by Donna Grant
“You know me?” Ramsey asked as he walked toward her.
She felt a presence beside her, and somehow wasn’t surprised to find Hayden had moved near her. “I remember you from when you were held prisoner. Deirdre wanted you on her side desperately. She knew your god held great power.”
Ramsey cocked his head to the side as he regarded her. “Galen tells us that you were tortured at Deirdre’s hand.”
Isla was thankful her hand rested on the chair, for her knees nearly buckled. She forced her breathing to remain calm. “And who is Galen?”
“Me,” said a tall Warrior with dark blond hair and deep blue eyes. “I have the power to read minds. I saw into yours when Hayden and Fallon brought you back to the castle.”
Her gut twisted and knotted viciously. To know someone had witnessed the things she had been through left her shaking and cold. “You had no right.”
Galen lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “You were fighting Sonya’s healing. We needed to know why.”
“And so you shared my private hell with everyone?”
“Isla,” Broc said. “Galen told us because he thought it was proof enough for us to trust you.”
She forced a laugh to keep her anger in check. “So, again, my tortures are evidence enough for you to believe me?”
“When I was in the mountain,” Quinn said, “you walked past me in the corridor and I saw blood dripping from your hand. What happened?”
Isla took a step back and slammed into a wall of muscle.
“Easy,” Hayden’s deep voice whispered.
Just knowing it was him behind her gave her a measure of calm, but it didn’t stop the humiliation of them knowing what she had been through. Repeatedly.
With no other choice, Isla smothered her emotions and kept the anger from her voice even as her heart hammered wildly in her chest. “Since you know everything else, there’s no reason not to speak of it. I was punished for disobeying Deirdre.”
“How?” Hayden promoted.
“I…” The knot in Isla’s stomach tightened as she recalled her last punishment from Deirdre. Isla had taken too long in gaining Phelan’s blood for Deirdre. The Warrior’s blood would heal anything, but in Deirdre it only strengthened her evil. “I hesitated to bleed a Warrior. So, I was punished.”
It was too much. Recalling Phelan and the disgust in his eyes for her made her ill. She had kept her dreams and thoughts to herself these last five centuries. To know her mind had been invaded, for whatever reason, was a violation she couldn’t stomach.
Isla needed some time to herself. She spun away from Hayden and walked to the door as if she wasn’t hurting and silently screaming inside. No one stopped her as she opened the door and stepped into the bailey.
*
Hayden held up a hand when Marcail and Broc went to follow her. “Give her some time. She feels as though she’s been invaded.”
Galen set his jaw, his unreadable gaze on the door. “She was. By me.”
“And if she tries to run away?” Fallon asked.
Hayden lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Then Broc can find her.”
Ramsey raised a black brow and asked, “Why do you care about her, Hayden? She is a drough.”
Hayden glared at Ramsey, hating him for daring to speak the very thoughts he himself had. He was having a difficult enough time dealing with his need to kill and protect Isla. He didn’t need the others to know what was going on inside him.
“We need all the information, don’t we? After that, if she still wants to die, I see no reason not to give her what she wants.”
“You cannot be serious?” Cara said, her voice rising in outrage.
Hayden glanced at Cara and shrugged. “Why not? Isla has as much as admitted about the evil inside her. Do you want it infecting this castle? Marcail’s child? Think about that.”
While he thought about why he continued to want to protect Isla. Damn, this was not good. Not good at all.
“I’ll make sure she doesna leave the castle,” Hayden said.
“As will I,” Logan announced and stood.
Together they took the stairs to the battlements. Hayden intended to give Isla the time alone she needed. Besides, he didn’t have anything to say to her.
Logan didn’t utter a word as they walked onto the battlements. They quickly found Isla wandering the bailey as if she were lost in thought.
“Do you believe her?” Logan asked. “About the objects or relics or whatever? Do you think they are really out there?”
Hayden’s gaze followed Isla. Her black hair was drying as it flowed freely about her shoulders and down to her waist thick, glossy, and straight. Her head was bent forward and her hair shielded her face. He wondered what she was thinking.
The admission that they knew of her torture had surprised her. She hadn’t liked that they knew. As to if he believed her, he wasn’t sure.
“She could be telling the truth,” he answered. “I can see Deirdre wanting to keep under lock and key anything that could help — or hurt — her magic. If she had the objects, no one else could use them against her.”
Logan nodded his head, his brown hair falling into his eyes. “I believe her. She was forced to turn drough against her will. Why wouldn’t she want Deirdre dead?”
“Unless she’s as good a liar as Deirdre is.”
Logan snorted. “You’re the one who said you looked into her eyes and knew she spoke the truth about Deirdre being alive. Look into her eyes again.”
That was the problem. Hayden had done just that. He didn’t want to find Isla attractive. He didn’t want to inhale her scent of snow and wild pansies again. But damn him if he didn’t yearn to do both.
What was next? Would he want to kiss her? Bed her? Surely not? Not even her beauty could get him past his aversion to droughs. He knew in the depths of his heart his yearning couldn’t continue.
“She handles herself well,” Logan said. “Despite the questions and stares, she didn’t act frightened.”
