Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson Book 2)

by Joanne Wadsworth

  Cast aside?

  Dinnae cast aside that which is freely given, for your happiness is all I seek.

  Nessa’s words reverberated through her mind and she gasped, clutched a hand to her mouth.

  “What is it?” Tor demanded.

  “’Tis a firm answer to a question from my godmother’s prophecy.” The bond was freely given and Nessa had told her not to cast it aside. So too she’d said, Always look to your heart, and trust only the man to whom you truly desire.

  Who did she truly desire? Donnan was a man who could never steal her heart, nor bring her a lifetime of pain should she ever lose him in a battle. Losing Tor would cripple her. He held the other half of her soul, just as she now held the other half of his. Desire him, she already did, had for some weeks, not that she’d allowed herself to acknowledge it until this moment. She’d pushed those feelings deep down, told herself she found him intriguing and naught else. What a lie. Every time he’d been near, it had been impossible not to touch him in some way, and so too he’d been as free with his affections as she had been with hers. Little touches here and there. Whispered conversations during the evening meal in the great hall. Walks in the forest or along the shoreline once the sun had set and the moon had risen. She’d missed him these past three days, wished only for him to return from the village. In a way, it had hurt that he’d even left. Stupid, dratted bond. ’Twas an impossible thing, only she’d been overlooking what was right before her eyes and now she no longer could.

  Shoulders slumped, she gave into the truth, squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Tor. I’ve been ignoring what was right before my eyes and shouldnae have.”

  “You’re not the only one. So have I.” He leaned in, touched his forehead to hers. “I’ve been driven toward you time and time again since my arrival but because of your betrothal, I’ve kept myself from accepting what was right before my eyes. Now I no longer can. The full moon doesn’t lie, and neither does the truth I see so glaringly well now. You are my chosen one. Allow me to court you, Layla, to show you the truth within my heart. There is no woman I would rather have at my side than you. I’d also like to ask that you spend this night with me, right here in this cavern, just the two of us. We need the time together. Only us.”

  Could she? Should she? The answer came to her lips before she could hold it back. “Aye, but no kissing.”

  “You strike a hard bargain, but I agree, although if you change your mind on that count, then tell me. Immediately.” He stepped away from her, collected his pants, flapped the sand from the leather, shoved his long muscled legs into each pant leg and fastened the ties at his waist.

  “Are you going somewhere?” He couldn’t leave now, not after all they’d discovered.

  “Only to hunt our evening meal. I promise I won’t be long.” He swept up his sword belt, nabbed a cherry from the basket which he pocketed and strode past her barefoot. As he reached the entrance to the tunnel, with her mind alone she rolled one of the larger rocks from near it underneath the high lip and he bounded onto the rock, jumped into the passageway and over his shoulder, smiled at her. “Thank you, and stay here. Don’t move an inch.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” She rested back against the rock wall at her back and softly sighed.

  Time is of the essence.

  Aye, in five days’ time she was due to speak vows with Donnan before a clergyman, vows her heart revolted at now having to utter. Her soul bound mate had finally come for her, and now she only hoped he hadn’t arrived too late.

  * * * *

  Tor strode down the tunnel, the pounding fall of the waterfall ahead echoing toward him. He’d been given so little time to woo his mate. Certainly losing her to another man wasn’t an option. He’d never be able to let her go, would steal her away before Donnan MacDonald ever could.

  Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the tunnel and into the clear night air, the waterfall a rippling sheet of water that arched from over his head and down into the steep ravine below. He walked to the end of the ledge and leapt onto the scrub-lined trail. Overhead, the night sky glittered with an array of stars, the full moon a bright and beautiful orb of gold rising higher with each minute that passed. The full moon had always offered his shifter kind the promise of finding their chosen one, a journey they all undertook under its heavenly glow when the time to find their mate had arisen.

