Highlander Oath Of The Beast

by Donna Fletcher

  Raven glared at her a minute, then looked to Iver who confirmed with a nod.

  Wolf shook his head. “You were the one responsible for arranging the marriage between me and Raven?”

  “I am,” Detta admitted.

  Raven rushed out of her husband’s arms to where Detta sat. “All this time you knew and you said nothing. You let us wonder, speculate, even worry that it might cause a problem one day.”

  “I knew it wouldn’t—”

  “It wouldn’t?” Raven challenged. “You took a chance with your grandson’s life. I could have been vindictive enough to kill him or he could have killed me.”

  “I knew that wouldn’t happen,” Detta said calmly.

  “How could you know that and why did you do it in the first place?” Wolf asked, standing close to his wife, worried about her.

  “Why don’t I explain it all after you deliver the baby,” Detta said, seeing Raven’s face cringing with pain.

  “AHHHH!” Raven cried bending over and holding her stomach.

  “That’s it you’re going back to bed,” Wolf said.

  “NO!” Raven shouted. “I will not get in bed until she tells me everything.”

  “You’re being stubborn,” Wolf said.

  “When isn’t she?” Arran said with a laugh and pursed his lips when Purity glared at him, having run into the room along with Oria and Wren.

  “Now! Tell me now!” Raven insisted.

  “Tell her and be done with it,” Wolf ordered.

  “My grandson is a strong man and he needed a strong wife and one who would love him. I grew to admire you, Raven, through the years. You fight hard for those you love and, of course, a union between the two of you would bring solidarity between the clans as well as peace. But it was when I remembered your visit here to Learmonth those many years ago that made my decision easier.” Detta smiled. “You climbed benches and tables, and your father had a difficult time keeping you in hand.”

  “That would be Raven, Arran said and received another glare from his wife but a little chuckle from his daughter.

  “Wolf didn’t though,” Detta continued. “He was patient with you, took your hand and showed you how to climb, benches, tables, and whatever else you could find so you wouldn’t fall. After that you followed him everywhere that day and was content to listen to all he taught you. I had never seen my grandson so patient with anyone.”

  “And I never saw Raven listen to anyone as she did to Wolf,” Parlan said, recalling the day. “But he was introduced to me as a merchant’s son and by a different name.”

  “I didn’t let Burnell know who he was. I told him that the lad was the son of the merchant I traveled with. When I told my husband about it, he told me such a determined and stubborn lass would make Wolf a fine wife. I took a chance that he was right and arranged the marriage, making your king and my king think the other had proposed it and that it would benefit them. I knew Raven would never refuse if it meant having her brothers freed and returned home. I was quite impressed when she insisted on others being returned home as well and made provisions to protect her men.”

  Raven shook her head. “I barely remember that day, though I do recall being happy with what the lad had taught me.”

  “Isn’t that the day we found you in the tree?” Royden asked.

  Parlan laughed as he nodded. “When we arrived home, she hurried off to practice her climbing and wound up in a tree—far up in a tree.”

  “I took a chance,” Detta said, looking to Wolf and Raven. “And I’m very glad I did. Your grandfather was right. Raven makes you a fine and loving wife.”

  Raven almost doubled over in pain and Wolf didn’t wait this time, he lifted his wife gently in his arms.

  “The pains come quick,” Raven said.

  “Which means the bairn may arrive sooner than thought,” Wren said as Wolf walked past her to the bedchamber.

  “Do you remember that day?” Raven asked, staring at his face, trying to recall the lad in him that had fascinated her all those years ago. “I do remember thinking how brilliant you were and how much you could teach me. But my da refused to ever take me back to Learmonth again since I had behaved so badly.”

  “I do remember, though your name had slipped from my memory. I thought you so brave for one so young and how quickly you learned what I explained to you. I thought you quite amazing for a little lass and I do recall telling my grandfather about you and what he said to me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me such a fearless, young lass would make a man a good wife. I believe he would be proud that that fearless lass was now my wife.” He kissed her just as another pain hit her.

