Untamed Highlander ds-4

by Donna Grant

  “I was. I came out here last night to think, and I must have fallen asleep.”

  The way Ian watched her she knew he didn’t believe a word she said, but he didn’t press the issue. He straightened and held out his hand. “It is time to break our fast.”

  She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. Her body ached from being in the same position for so long, but anything was better than her nightmare. She led the way out of the cottage surprised to find the sun higher than she anticipated.

  “Fallon asked that I escort you from now on. That is, if it’s all right with you.”

  She glanced up at him and smiled, the urge to tease overtaking her. “I think you’re the perfect person. After all, you have already attacked me.”

  He threw back his head and laughed heartily. Isla inhaled the fresh Highland sea air, grateful that she was no longer at Cairn Toul.

  “I didn’t see you in time,” Ian said when he stopped chuckling. “I was focused on the wyrran.”

  “I know.” And she did. She didn’t hold it against him. “Are you in favor of being my shadow?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not averse to it, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Did Fallon tell you everything?”

  Ian glanced at her, no hint of laughter on his face. “He told me you requested death if Deirdre does take your mind.”

  She halted and turned to face him. “You’ll know if it happens. The pain is overwhelming. I have a few moments before she takes over where I know what’s going on. You’ll have to do it as soon as I tell you.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good.” She let out a sigh.

  They had begun walking again when Ian asked, “How does Hayden feel about me taking his place?”

  The mention of Hayden brought back the ache that had been with her most of the night. “I’m confident he could care less.”

  “I’m not so sure. You didn’t see his face when he attacked me.”

  “I saw it,” she interrupted him. She’d seen it all too well.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Deirdre gasped as the last of her energy vanished. She’d had Isla! If only she’d been able to talk to her. Deirdre didn’t know where Isla was yet, but it would only be a matter of time before she found her.

  The use of her magic to try and contact Isla had been great, and Deirdre would pay for it for several days to come. She’d been trying for hours, and then finally she’d located Isla.

  Only to lose her a moment later.

  “If I had my full magic, Isla would be mine again,” Deirdre said to herself.

  Deirdre knew she should have waited until Dunmore returned with a Druid, but she’d had to know if Isla was dead. Now that she knew her greatest weapon was still alive, once Deirdre’s magic had been restored she could rain down her wrath on the MacLeods and all who were loyal to them.

  Before she could begin to plan on exactly how she would rip each MacLeod apart, five wyrran walked into her chamber. Deirdre motioned to them with unseen hands, but somehow the creatures saw her.

  They halted before her, their yellow eyes lifted to where her face would be if she had a body. She smiled down at them. She still recalled the first wyrran she created. It had been the most lovely, frightening thing she had ever seen. They still were.

  And they were hers. No one else could rule them. Only her.

  “What did you find?” she asked them inside their minds.

  They shook their hairless heads, their thin lips peeled back over the mouthful of large teeth.

  “You didn’t see Isla?”

  Again, a shake of their heads.

  Deirdre had known Isla wouldn’t be with the MacLeods. Where she was, though, was another concern, but one Deirdre would hopefully discover soon.

  It didn’t matter how far Isla had traveled. Deirdre would summon her back to her side, and Isla would have no choice but to do as commanded. There was nothing Isla could do to break the connection Deirdre shared with her.

  Oh, Deirdre knew Isla had tried several times, but nothing could stop Deirdre’s magic. It was too strong and backed by diabhul himself.

  Deirdre waved the wyrran away. She had planning to do. By the time Dunmore arrived with her Druid sacrifice, Deirdre would have everything set in place for her revenge.

  She’d been a fool to think she could convince the MacLeods to align with her. With their deaths she would get some satisfaction. She would also have their women, women they had kept from Deirdre’s use.

  No more would she allow anyone to go against her in such a fashion. From now on, death awaited anyone who did not ally with her or who betrayed her.

  Deirdre smiled. Nothing could stop her now.

  Hayden waded into the sea and dove into an oncoming wave. As soon as the water engulfed him, he felt the solace of it. It soothed, it caressed, it cradled.

  He swam far from shore, fighting against the currents that had swept weaker men to their deaths. He knew the instant he swam through Isla’s shield. Her magic sang around him for a moment, blinding him with desire that left his body renewed and his cock aching, and then was gone.

  Hayden came up for air once he passed through the shield. The wondrous feel of Isla’s magic had faded once he was through the shield. He found he missed it, missed the way it hummed around him and tantalized his body. Just as before when he turned and looked, there was no castle atop the cliffs.

  He gulped in a lungful of air and dove straight down in an effort to forget Isla and how she had complicated his life. He dove lower than he’d ever gone before. The water crackled in his ears and the pressure pushed against him, but still he continued.

  When he could go no farther, he swam out to the side, lazily surveying the sights. He let his eyes take in the murky depths of the sea and the life that lived below the surface. Fish of all sizes and colors. Seaweed that swayed with the currents. Dolphins playing in the distance, and even some seals.

  With his god he was able to hold his breath much longer than a mortal man. There were times Hayden had wished he could breathe under water. He chuckled, bubbles exploding past his lips to rise to the surface.

