10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

by P. L. Parker, Beth Trissel, L. L. Muir, Skhye Moncrief, Sky Purington, Nancy Lee Badger, Caroline Clemmons, Bess McBride, Donna Michaels

  It occurred to Caitriona he wasn’t pleased in the least that she wasn’t already long gone. If he’d had his way he might’ve even considered fighting until the death if it meant she would be saved. Well, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

  In a flash, they all arrived at the tree. “Stop,” Adlin said and came to a complete halt within its magical branches. “Come stand by my side. Now. There is something here.”

  Even as blood flowed down his leg, Alan said, “Nay, go. I will fight them and give you time.”

  “Alan, no!” Caitriona cried.

  He looked over his shoulder at Stephen. “Remember your promise.”

  “Aye,” Stephen said and grabbed Caitriona’s arm, pulling her after him.

  Struggling against the Broun was pointless. So she went with her gut and tried another tactic as Stephen pulled her into the tree. “With wizards three, I summon thee. Cum tres magi, te voco. Through time and space, I summon thee. Per tempus et spatium, vocat te.”

  “Bloody hell, no!” Adlin roared. But his magic had already ignited. The tree appeared to come alive as Alan was simultaneously pulled forward by her spell. Branches burst into blue flame, engulfing everything. Flaming heat then searing cold wrapped tight fingers around every inch of her body. What might have been the residual sound from Adlin’s roar turned into something much louder and more intense.

  There was a strange sort of peace that engulfed as if the tree tried to comfort.

  Then the sensation fell away and she dropped.

  Caitriona flailed as she fell, falling, falling, falling until she plunged into icy cold water, a heavy gush of waterfall pushing her down further. Desperate, she struggled to swim away from the beating water but its raging grasp ripped at her sodden skirts. Then she was being dragged and pushed by another until she slammed into something. Someone dragged her up and she fell back. Holding her chest, she coughed desperately until water sputtered from her mouth.

  As her vision cleared it became obvious they were no longer in the tree but a small clearing of grass at the foot of one of the largest waterfalls she’d ever seen. Panicked, she looked around. Everyone was there but Alan.

  “Oh no, please, no, no, no.” She crawled toward the water, searching frantically.

  “There!” Mildred cried. She pointed a bit further out. “Is that him?”

  Stephen made it into the water before her and with Adlin’s help dragged Alan onto the shore. Though violent coughs wracked him, he was very much alive. She brushed the damp hair out of his face, cursing the whole time. “Stubborn, bloody fool. What good did any of that do?”

  Alan peered up at her, voice hoarse. “Got out my aggravation.”

  Caitriona wanted to slap him. Instead she kissed him long and hard. If it weren’t for their audience she’d probably take him here and now.

  “Would you?” He asked. Despite a wounded leg he still grinned. “‘Twould truly please me, lass.”

  “It seems these two dinnae care which comes first, the gripe or the romp,” Arianna commented.

  “We never did,” Stephen said.

  Caitriona released a small grin. The air felt lighter. Danger felt absent. “Are we safe then?”

  “If we were would you have at it right there?” Arianna asked with a wide smile.

  Mildred cleared her throat and Caitriona realized there was someone here even more bashful when it came to this behavior than her. As such, she gave Alan one more peck on the cheek and moved away.

  Adlin wrapped his arm around Mildred. “Again it seems I have to ask if you are well, lass.”

  Mildred nodded. “Yes but I’d also like an answer to Caitriona’s question. Are we safe?”

  “Aye, verra. At least for this eve. We border Sinclair land now. Tomorrow they will find us.”

  Alan sat up. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off it was clear his wound bothered him. “How the bloody hell did we travel so far? I thought the Defiance didnae have the power.”

  “We didnae travel through the Defiance but through Fionn’s tree,” Adlin provided. He cast an irritated glance at Caitriona. “Though we almost didnae make it. Who taught you how to harvest the power of wizard’s three when you used a summoning spell, which by the way, could have killed us all.”

  Caitriona didn’t shrink beneath his gaze. “You did, Adlin.”