  Raven cringed, trying not to cry out as she buried her face in the crook of her husband’s neck.

  “I hate seeing you in such pain,” he said, his insides twisting with worry.

  She labored to speak as the pain rolled off. “If you don’t wish to see me in pain it would mean that we can no longer—” She laughed. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Thank the heavens,” Wolf said, laughing himself and placed her on the bed.

  “I believe this bairn is going to come faster than we thought,” Wren said.

  “I’m all for that,” Raven called out.

  “I can stay with you,” Wolf said, sitting on the bed beside her and holding her hand.

  “I appreciate that, but I assure you that I can do this.”

  “I have no doubt you can, wife, and I will await the birth of our son or daughter with great anticipation.” He kissed her cheek and reluctantly left the room.

  It wasn’t more than an hour later that Oria came running into the common room, her face flushed and her eyes wide with excitement.

  “You have a son, Wolf. Give us a few moments and—”

  “Wait! Wait!” a shout came from the bedchamber.

  Worry robbed Oria’s excitement.

  “What’s wrong?” Wolf demanded.

  “Let me find out. I’ll be right back,” Oria said and rushed off.

  Wolf paced, staring down the passageway to the bedchamber door, fighting to remain where he was. It did no good. He had to find out if Raven and his son were all right. He halted abruptly when Oria rushed out of the room toward him.

  Her face was aglow with excitement. “Another bairn. Raven is birthing another bairn.”

  “Twins?” Detta shouted.

  “Aye, twins,” Oria confirmed and rushed off again.

  “You look like you’re about to drop,” Arran said with a grin. “You should sit and pray it’s another son, since I don’t even think God can help you if you have a daughter like Raven. Or maybe you can teach her to climb like you did Raven.”

  Wolf cringed at the thought and dropped down on the end of the bench.

  “You do know we enjoy seeing you suffer, don’t you?” Royden asked with a laugh.

  “At least we got some kind of revenge on you,” Arran said, his grin turning into a laugh.

  Royden boomed with laughter. “A life lasting revenge with no chance of escape.”

  “A daughter! You have a daughter!” Oria shouted as she rushed into the room and Royden and Arran laughed harder.

  Wolf shook his head. “You should be in bed. You birthed two bairns only a few hours ago.”

  “It was much easier than I thought once I got hold of the pain and battled it my way and pushed the two of them out as fast as I could,” she said and grinned, it turning soft when she looked down at the twin bairns sleeping in separate cradles. “They are beautiful.”

  Wolf’s arm went around his wife to ease her back against him and looked with pride on his son and daughter. “That they are. You did a good job, Raven, though your brothers will attend no more births of ours.”

  “They tormented you, didn’t they?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Now you know what I dealt with when young. Arran was the worse.” She grinned. “But you will be happy to know that Purity has some news for him. She
is already with child again.”

  Wolf laughed. “I hope it’s another daughter. He already intends to keep Margaret locked away from all men.”

  “That’s because he thinks of his endless escapades with women, but I think Margaret already fancies a lad. Do you see the way her eyes light up and how she smiles and chuckles when Tait is around? If she’s anything like her aunt or her namesake, she knows full well the man she wants when she first meets him.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever stop shaking my head,” Wolf said. “Arran’s daughter and Brynjar’s son. He’ll never allow it.”

  “Tait is Fyn’s son and will grow into a fine man,” Raven reminded.

  “But would Arran see it that way?” His brow knitted. “Did you know you wanted me when we first met when you were barely five years?”

  Raven turned to face him. “I’ve thought back on that day since reminded of it. I can’t recall what you looked like. I can only recall how excited I was at what you taught me and I remember wishing I could see you again. Time faded that memory, but what didn’t fade was what you taught me.”

  “How to climb,” he said with a laugh.