Hayden shrugged. “I’m sure she learned that trait while with Deirdre. Deirdre feeds on weakness, Logan. You know that.”
“Exactly. Isla is a strong woman to have endured everything she has. What kind of torture did Deirdre put her through?”
“You doona want to know.” And Hayden wasn’t going to tell him. If Isla wanted Logan to know, then she could tell him what she suffered.
Until then, Hayden would keep what he knew to himself.
SEVEN
Isla walked the perimeter of the bailey and seethed. How could she have allowed herself to become so agitated in front of so many? She had worked decades to be able to hide every emotion only to have everything shredded with just a few words.
Something had changed, and she didn’t like it. She had endured as long as she had by surviving on her wits and ability to hide her feelings. All of that was ruined if she couldn’t control herself around these Warriors.
Isla paused and leaned against the stone wall. It was then she noticed the sky above her. Her breath rushed past her lips as she realized she could stay out in the sunshine for as long as she wanted.
Deirdre had liked to keep Isla deep in the mountain away from the sun and fresh air that mies thrived on. Isla had fought her need to escape Cairn Toul many times. As a drough, she shouldn’t crave light.
“It takes some getting used to.”
Isla’s heart jumped at the sound of Broc’s voice. She hadn’t heard him approach. He must have flown. Those wings of his did come in handy. “What takes getting used to?”
“The freedom. The absence of evil. Deirdre’s hold.”
“Ah, but I have none of those things. I’m still drough. That evil will always be in me.”
Broc clasped his hands behind his back and shrugged. “I think there’s an argument that you aren’t drough.”
Isla didn’t want to have this conversation. Not now. Not ever. “May I leave the castle?”
“Why?”
“I would like to
see the sea.”
Broc started to answer her when the castle door opened and Cara leaned her head out. “It’s time for supper. Hurry before Galen eats it all,” she said with a grin.
Broc rolled his eyes and turned on his heel. “Are you coming?” he asked over his shoulder.
Surprisingly, Isla found that she was hungry again. She pushed off the wall and started to follow Broc when movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. On the battlements were two Warriors watching her. Hayden and another man with brown hair. So, the MacLeods must not trust her, not that she could blame them.
Which meant she would probably not be allowed to leave the castle. She could if she wanted to use her magic, and she would if they continued to hold her against her will. They had until nightfall. After that, she was gone.
Isla didn’t know what she expected when she returned to the hall, but it wasn’t to see the great and feared Warriors laughing and talking while food was being passed around.
It was so different than Deirdre’s Warriors who gorged themselves, acting more like animals instead of the men they were.
“You look surprised,” Quinn said as he walked from the kitchens, a pitcher in his hands.
“I am,” Isla said.
Quinn studied the group a moment. “It’s not the same hall I grew up in, but these men and women are my family now, my clan.”
“After everything that has happened to you, how can you be so pleased with your life?”
“A good woman’s love can change even the angriest of men,” he said with an easy grin. “And I had my brothers. I grew tired of holding all that rage. It was exhausting. Love, on the other hand, can give you strength when you think you have no more, and hope when there is none.”
Isla turned her head to find his pale green eyes watching her. “And your god? Your immortality?”
He blew out a breath. “I battle with the knowledge that if my god cannot be bound once more that I will one day bury my wife. Every time I think of it my stomach sours, but one day with Marcail is worth more than never having her.”
“I never expected such words from you, Quinn. Your brothers maybe, but not you.”
Quinn chuckled. “I’m not the same man I was. I let go of the past. You might want to try that.”
“Enough talking,” Larena said with a wink as she came toward them.
Isla watched with awe and a little jealousy at the way Larena walked with such confidence. Not even being in a tunic and breeches seemed to daunt Larena, or anyone at the castle for that matter.
The female Warrior stopped and smiled down at Isla. Larena was stunning with her golden hair and smoky blue eyes. Combined with her long legs encased in the tight fitting breeches, it was no wonder Fallon couldn’t take his eyes off his elegant wife.
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Larena MacLeod.”
Isla nodded. “Fallon’s wife. Aye, I heard Deirdre speak your name many times over the past few months. I applaud you for eluding her. She was eager to have you on her side.”
Larena rolled her eyes. “Deirdre always wants what isn’t hers. And though I would love to take the credit for evading her, I had help. Now come and sit. There’s plenty of room. Just elbow the men out of the way.”
Isla didn’t want to sit. She couldn’t remember the last time she had shared a meal with anyone. Trepidation filled her. Maybe she should have declined the invitation to join them.
She stared at the two tables placed together to make one long one. There was one chair at the head of the table that Fallon reclined in, a smile on his face as he listened to something Lucan said.
Cara placed loaves of bread at various spots on the table, and Galen was quick to grab one which he kept all to himself. Cara shook her head with a smile and motioned to the empty space beside Galen. “Isla, you can sit here.”
Isla stepped over the bench and sank down beside Galen. He was deep in conversation with Ramsey, who sat across from him. Across from Isla sat Marcail and on Marcail’s right was Quinn.