  “Did I?” He sighed.

  Mildred shook her head ruefully. “You really do cause all your own trouble.”

  Adlin shrugged in resignation. “So it seems.”

  “Do we make camp here then?” Stephen asked.

  “Aye, these woods will keep us protected.”

  Caitriona tuned out their chatter and placed her hands on Alan’s leg. Closing her eyes, she allowed warmth to flow from her abdomen, through her body then into his leg. Within a few moments, he sighed with relief then pulled her onto his lap.

  “Now you,” he murmured, pulling her close. Heat flooded her limbs and drove away the icy chill from her skin. She smiled, grateful, when her clothing dried in an instant.

  “How fare the rings?” Adlin asked.

  “Well.” Alarm hadn’t even occurred to her. They hadn’t been lost in the waterfall. Somehow she knew they wouldn’t be. Just to reassure Adlin, she pulled out the satchel and poured them into her palm. “Oh!”

  The arch wizard was there in an instant peering down into her palm. “Look at that!”

  The wooden rings were no longer…wooden. Now they appeared more the gems she thought the mere twigs might have been from the start. But not Scottish gems. No. These had the feel of the Celts about them. Golden all, each had tiny hands coming from separate directions. It was as though they held something not yet there.

  Again Adlin murmured, “Someone lost. Someone found. And someone made.”

  “Do you truly think our pact is influencing these rings?” Alan asked.

  “Most certainly.” Adlin shook his head. “I just need to figure out why. Soon enough the answer will make itself clear,” he muttered. “Until then, ‘Tis late, we will rest.”

  How bizarre this was all becoming. Caitriona put the rings back in the satchel.

  Alan’s whisper came close to her ear. “First we will take a stroll.”

  Caitriona heard the desperate desire in his voice. His adrenaline rush had turned to another sort of rush altogether. Before she had a chance to tell him otherwise, Alan stood with her in his arms.

  “My lass requires some discretion,” he informed and started into the forest.

  Arianna laughed, her words trailing behind them. “Well, we cannae have her being alone in such a foreign part of the country, can we?”

  Uncomfortable, Caitriona said, “I would have walked with you.”

  “Nay, you would have given me a fight and I have had enough of that for one day.”

  “Now everyone knows what you intend.”

  “Did you not start this with your kisses?” He grinned. “Do you not think they will all be doing the same?”

  Caitriona cringed. “Surely not Adlin.”

  “Well, why not? He is a young lad with a bonnie lass. I can promise you that he is as full of residual energy as me right now.”

  “Residual energy?”

  “From the battling.” Alan walked deeper into the woodland. “Makes we lads need a lass something fierce.”

  She understood the concept but that didn’t minimize her mortification. “There is nothing but trees and ground out here!”

  “So which would you prefer? Either suits me fine.”

  “Not verra romantic,” she muttered. Then again, she wasn’t particularly in the mood for being romanced. Cradled in his arms was stirring a more animalistic urge inside her. Or mayhap it was as he said, residual energy left over from the battling. The further he walked the more the day’s events faded and something else altogether replaced it. Strangely enough, he was making her feel captured...in a good way. Aye, if she said no and meant it he would stop. But she knew when he lowered her to her feet,
she wouldn’t mean no in the least.

  The forest had grown very still. Only the dim roar of the waterfall remained. When Alan towered over her, she leaned back against a wide tree. His hands fell against the trunk above and on either side of her head. Just him standing there so close, his eyes studying her in the near blackness, made her heart thud heavily in her chest.

  His soft words barely reached her ears. “I dinnae ever want to watch you die again.”

  She reached out and touched his tartan, felt the coarseness of it between her fingers, the heat of his strong body beneath. “I dinnae ken.”

  “At the mouth of the cave I received a vision. Had I not, you would be gone. Those arrows were never intended for me, Caitriona, but for you. They know you are a mystic.”

  Now it all made sense. His heartbroken rage. The crazed fighting. The fact that they knew what she was didn’t frighten her. Not with Alan for protection. She gently touched his cheek, letting her finger follow his near square jaw line. “And I dinnae ever want to see you try to die again for me.”