  “No. You taught me I could be me. You didn’t tell me I couldn’t climb or give me reasons why I shouldn’t. You helped me to climb, showed me I could. You picked me up when I fell and told me to try again. And I did because I knew you’d be there to help me. I loved you that day for it and I love you now for letting me be me.”

  “I’ll always be there to pick you up, Raven. I love you for who you are and I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He kissed her gently.

  She took his hand and led him to the bed. “Your words warm my heart, but we have an important matter to discuss—names for our son and daughter.”

  Wolf pulled the blanket over her once she was in bed. “You have names in mind?”

  “I’ve given it much thought,” she said, turning on her side as he walked around the bed and she pulled the blanket back for him to join her.

  “Tell me,” he said, turning on his side to face her once in bed.

  “I would like to name our son Noble. It is a good name, an honorable one, and a strong one.”

  “I have no objection to that,” Wolf said. “That means I get to name our daughter.”

  “I have a name for her as well.”

  He smiled. “How did I know that? And what name would that be?”

  “A name most fitting for her—Ylva.”

  Wolf stared at her a moment. “That’s a woman’s name meaning wolf in my language.”

  “She will carry her da’s name with pride and strength,” Raven said, then chuckled. “Wisdom as well, since she was wise enough to push her brother out first, making it easier for her to enter the world.”

  Wolf smiled and ran his finger along his wife’s soft cheek. “I would be proud to have her carry my name.”

  Raven slipped into the crook of her husband’s arm, resting her head on his chest. “I kept Brother Noble’s brown cleric robe. Our daughter may need it someday.”

  “Raven!” he warned and she chuckled.

  THE END

  Preview

  Enjoy a sample of Highland Intrigue, the prequel to Highland Intrigue Trilogy!

  Chapter 29

  13th century Scotland

  “Please, my lady, don’t do this, come with me,” Gunna begged, tears running down her full cheeks.

  Tears and determination filled Lady Aila’s eyes and she squeezed the woman’s slim arm. “You have been more than a loyal servant to me, Gunna, you have been a kind and loyal friend. I need that friendship and loyalty now more than ever.”

  “I won’t fail you, my lady. You have my word,” Gunna said, resolve and strength forming with the tilt of her chin.

  Lady Aila smiled softly. “I know you won’t. That is why I tasked you with this dangerous mission. I have faith in you, Gunna, and never forget how grateful I am to you for what you do for me.”

  Gunna’s tears continued to fall. “I wish—”

  “I know. I wish the same.” Lady Aila wiped at the few tears that had escaped her eyes. “Unfortunately, fate has other plans, but I won’t let Fate decide my daughter’s destiny. She will live to decide her own. Now go and do what you must.” She hugged the woman tight and turned away from her.

  Lady Aila fought her tears as she hurried through the castle and when she entered the Great Hall, she gasped. Warriors were placing her husband on one of the tables. She hurried to him.

  Her legs almost failed her when she caught sight of his chest covered with blood. She took his limp hand when she reached his side and she was grateful to feel his fingers close around hers though not with the strength of the mighty warrior he’d always been. “Brochan.”

  His eyes fluttered open and he struggled to speak. “Tell me it is done.”

  “It is done, my love,” she said, resting her cheek next to his.

  Tears filled his eyes, something Aila had never seen in the eight years they had been married.

  “I have always loved you, Aila, and I will miss you.” He struggled to turn his head to kiss her cheek.

  Aila moved her head meeting his lips in a kiss that was bittersweet. “Not for long. I will not be far behind you.” She pressed her fingers to his mouth, seeing him ready to argue. “It must be done. It’s the only way.”

  “If she is half as willful and strong as you, she will survive.”

  “And as brave and fearless as you. I love you, Brochan, always.”

  He fought with what little strength he had left to raise his hand and she helped him, resting his hand against her cheek and placing her hand over it. She held it there tight against her, not caring that it was marred with dirt and blood. She wanted to feel his touch one last time.