  Tonight, he’d be with the one woman who was always meant to be his, or at least he would as soon as he’d caught them some dinner. He set out along the trail, rummaged and found a ropy tree root hanging loose along the side of the cliff then chose the perfect sapling when he came across it, one that would whip up nice and fast when attached to a noose snare. He fashioned the noose from the ropy tree root then with twigs hammered into the ground, draped the noose over the trap. A toss of dry leaves to hide the trap, the cherry he’d pocketed on his way out in place on the top as bait, and he was done.

  While he waited for the trap to catch their meal, he trod down the trail, reached the ravine at the bottom of the waterfall and swung his skin free of his belt, dipped the pouch in the stream and filled it up. Layla had asked for some time and he’d give it to her but while he did, he’d court her, exactly as she deserved and exactly as his heart and soul demanded he do. Showing her exactly who he was and how much he desired her would drive him over the days ahead. Five days in total. That’s all he had.

  Needing to ensure she was all right and not still fretting over the discovery of their soul bond, he headed back along the trail, collected twigs and the odd log along the way and returned to her.

  He bounded into the cavern, found her dipping and diving and exploring the cavern’s pool just as he’d done the first time he’d found this sacred place. He waved out and she swam toward him, emerged from the water, her golden tresses slick down her back and her beautiful brown gaze moving over him. “Are you enjoying your swim, Layla?”

  “Very. How’s your hunt faring?”

  “The trap is set. I’ll light a fire with this wood I’ve brought.” Arms full, he knelt at the rear of the cavern and tucked the wood into a pile beside him. He dug a small pit in the sand and set to work building the fire as she plopped down next to him. He pulled the stringy bark off a log, struck flint with his dirk and coaxed the sparks into life. After building the fire into a crackling blaze with the twigs and wood, he held out his pouch to her. “Would you like some fresh water?”

  “Very much.” She popped the plug and brought the mouthpiece to her lips. How he wanted to bring her lips to his, to kiss her and—damn it. He needed to leave before he toppled her onto her back and took her right here and now.

  “I’ll be back soon.” He jogged out of the cavern, back into the crisp night air, the rush of the waterfall and the peace and solitude of this sacred place settling over him and calming his fierce need at least a little. Being able to touch their chosen ones was vitality important to his shifter kind. Would be a difficult need to tamp down while she insisted he must.

  A soft snap dinged from the direction of his snare and he let out a heartfelt sigh. Thank heavens. Dinner was caught. While he tended to that, he’d be able to honor his word and keep his hands and lips off her.

  He tramped down the trail, removed the rabbit, took it down to the ravine’s stream and skinned and cleaned it. Done, he returned to the cavern and found his woman sitting cross-legged before the fire, her shift now drying and fluffed around her, her hands raised to the flames and a sweetly intriguing look on her face. “Are you warm enough?” he asked her.

  “Aye, I’m quite warm.” Smoke wafted from the fire and swirled with the steam rising from the pool. “I have questions, Tor, about you and your time. Do you mind if I ask you one or two of them?”

  “Ask however many you like.” He chose some of the sturdy sticks he’d brought in earlier and created a spit for the rabbit.

  “How careful are you when you fight for your clan?”

  “We fight in a slig
htly different way as to how wars are fought in this time.” He threaded the rabbit into place and set it to cook over the fire then eased in beside her, his legs extended and crossed at the ankle as he rested his back against the wall. “We join together in teams in order to work high-level government cases. Those cases ensure our country’s villains and criminals get locked away.” He removed his sword-belt, propped it against the wall within arm’s reach then unsheathed his dirk and whittled away at a small chunk of wood. That’d help him keep his hands busy for certain, and off her.

  “Then would you say you’re a…fierce steward for your clan and country, a keeper and a guardian?” The firelight flickered over her creamy skin, lit her drying hair with a golden halo.

  “Aye, a fierce steward is a good term. At times I oversee these high-level teams as we work together to ensure our mission’s success, missions that sometimes lead us farther afield than Scotland.”

  “You mean to say you, ah, sail from sea to sea? To other places?”