  “Expect no less if anyone tries for you in the future. I would battle the whole of Scotland to keep you safe.” He kissed the tip of her finger then the palm of her hand. “One thing is for certain, being here without you is not an option.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree when his tongue drifted lazily down the delicate flesh on the underside of her forearm.

  “Your taste,” he murmured then inhaled. “And scent. So sweet.”

  His hand cupped the back of her neck which gave him full control of where he wanted her lips. When his mouth closed over hers, it was with demanding talent. His tongue wrapped around hers as if to pull her even closer. His free hand yanked the fabric of her dress not down but tighter against her breasts, causing her already sensitive nipples feverish pleasure that whiplashed through her body. She trembled as blistering need made her womb clench and throb.

  Every harsh breath burned her lips.

  Her defeated legs shook.

  Her thighs trembled.

  All those feelings she’d had before with him rushed through her blood and the world nearly flipped. As if he unerringly understood what was happening to her, he pressed his hand down below where it would offer her some relief. She hardly recognized her own cry of release when it tore from her throat. He’d barely done a thing and she was already so far gone.

  In response, Alan half growled, half groaned. “Gods, I need you.”

  The man ripped away his plaid as though it stung his skin. It didn’t matter that she still wore her dress or even her cloak; he was as determined and desperate as he’d been when at war. If she wasn’t already completely lost she might have been distressed at how unwavering his blackened gaze had become. The way he came at her now was fueled by the fanatical need to take all and leave nothing left unscathed.

  She felt hunted, trapped and taken all in one singular feverish appraisal.

  When he pounced it was fast.

  Caitriona gasped as he hiked up her skirts. He made her feel weightless as he grabbed her backside with one hand, protecting it from the abrasive bark. One leg was then hoisted high and caught securely over his elbow. Crisp air against her core somehow increased sensation, making her swollen flesh vulnerable. Then blazing hot skin began to sear her, demanding entrance, pressing up into her.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and whimpered in both pain and longing. Damp, ready, her body adjusted to his intrusion quickly and all pain fled. Now his fullness created its own fluctuating waves of pleasure. Thrusts came fast and furious, his clever muscled thigh positioned in such a way that a delicious friction shot bolt after bolt of carnal pulse through her veins.

  There was no slowing down, no careful administrations. His was a need for freedom from the battle, a single-minded rampage to let go the last of his ferocity. Yet whether well-planned and executed as before or fast and furious now, her body responded. Heightened, overly receptive, she reveled in the push and sway, the very determination of his commanding aggression.

  Her heart slammed in her throat.

  Her toes curled.

  Alan cried out, his body bucking against hers in a long, throbbing release. The feel of his explosion released several more of her own and her cries mixed with his. Colors flickered everywhere behind her closed eyelids. Blues, greens, reds, whites.

  It seemed a very long, long time before darkness settled once more around her. When it did, though he’d released her leg, Alan still held her. Sometime when she was slowly drifting back down to Earth, he’d re-kilted and sat, back against the tree, holding her in his arms. Her head rested against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat a rhythmic lull that soothed.

  Nothing was said for a good stretch. When he did finally speak it was but one word.

  “Forever.”

  Caitriona understood what he meant, their twin souls. “I hope.”

  “There is no need to hope, lass.” Alan stroked her hair. “This that we share cannae help but find itself again and again. We are truly blessed by the gods.”

  “So you have forgiven them this whole prophecy then?”

  “I didnae say that. If they take you from me to fulfill it, I will hunt every last one into the afterlife.”

  “Alan,” she chastised and looked at him, troubled. “Talk like that will tempt them to finish you off for sure.”

  He frowned. “Fionn seems to be around when I am at my most vulnerable. ‘Tis time aplenty for him to finish me then.”

  Caitriona glanced around. There was nothing but harmless shadows. “You dinnae think he was here this time do you?”

  Alan smirked. “If I were him I should think so.”