  His hand went limp against her cheek and she watched as life faded from his eyes, and she wept.

  “They’re almost here, my lady, you must leave,” a warrior urged.

  She nodded, kissed her husband one last time, and hurried out of the room. She rushed to her bedchamber and grabbed her cloak, then went to the cradle beside the bed and picked up the small, wrapped bundle. Her tears continued to stream down her face as she hurried through the keep.

  Two days. It had been barely two days since she had given birth to their daughter and two days since the Scottish crown ordered the execution of her husband and daughter so that the Clan MacWilliam would be no more. Her husband had bravely fought but it had been a losing battle, and they both knew from the start that it would be. Their only hope had been to save their precious newborn bairn from losing her life before she even had a chance to start it.

  Aila hugged the small bundle to her chest and took quick steps through the keep. Many of the servants had deserted them and the few warriors that remained faithful were fast falling to the enemy’s sword. She had little time.

  She made her way out the back of the keep and around the side. Her boots sunk into the snow on the ground, covering a good portion of them. A sharp chill stung her cheeks, and the gloom of the gray sky that hovered heavily over the village added to her despair. Her only way to the woods was through part of the village. She watched as she waited and saw the last of the MacWilliam warriors fell bravely one after another and when she thought the way clear, she ran.

  A shout echoed through the village. “THERE SHE IS!”

  Another shout followed. “SHE HAS THE BAIRN!”

  Her heartbeat pounded against her chest and she prayed for strength to do what needed to be done. She ran, reaching the edge of the woods, darting around the large pines and barren oaks. The hood of her dark cloak slipped off her head, her long dark hair spilling free. She hugged the bundle tightly to her chest.

  “GET THE BAIRN. KILL HER!” a warrior cried out.

  Warriors suddenly surrounded her. She was trapped, there was no way out.

  “It won’t be long now, Brochan,” she whispered.

  I’m here with you, Aila. You’re not alone.


  The whisper of his voice in her head gave her strength and she raised her chin proudly, standing perfectly still.

  The pounding of horses’ hooves was heard and the circle of men parted. Three warriors, lords in their own right, brought their horses to a stop not far from her.

  “Give her over and we’ll let you live,” the one in the middle commanded.

  She looked to each of them, all three having once claimed to be her husband’s friend. But her husband’s opposition to what the authority of Scottish kings would mean for the Highlands were at odds and so friends became foes.

  “Don’t give your life needlessly, Aila,” the one warrior said.

  Her heart broke at Lochlann’s words. He had been a good friend to her husband and to her.

  “Hand over your daughter,” Lochlann ordered.

  When Aila didn’t obey, a nod from Lochlann had a warrior step forward to rip the bundle from Aila’s arms.

  The warrior shook his head as he tore the bundle apart, nothing but small blankets dropping to the ground.

  “Tell us where she is,” Lochlann commanded.

  “Never,” Aila said.

  “Save yourself from torture, Aila, and tell us where she is,” Lochlann urged.

  “No torture could be worse than the pain I suffer over the loss of my husband and that I will never see my daughter grow into a fine, brave woman. You will never find her. The MacWilliam bloodline will live on.” Aila smiled and before a warrior could reach her, she grabbed the knife she had tucked in the belt at her waist and plunged it into her stomach.

  Lochlann rushed off his horse and went to her, going down beside her where she lay slumped on the ground. He slipped his arm under her shoulders and lifted her some.

  Blood began to dribble from Aila’s mouth. “She’s safe. You’ll never find her. And a curse on the three of you for betraying your friend. May you suffer and never know peace until you right this terrible wrong.” She struggled to continue talking. “But you, Lochlann, will suffer the worst for you were his best friend.”

  Aila smiled as a bolt of lightning suddenly illuminated the night sky and a crack of thunder followed, sounding like an angry roar from the heavens.