  He remembered as a young lad his mother telling him stories about the mermaids who lived in the sea. Even then Hayden had wished he could live under the surface.

  Mermaids or not, it was a completely different world than the one on land.

  Hayden knew he should be helping the others rebuilding the cottages, but he couldn’t chance running into Isla just yet. He needed to get himself under control or he just might start another fight with Ian.

  As much as he hated to admit it, it was the cold hard pit of jealousy that iced his veins when he thought of Ian with Isla. It was ridiculous, this resentment, but as his mother used to say: “You cannot help the way you feel, Hayden.”

  He wished he could change his feelings on the matter, and with some solitude and control, Hayden could.

  When he could hold his breath no longer, he surged to the surface. He shook his head to get the hair from his eyes. Already he felt better. Water had always done that for him.

  So did being in Isla’s arms.

  Hayden cursed and slapped his hand atop the water. Just when he thought he had some semblance of control, he’d think of Isla.

  He needed a longer swim, he surmised. But no matter how deep he dove, no matter how far he swam, the image of Isla’s ice-blue eyes and her long, straight black hair would not leave him. Just as the feel of her body, the slick passage of her sex as he thrust inside her, wouldn’t let him forget.

  Hayden finally gave up. No amount of denial on his part would erase his feelings for Isla. And they were feelings, strong feelings.

  Now that he had hurt her horribly he realized just how deep his feelings went. The things he had done, the things he had said no small apology could remove.

  What was worse was that Hayden feared she might never forgive him.

  With a deep sigh he started back to shore. When he came to Isla’s
shield he paused in the middle of it. His skin tingled with the magic, and his senses, already enhanced, seemed to surge to new heights.

  It baffled him how he could be affected by her magic so. Neither Sonya’s, nor Cara’s, nor Marcail’s did anything to him. He felt their magic surely as any Warrior did, but not in the way he did with Isla’s.

  Hayden entered the shield and caught sight of the great MacLeod Castle. It was imposing in its grandeur, striking in its design.

  The pale stone that made up the castle, four towers, the sawtooth merlons and crenels, and the massive gatehouse had seen much, yet still the stones stood intact, even if some were crumbling, waiting to give shelter to those who sought it.

  Hayden stepped onto shore and tilted his head all the way back to see the castle. His home now. His family. Why then did he feel like the outsider?

  Isla paused with her hands deep in the earth of Cara’s garden. She sank her fingers into the ground to till it up before she planted the new seed.

  She didn’t know how she would feel having Ian with her at all times, but so far it was working out all right. He gave her space, but she knew he was always near, always watching. Just as with now he stood off to the side.

  Isla wanted to ask him how he fared since Deirdre’s torture of him. It was obvious his twin, Duncan, was having a difficult time of it. Of course, it might be worse for Duncan since he had been helpless to do anything for Ian.

  She should have helped Ian. She should have done so many other things, but she’d been a coward. Marcail called her strong, but Isla knew the truth. It was fear that kept her from going against Deirdre, even when she knew Grania and Lavena were lost to her forever. Isla still hadn’t had the courage to break way.

  If anyone could have given her freedom it would have been Phelan. He hated her enough that had she asked, she knew he would have taken her head. It would have ended everything.

  But she wouldn’t have tasted passion. She wouldn’t have had Hayden.

  Isla snorted. As if she’d ever had Hayden. Hayden was no one’s. He was a loner, a man who wanted and needed no one. How had she come to find herself wanting him so desperately?

  She moved to the next spot and sunk her hands into the dirt. Her mother’s magic had been greatest when she was next to the earth as Isla was now.

  Isla had always found it amazing that each Druid found that special connection in different places with different things.

  She had offered to help Cara to stay out of the village and therefore away from Hayden. She wasn’t ready to see him yet. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to see him again. He stirred feelings too deep, made her long for things she couldn’t have.

  Every time Isla was near him she could think of nothing but him. For her own sanity, she decided against her present course of action.

  If Ian, Cara, or anyone else suspected why she was in the garden, no one said a word. Which Isla was eternally grateful.

  “You’re a natural,” Cara said with glee as she inspected Isla’s work.

  Isla shrugged and rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. “My mother’s magic was like yours. She found her greatest pleasure in the earth. She thought mine might be like hers, so she often had me with her.”

  “I wish my mother had stayed alive so I could have learned the Druid ways as you did.”

  Isla sat back on her heels and turned her face up to the sun. “Spells are learned, Cara, but who you are, the magic that makes you a Druid, has always been inside you, guiding you. You just needed to learn to listen to it.”

  “Ah, but listening to it when for nearly a score of years I didn’t isn’t as easy as you might think.”

  Isla smiled and looked at Cara. “Nay, I cannot imagine it is. You seem to be coming along nicely.”

  “I have help,” Cara said with a wink. “I’m also a quick learner.”

  “That certainly comes in handy.” Isla rose and dusted off her hands after planting the last seed.

