Celtic Fury

by Ria Cantrell

  He said, “I am sorry, Lass. I shouldn’t have done that. I meant no disrespect to ye’ or yer deceased husband.”

  Brielle stood slowly, still careful of her movements and she put her hands on his shoulders. Looking up at him dreamily, she said, “Dunna’ be sorry, Ruiri MacCollum.”

  She stood on her tiptoes to reach him and leaned up to kiss him of her own volition, only she missed her mark badly and kissed that strong chin of his. He raised an eyebrow at her missed attempt at a kiss, and a slow grin spread on his face. She blushed, realizing how inexperienced she must have seemed to a man like Rory. Was he laughing at her? He was so tall that she could scarce reach his lips. His hands gently circled her waist as he held her closer and bending his neck, he lowered his mouth closer to hers, giving her the access she wanted so she could initiate the kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck and she kissed him, opening her lips slightly; wanting more from the kiss. He pulled her closer and in feeling his strength, it gave her added courage. Her lips parted, giving him deeper access and she felt the honeyed velvet of his tongue as it darted against her own. It made her positively weak in the knees.

  He felt her shaking and without thinking, Rory scooped Brielle up into his arms and carried her to a comfortable chair near the fire. He settled her on his lap and he kissed her in earnest, dipping his tongue between her teeth. It was then that he felt her kiss him back. Her tiny tongue was tentative at first, but as she felt him kissing her, she flicked it sweetly against his. She tasted of spiced tea, but her delicate little tongue was almost cool. Rory pressed her tighter to his chest so she could actually feel his heart thudding beneath the thick muscled flesh there. She could feel it, indeed. It felt sublime to feel it beating almost as if it was her very own heart. The feel of his arms around her was delicious as well. As their kiss deepened, Brielle felt something else happening inside of her. It seemed like a liquid warmth pooled in her belly, spreading downward between her thighs. She felt moist heat forming inside her and she blushed deeply.

  Rory thought she blushed because she felt him rising hard under her. He touched her cheek and said, “It’s alright lass. Dunna’ worry.” It was then that she understood. She felt him hard and thick and she gasped, in embarrassment.

  “I’m not going to harm ye, Brielle.”

  “I know.”

  “Do ye’ wish me to stop?”

  “Nay, oh Ruiri, nay.” She kissed him again to assure him to continue. Brielle loved the way it felt to kiss him. A small moan escaped as his lips continued drawing hers in a deepening kiss. Her lips felt swollen and she could feel the glorious scrape of the slight growth of his beard against her chin and mouth. So many new sensations were coursing through her and every one was wonderful and exciting.

  Caleb and Morag watched from a distance, happy that Rory and Brielle had finally acknowledged their attraction for each other.

  Caleb said to Morag, “Ye were right.” She smiled and just said, “Aye, our Ruiri is finally falling in love, thank the Heavens. This is the girl to heal all his old wounds.”

  Brielle looked into Rory’s eyes and she knew she had to tell him the truth. The time had come to be honest with him. She could not keep kissing him and not be truthful to him. Brielle forced herself to stop kissing Rory so that she could tell him the truth. He thought she needed to catch her breath, but he sifted his hand through her hair and gently pulled her closer to kiss him again. The feel of his big hand fisted in her hair sent shocks through her. She almost couldn’t bear to stop, but she could not keep kissing him and not be truthful to him.

  She pulled her mouth away and said, “Ruiri, there is something ye’ need to know.” He smiled down at her and said, “I already know ye’ are delicious.”

  “But I…” He touched her lips, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “Shhh, not now, Brielle. Just feel, no talking now.”

  He kissed her quickly and she sighed. She got lost in the kisses a little longer but then said, “Ruiri, please. I canna’ have this between us.”

  His fingers kept running through her hair as he looked into her eyes. His senses were dulled with passion as he touched her.

  “What is it lass?”

  With his fingers playing with her hair, it was difficult to think. His eyes held unspoken desire and she wanted to forget her confession for now and just lose herself in his kisses once again. She felt love filling her heart for this man, and therefore, she knew she had to tell him.

  “I…I…told ye I am from the highlands. Yer’ Da’ knows where I am from. I lived much of my life…in Castle Campbell.” At first, what she had said did not register completely through Rory's heated desire. “Ye lived there? Why,” he asked, lazily tracing a finger over her beautiful mouth.

  “Because I…”

  “Brielle, were ye a maid there? T’is no matter if ye’ were. Yer’ status is not so important to me. I am the last son of a laird. My status is last in line as heir.” Brielle looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. He believed her to be a serving maid. She wished she could let him continue believing that.

  “I was not a servant there. Ruiri, my grandfather was the Campbell. I am… Gabrielle…Gabrielle Campbell.”

  That explanation quickly broke through Rory's languid desire. His eyes grew dark and she felt him stiffen defensively.

  “Nay, it isn’t true. What trickery is this woman?”

  “T’is no trickery, Ruiri. I lived there, isolated greatly from the doings between the clans. After my grandfather died, my brothers were the only ones…”

  “Yer’ brothers,” he spat. “Those Satan’s sons! Brielle, how could this be? What other lies have ye’ told me.”

  “I have not lied to ye’, Ruiri.”

  “Aye ye have. Ye told me ye didna’ know where ye belonged. You made me believe you were English. You pretended to have lost your memory to avoid the truth.”

  The weight of her lie hit her and she stammered, “I w-was afraid. Did ye think I did not know who ye were? I knew of the bad blood between our clans.”