  It didn’t seem to matter how intimate they were. He could still make her blush. “Atrocious!”

  “Why?” Alan shrugged. “You are a verra bonnie lass, Caitriona, and if ever there was a woman who seems part of all this that he helped create—” He nodded at the trees. “‘Tis surely you.”

  Caitriona only offered a small smile. While she’d always been drawn to nature she certainly didn’t see herself as part of it. Her mind went back to the satchel. “Why do you think the twigs have changed so much?”

  “‘Tis beyond me. Truth be told, I was always a warrior before a wizard. While magic holds its appeal, I much prefer a sword in my hand.”

  She ran her fingers over his strong hand, his long fingers, feeling the curve of his roughened skin. How many wars had these hands fought in? Far too many she guessed. “They are small rings.”

  “They are,” he agreed, intertwining their fingers. “Made to fit a lass.”

  Thoughtful, she said, “Why do you suppose three twigs that are part of a wizard’s pact turn into rings sized to fit a lass?”

  He shook his head. “We made those vows on a whim. To make the MacLomain clan stronger, protect it. Somehow, it seems, these rings are going to do that.”

  Caitriona leaned her head against his chest and murmured, “Someone lost. Someone found. And someone made.” Still holding the satchel, she put her hand over his heart. “You were good bairns.”

  Alan put his hand over hers but did not respond. Body spent and weary, she closed her eyes. It was hard to tell how much time passed before something jolted her awake. She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. Her highlander was asleep, her cloak pulled over them.

  Caitriona squinted into the dark night, convinced a faint light moved toward them. While it should have alarmed her, she remained drowsy and content as she watched. Bit by bit, it came closer. A mix of mist and light, it didn’t strike her threatening in the least. Through the mist came a person, tall and well-formed, the figure eventually became clear. His golden hair shone brightly and his skin glowed.

  Fionn Mac Cumhail.

  Cuddling closer to Alan, she simply watched as he crouched several feet from them, his kind eyes intent. “How do you fare, lassie?”

  “Verra well,” she whispered.


  “Alan will not awaken. You may speak without concern.”

  Yet she did not lift her head. “Tell me of the prophecy. Will I lose him?”

  “Twin souls never lose one another,” he promised, evasive. “Have you still the rings, child?”

  How was it that she understood his ancient Gaelic? “You know I do.”

  Fionn smiled then seemed to look north and at her all at once. “A stone is strength. Look for a rock that faces toward the land of ‘Eire. She will stand tall looking at the land like a long lost lover.”

  “A long lost lover,” she murmured, her eyes growing heavier. “A stone stands tall.”

  “That is right.” Fionn stood. It seemed he debated whether to speak again but decided to after all. “And tell your highlander something for me.”

  Her eyes were closed but she nodded.

  “I do not watch his physical love for you because mine is the love of a father.”

  She smiled, her thoughts turning to Alan. He would chuckle over such a statement. The god does not watch because he cannot love like a mortal. It seemed reasonable. Caitriona drifted then, her mind and soul with Alan. Images came and went. Of them together on land she didn’t recognize. Children ran around them. Everywhere she looked there were deep glens and high mountains. But always, there was Alan, smiling, alive, with her.

  When, at last she opened her eyes, Alan was there, his tender gaze on her face. “Good morn, lass.”

  Groggy, she blinked and smiled. “Good morn.”

  Dim light flooded the woodland. Birds chirped and a light wind blew, swaying the tall limbs overhead back and forth.

  His warm hand touched her cheek. “I never knew that watching a lass sleep could be so enjoyable.”

  Caitriona yawned and studied his handsome face, completely enthralled with the sharp, masculine cut of his dark eyebrows and the sweep of his thick black eyelashes. She realized that while his eyes were a deep brown they sometimes looked black not only because of his lashes but because of the dusting of black that seemed stirred into his actual eye color. Without any magic whatsoever, they had the uncanny ability to suck a lass right in.

  “Keep looking at me like that and this tree will see more than any one tree should,” he assured with a roguish gleam.