  Cara’s head cocked to the side, her dark brown eyes gazing thoughtfully at Isla. “Where is the source of your magic? The place where you feel its power the most?”

  In all her five hundred or so years Isla had never found that source. Until she had stepped into the sea at MacLeod Castle. She recalled that day with clarity. How her magic had sharpened, how everything had seemed to come together in a rightness and calmness that surprised even her.

  “The sea,” she answered. “It’s the sea.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we live next to it, aye?” Cara said with a grin. “You don’t happen to hear the trees talk like Sonya, do you?”

  Isla shook her head. “I’ve heard of Druids being able to do that. It’s a rare gift Sonya has.”

  “So is her healing. I’ve come to truly understand how wonderful the Druids are. And to think Deirdre is killing them.”

  Isla removed the dirt under her fingernails on one hand with the fingernail of her other. “For every Druid Deirdre kills, one turns from our ways. We are a dying breed, Cara. I fear that one day none of us will exist at all.”

  “What will Deirdre do for power once all the Druids are dead? Won’t she need them still?”

  “It was a question I posed to her as well. I thought if she realized how quickly she was killing them that she might allow more to live.”

  Cara’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “That’s not what happened is it?”

  “Nay. Deirdre explained to me that it was her goal to slay all the Druids. I would be the last to be killed.”

  “Why?” Cara asked and threw her hands up. “I don’t understand.”

  “If there are no Druids, no one would be able to challenge her.”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “No one has yet. What makes her think there would ever come a time that it happened?”

  “The droughs might be more powerful alone, Cara, but if a group of mies ever got together and focused their power against Deirdre they could destroy her. Or they could have. We’re past that now, I believe.”

  “There are too few of us left,” Cara said sadly.

  “Once Deirdre has consumed the magic of every Druid, she will be unstoppable.”

  Ian leaned a shoulder against the kitchen wall and snorted. “And here I thought she was already unstoppable. We couldn’t kill her.”

  Isla looked from Cara to Ian and back again. “But we did slow her down. If that can be done to her, there has to be a way to kill her.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Isla hoped she was right. Deirdre had more power than any Druid had thought imaginable. Not even the droughs had expected her to gain that kind of powerful black magic.

  Isla had seen for herself the envy other droughs had of Deirdre. In the early years the droughs could have easily destroyed Deirdre, but their fatal flaw was that they never worked with other Druids. So they had allowed Deirdre’s power to grow.

  The mies had expected the droughs to take care of Deirdre. And when that didn’t occurr the mies, who should have banded together and killed Deirdre, decided to hide instead.

  Isla couldn’t blame either side. She wondered if the decision had been hers to make what she would have done. She’d like to think she would stand up to Deirdre, but she had failed to do that in the past.

  Ian and Cara’s conversation turned to the other Druids, but Isla caught sight of something more interesting emerging from the sea.

  She moved toward the edge of the cliff and the path that led to the beach. Her eyes were fastened on Hayden. Her mouth went dry and her heart quickened at the sight of his stunning body, the hard muscles, the bronze skin.

  He was perfectly made, perfectly beautiful. A man any woman would want in her bed. She had felt his mouth, his hands on her skin, knew how they could tease her.

  She had held his rod in her hands, felt it fill her, knew the joy of having him thrust inside her. She had touched his muscles, felt them flex beneath her hand, knew the places on his body that brought him to his knees.

  Isla drew in a shaky br
eath as her nipples hardened just thinking of Hayden. She folded her arms at her waist and watched him shake the water from his fair locks.

  He stood nude, unabashed in his body. Her eyes drank him in, ever hungry for more.

  “The longing on your face tells me there is most definitely something between you and Hayden.”

  Isla stiffened when Ian walked up beside her. She glanced at Ian to see him twirl a long stem of grass between his teeth. She thought to lie to him again but decided against it. It wouldn’t do her any good.

  “I doona know him well,” Ian continued. “But what I do know of Hayden is that he often reacts before he thinks. He’s the kind of man you want by your side in a battle, the kind who would never leave a friend behind.”

  “He is all of that.”

  “Like any Warrior I know, his past holds him. It is why he acts the way he does, why he chooses to be alone.”

  Isla cut her eyes to Ian. “Are you defending him?”

  His face scrunched up. “Nay. I’m merely pointing out that what he said in the hall the other morning might have been done rashly.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  Though she wanted to believe it was. Her heart hurt the more she watched Hayden on the beach. He tugged his saffron shirt over his head and reached for his kilt.

  “Hayden’s hatred for droughs goes very deep. He has every right to detest us. It was droughs who killed his family.”

  Ian shrugged. “I’m not so sure you should include yourself as a drough. You battled the evil inside you and won.”

  She turned to face Ian then, no longer able to look at Hayden without feeling as if a hole was in her chest. “I am what I am, Ian. Nothing can change that, no matter how I wish it otherwise.”

  “Sonya took your Demon’s Kiss and you never asked for it back.”

  “What does that prove?” she asked in frustration. “It was empty anyway.”

  Ian’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. “Do you want us to treat you as a drough? Do you want us to think every word out of your mouth is a lie?”