  “Aye, that is exactly what I’m saying.” Two slightly strange questions, or at least the way she’d worded them they had been. Fierce steward. Sail from sea to sea. Was there possibility another meaning behind her questions?

  “Will your team be missing you right now?”

  “Whenever one of our clan is away from Ivanson Castle, they are missed. Is it not the same here for you? I’m sure should you be away for some reason then your kin would miss you.” He carved the piece he whittled into the rough shape of a bear then worked on shaving it into even more intricate detail. The muzzle took form, the ears alert and standing up, just as his bear’s did.

  “Aye, my father already grieves for my leaving, but the Isle of Skye is where Donnan lives and thankfully ’tis no’ too far away.” She dipped her head, plucked at her shift’s skirts. “At least Father can visit me on Skye, whereas should I accept our bond, I would be over eight-hundred years distant from him.”

  “I’d never allow your father to lose you, and Cherub gladly transports Tavish and Julia back and forth, Finlay and Arabel too. I have no doubt Cherub would do the same for you.”

  “You’re right. Cherub is devoted to her kin, no matter where they live.” She lifted her gaze to his, tears suddenly welling within.

  “What’s wrong?” Hell, if he’d upset her again by one of his comments then he’d need to take his own blade to himself. “Your protection, your needs, and your heart’s desire will always come first with me. You are the missing part of me that I’ve been searching for. I need you to know that.”

  “I do, Tor.” She reached out a hand, his name rolling off her tongue so softly, so sensuously as she touched his arm. Never had another spoken his name with such an underlying current of need before.

  “What else worries you?” He gripped her fingers, squeezed, her hand so very tiny in his.

  “I have so much to think about. That is all.” She frowned, pulled her fingers from his and turned the roasting meat over.

  He returned to his carving, shaved down the bear’s legs, accentuating the silky pelt and adding paws and claws as he considered how he was supposed to continue comforting her while remaining completely honest.

  “Have any of your kinsmen ever discovered their mate was already taken?” She nibbled on her lower lip. “As I am.”

  “You’re not taken yet, and there is only one for us, the other our soul cries out for.”

  “None of your clan have ever accepted another, other than their soul bound mate?”

  “We accept only our chosen one in order to keep our bloodline’s ability to shift in place. That is why our shifter line now nears extinction. It has come to the point that if we’re now to survive, we need a new infusion of fae blood in our line to strengthen it. Our last clan birth occurred over five years ago, and that can’t be allowed to continue.”

  “You wish for children?”

  “Absolutely. I adore children, love their energy and exuberance.” He couldn’t wait to have a child he could guide in this world, one he could love and adore right alongside his woman. “What of you?”

  “Children bring such joy to one and all, and my father longs for grandchildren. He has told me so many a time.” She wriggled closer. “In all honesty, I also agreed to the betrothal with Donnan so I might be given the chance to have children of my own. My mother loved me, gave her life for mine, and I wish to honor her love by sharing my own love with my children.”

  “Then I promise to give you as many children as you wish for, or cubs since our offspring will be as I am and hold the heart of a shifter.” He held out the finished wooden bear for her, one he’d carved meticulously for her alone. “This is for you, to remind you of me. Will you accept my gift?”

  “’Tis a beautiful carving.” She leaned forward, her drying hair sweeping over his forearm as she plucked the bear from his palm then lifted it with her skill and twirled it in the air before her. She studied it, each and every intricate little detail. “This bear looks exactly like you.” She settled the bear in her palm and popped a kiss on its tiny head. “I shall treasure this gift. Thank you.”

  How he wished she’d pop a kiss on his head instead of his carving’s. He clamped his lips shut for fear he’d utter his desire out loud.

  “Is something wrong?” She looked at his tight lips, traced a finger over the lower one and he nipped her finger, sucked it into his mouth. Giggling, she plucked it free. “You have a very territorial bear.”

  “He’s also hungry for you, and I’m struggling to keep myself from touching you.”

