her jaw, and she blacked out.

  “Maybe we could negotiate with them,” Rowan said as she peered out of the wooden slats. “I’ll offer to babysit the really batshit one, and out of extreme gratitude they’ll let us go back to the barn.”

  Emeline sighed. “Rowan, please.”

  “We’re never going back to the bloody barn,” Lily muttered.

  Rowan silently agreed with her, not that she’d admit it out loud. No, she had to keep everyone’s spirits up, because in a few days they were either going to die of exposure, starvation, dehydration, or all three. Since Hendry had started leaving on his three or four day trips away from the farm, they had to depend on the guards or Murdina for rations. Since the uglies hated them, and the druidess had gone almost completely cuckoo’s nest, rations came very infrequently. At one point they’d had to eat snow for water.

  Ochd sometimes brought them oatcakes, which he passed to Rowan when none of the other guards could see. He always said the same thing too: “Hide. Dinnae let Coig see.”

  She shared everything with the other women, but Perrin barely touched hers and Emeline’s jaw was so sore she was having trouble chewing.

  That was thanks to Coig, who had been the most inventive guard at Camp Seriously Crazy. Now and then, probably out of psycho boredom, he would come over to poke sticks in the cage to try to jab them. He was good at it. They all had big ugly bruises from his efforts. Lily had once grabbed the stick and jerked it out of his hand, but he’d just opened the cage, dragged her out and took it from her. Then he’d beaten her until the stick broke.

  Coig also liked beating them—a lot. If Hendry left him behind and took the other, reasonably sane guards, by the third day he’d haul one of them out and chase them around, beating their legs, punching them in the face, or tossing them into something. If they
didn’t try to get away he’d beat them unconscious. Either way, once he’d had his fun he’d put them back and later claim to the druids that they’d try to escape.

  For some reason he never took Rowan out of the cage. She’d even offered to take Perrin’s place for one of his beatdowns, but Coig just ignored her.

  Things had gone from bad to worse, but she knew they were never going to get better. If Rowan didn’t figure a way to get back to the barn, she was pretty sure Coig was going to kill them while they were not trying to escape.

  Emeline sat up and looked over at the trail. “Someone’s coming.”

  Althea came to as she was dragged across the muddy ground between the farmhouse and the barn. Ochd jerked her to her feet, and tied her arms behind a tall, burned oak trunk. She grimaced as the guard wrapped rough burlap around her hands before binding her wrists.

  Wearing a sodden cloak and holding a gleaming scythe, Murdina walked up to her and held the curved blade under her nose. “Foolish wench. When we learned you’d betrayed us to those Skaraven bastarts, we removed the wards from the forest, and put them on the lochan.”

  She could see the biggest of the guards now, trudging through the mud toward a huge wooden cage. Inside were the four other women, huddled together and looking much more battered than they had when she’d escaped. Her heart ached to see how gaunt Perrin had grown, and the bruises on Lily and Emeline. Rowan appeared to be in the best shape, but she had a wild look in her eyes as she stared back at Althea.

  “Bring them to me, Dha,” Murdina called.

  He opened one end of the cage and reached in. The women tried to avoid his hand by scattering to the back, but he tossed out Emeline and Perrin, and then locked in Rowan and Lily.

  A hard slap made Althea stare at the crazy druidess, who a moment later caressed her throbbing cheek.

  “Poor lass, you’ve had such an ordeal. Did those brutes rape you? Their masters never permitted them near any female unless they wore chains, or so Hendry said. I’ll help you get revenge on them.” She beckoned to Dha, who hauled Emeline and Perrin over to her, and shoved them to their knees. “I dinnae care for rain. Make it snow.”