Cara sat beside Isla with a sigh. “We’re going to need to add more tables if any more Warriors arrive.”
Marcail nodded. “Or Druids.”
Isla sat with her hands in her lap as the trenchers were passed around the table and everyone grabbed what they wanted. To her shock, Galen speared several slices of meat and put them on her plate.
“You need to eat,” he said by way of explanation.
After that, Isla took what she wanted. Conversation filled the hall, easing her muscles and lightening her mood. The food was delicious, but it was everything else that made her long for her village and the laughter she used to share around her family’s table.
Quinn had suggested she let go of the past, but if she did what would she have? Nothing.
“Isla,” Fallon called. “Is Galen keeping his fingers from your trencher? He has a habit of stealing food.”
Galen grunted as he finished drinking and set down his goblet. “I doona take food from a lady, Fallon. However, if she’s full, I’ll be more than happy to finish her meal.”
Everyone laughed, and Isla found herself grinning as well. When was the last time she smiled, truly smiled? And then her gaze clashed with eyes as black as midnight. Her heart skipped a beat as she returned Hayden’s stare, lost in the darkness of his gaze.
She had the insane urge to go to him, to sit beside him and … what? What did she want him to do?
Too many things. None of which I can allow.
It was only when Logan nudged him that Hayden looked away from her. Isla didn’t understand the disappointment that rose within her. Hayden was a dangerous man, a reckless Warrior. She needed to stay as far away from him as she could.
Why then did she find she wanted to be near him?
She looked down at her trencher to see she had eaten nearly everything. For a few heartbeats, she had forgotten who she was and where she had been. She had lived in the moment, and it had been glorious.
“Hayden willna hurt you,” Galen leaned over and whispered.
She looked into Galen’s dark blue eyes and saw his sincerity. “I do not fear Hayden or any Warrior.”
He smiled and nodded. “Nay, I doona believe you do. Does it bother you that Hayden watches you?”
“I gather he doesn’t trust me.”
Galen shrugged and bit into the bread. “It goes deeper than that. He doesna care for droughs.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” she replied with sarcasm.
Galen laughed, causing many to look their way. “You have wit, Isla. I don’t think you should keep it all bottled inside you. Listen to what the MacLeods have to say. We can help.”
If only that were the truth.
All too soon the meal was over. The men rose and left the hall while the MacLeod brothers and a few Warriors remained.
Isla helped the women clear the table. The act of cleaning was not one she had done in ages, but she had never minded it. She and her sister had shared many a good time of washing clothes or the dishes.
With five of them cleaning it didn’t take long before it was finished. Isla was going to return to her chamber to get ready to leave, but when she entered the hall, Quinn called her over.
The brothers hadn’t moved from their seats at the table, and their wives resumed their places beside their husbands. Broc, Sonya, and Galen were also present.
“We’d like to speak with you some more,” Lucan said. “Would you please sit with us?”
A few more moments wouldn’t matter. Besides, she was curious as to what they would say to her. “All right,” Isla said as she lowered herself onto the bench.
She lifted her gaze to the stairwell and the open wall of the corridor above. A man stood there. A man with obsidian eyes and fair hair. A man who watched her constantly.
Somehow, she was glad to know Hayden was there, even if he didn’t like what she was. It was odd, and she couldn’t explain it, but there it was.
�
��First,” Fallon said and leaned his forearms on the table, “I wanted to apologize for letting the others know what Galen discovered when he read your mind. But please understand he didn’t do it maliciously.”
Galen shook his head. “I already told her I did it because we needed to know why she fought Sonya’s healing. I told them she was tortured, but I didn’t tell them specifics.”
“I fought the healing because I wanted and needed to stay weak,” Isla said. She was relieved to know Galen hadn’t seen everything, or if he did, he wisely kept it to himself.
Cara nodded. “To fight against Deirdre’s hold.”
Quinn blew out a breath. “Finding you has given us an advantage over Deirdre. You know so much, Isla. You could help us fight her.”
“And I would,” she told them. “If I’d had a choice, I would never have stayed with Deirdre, never have become drough, and I would have helped you. But I will be more of a hindrance than anything else.”
“You mentioned artifacts,” Fallon said. “Are you sure of what you heard?”
“Of course,” she replied. “I would not lie.”
Sonya raised her fiery brows. “Then why haven’t you told us where to locate it?”
Isla turned to the mie and held her gaze for several long moments before she looked back at Fallon, dismissing Sonya from her mind. “I don’t have an exact location, but an area. It is with a group of Druids so it shouldn’t be too difficult to find.”
“And you’ll share that with us? Freely?” Lucan asked.
Isla almost smiled. She had shocked them. Good. “All that I ask is that once I give you the information I’m allowed to leave.”
Marcail frowned. “But you aren’t a prisoner.”
Isla lifted a shoulder. “I would disagree. I’m healing and my magic is strong again. I can force my way out of the castle, but I’d rather not. You are everyone’s only hope of ending Deirdre for good, and I don’t wish to harm any of you.”
“I believe Isla speaks the truth,” Galen said.
Broc folded his arms over his chest. “As do I.”