  “Well, the rabbit is almost done. That is the only meal your bear is allowed to eat, no’ me.”

  The meaty aroma of their meal swirled all about and he removed the meat from the spit, set it to one side to cool down. “Tell me what your favorite food is.” He longed to know everything about her, every little detail, no matter how big or small.

  “Anything sweet. I adore honeyed plums and figs, lemon apple pie, and cherry tart. The cook makes these wonderful fruit pastries along with custard and cream.” She nabbed her gown from beside her, tucked the figurine he’d made her into the pocket of the red velvet and set her gown back next to his belongings.

  “We have what is called chocolate in my time, the most sensational sweet I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Oooh, chocolate. Even the name of it sounds decadent.” She licked her pouty pink lips and he almost whimpered with his need to lick her lips too. “How do you make chocolate?”

  “Ah…” He shoved his heady desire to lick her aside, tried to focus on her question. “I’ve no idea. I just know where to buy it.”

  “You buy your sweets?” Brows soaring, she wriggled closer, her knees touching his leg where he’d crossed them at the ankle.

  “Aye, from a supermarket or a store.” He’d love to drive her into the local village near Ivanson Castle and take her shopping in the sweet section of the mall. There was even a dedicated shop in the village that sold various types of chocolates from all over the world. She’d never want to leave that store.

  “Goodness, all this talk of food and sweets is making me very hungry.” She rubbed her rumbling belly.

  “Then let me feed my hungry mate.” He checked the meat, found it had cooled well enough. After tearing the meat into small slivers, he held up a piece for her. “Come closer.”

  Wriggled closer and leaning in, she pressed her hand to his chest, right over his heart. “Is this close enough?”

  “That’s much better?” His heart skipped a beat then picked up its pace. Gently, he slipped the morsel between her lips, his bear clawing to get even closer to her, to tip her onto her back on the sand and trap her underneath him.

  “This meat is delicious.” She chewed, her hand still a hot brand against his skin as he fed her another morsel then took a bite for himself. Small steps. Those would be what he’d have to take in order to win the woman who held the other half of his soul to his side. Slowly but surely, he would woo her until she co
uld no longer withhold herself from him. He certainly wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from her for much longer. He continued to feed her, until she held up a hand and pleaded, “No more for me.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Very.” She laid down on the sand, stretched with a smile of pure satisfaction, her gaze on the stars twinkling through the vent high above. “You finish the rest of the meal off.”

  He finished it, licked his fingers and stretched out beside her, the sand a soft mattress underneath him as he trailed one finger down her arm. “Would you like another swim?”

  “I would, but mayhap in the morn.” She yawned and curled onto her side as she faced him. “I’m tired. I rose early this morn since I had trouble sleeping last eve.”

  “I had trouble sleeping last night as well.” Unease at being so far away from her had taken ahold of him and wouldn’t let go. Even now, with her so close, she still remained too far from his touch. He longed to wrap his arms around her, tuck her in close against him and allow his scent and warmth to surround her.

  Instead, he waited as she drifted toward sleep and counseled his bear that a slow yet sure pursuit would be needed with their chosen one. Aye, she’d asked for some time and he needed to give it to her, although he had no intention of allowing her to keep her distance for too long. He’d never survive it if he did.

  * * * *

  The early morning sunshine beamed through the vent high above and flickered across Layla’s closed eyelids, while the steam swirling through their sacred cavern dampened her skin. From somewhere outside, birds twittered and she stretched, burrowed her nose deeper into firm flesh as the soul-satisfying scent of Tor surrounded her. Mmm, he smelled divine, like that of the outdoors, the sun and the sea and all that she adored about her homeland.

  She lifted one eyelid and bit down on her lower lip. Nay, nay, nay. Her legs were tangled with his and she lay almost half over top of him, her hands bunched in his tunic and his warm breath fanning gently over her forehead. How had she ended up in this intimate position? She needed to move away, with all speed, except when she tried to release him, she instead spread her hands more fully over his solid chest.