  “Bad Blood? Ye' think this is just Bad blood between rival clans?” Rory untangled her arms from around his neck and he lifted her off his lap.

  “Ruiri, wait…this changes nothing. I am not part of this feud.”

  He glared at her. “Oh, nay? For all I know t’was yer’ brothers’ arrow that killed…” He stopped abruptly. No! He would not say her name. Saying her name would not be wise right now when he was near to furious. Brielle stood and touched his cheek.

  “I know about yer’ betrothed and I am so sorry.”

  Rory moved her hand away as if she had burned him and said, “Dunna’ say it. Don’t ye’ dare! Her name is not to be spoken. Especially, not from the lips of a Campbell.” The way he said her name was almost as if he spit out poison.

  “Ruiri, please, please listen to me. I had naught to do with yer’ wars. I never knew any of it.” He looked down at her and all the previous tenderness was gone from his gaze. Hatred and disappointment flared in its stead.

  What a fool he had been to get caught in this trap. He knew better than to let his guard down, but he let this girl…this Campbell girl get under his skin. The errant muscle flexed angrily in his jaw and he controlled his voice to try to fight back the darkness that was once again surfacing. “Now that ye are recovered, I will see ye’ sent back where ye’ belong. Until that time, miss, you would do well to stay out of my sight.”

  He turned from her even as she cried, “Ruiri wait, please…”

  He stopped briefly, glanced one last time at her and strode from the hall. There, in his eyes, was not the look of hatred Brielle expected. It was a look of deep sorrow and disappointment. It was a look of crushed spirit, like all his hopes were gone. It was that look which tore at Brielle’s heart. It was worse than his hatred. It was as if she broke his heart all over again. It was as if she had betrayed him and killed his betrothed herself.

  As Rory stormed out of the hall, Caleb and Morag exchanged looks. Caleb s
wore an oath.

  “Bloody hell! She picked now to tell him who she was. T’is all my fault. I told her to tell him.”

  Morag said, “He had to learn the truth and the sooner the better. Now that it is out in the open, he can start to heal. Ruiri has to face his demons, Caleb, once and for all, else that darkness will swallow all of his light. Brielle can heal him in time.”

  “Brielle…dear God, look at her, she is devastated.”

  “Go talk to her.” Caleb entered the hall. The girl was weeping miserably; her head was bowed down in defeat. Caleb took her into his arms and soothed, “There, there lassie. He didn’t mean the things he said.” She sobbed against his chest and Caleb said,

  “He will come around.”

  “He…wants to send me back…I canna’ go there.”

  “You are not going back there. I’ll not allow it.”

  “I canna’ stay here, now.”

  “Never ye’ mind about that. Ye’ let me worry about that. Come now; go up with Morag and rest.”

  “He. . . he kissed me.”

  “Aye, Lass, so we saw.”

  “It felt like. . . he cared about me.”

  Caleb sighed. “He does.”

  “His hatred was quite apparent, as well.”

  “Girl, this has nothing to do with ye’, and in time he will come to realize it. Now go on up, child. Morag will see that you are settled.”

  Morag took the girl up to her room and settled her next to the fire, preparing a cup of tea laced with honey. Brielle continued to cry.

  Morag said, “Ruiri can be stubborn. Ye’ mustn’t take his words to heart.” A small sob escaped and she said, “I think…I have fallen in love with him.”

  “Aye, lass, of course you have. I knew ye had, despite yer’ own doubts. Caleb has known, too. Ye’ need to fight for him. Dunna’ give up on our Ruiri, now. Help him heal with yer love for him.”

  Brielle drew in a labored breath. Tears streaked her cheeks and she said, “I never saw such a look of hurt on a man’s face. It was like I killed his betrothed myself.” Morag tucked a blanket around Brielle.

  She sat next to Brielle and she said, “T’is time ye’ learned a little more about Ruiri. Let me tell ye’ about our Ruiri. If ye are going to love him, ye’ need to know all about him. There may be some things that will scare ye’ about him. If you love him, ye' will need to know it all. He has a darkness inside of him because of what happened. He blames himself more than the Campbells, for while it was their arrow that cut down Caitlyn, he always felt he should have protected her. Ruiri thinks he hides the darkness but I see it, and little by little it eats away at his spirit.”

  “Ruiri would never hurt anyone…”

  “Aye, lass, that is where ye are wrong. He would hurt someone and he can. He has, but only in warrior situations. Nay, I think he would never hurt a woman; not even a Campbell woman, but ye’ must know he is a lethal and powerful warrior. I’m afraid he would happily kill your brothers if the opportunity presented itself.”

  Brielle swallowed deeply. She unconsciously fingered that scar again and that action wasn’t missed by Morag. So, it was one of her brothers who inflicted that on her. That alone would give Ruiri his justification to take down the Campbell’s offspring if ever they came face to face. Rory would protect a woman at any cost, and it was only magnified if it was the woman he loved!

  “Ruiri vowed to one day avenge his betrothed if it meant finding each and every one of your siblings and cutting them down personally. At the time of her demise, his woman was carrying his babe. So t’was after her death, that he lost a part of himself. He fought with a vengeance and few could best him. T’was then he earned the title of the Highland Wolf, because of his relentless fury. He slashed his way through the highlands cutting down anyone who opposed him or his clan. Whenever there were raids, Ruiri was out in the forefront, first to plunge headlong into the fray. Sometimes I have thought that he hoped that in the midst of his warring, he would be cut down, too, so the pain he carries would die with him.”

  Brielle gasped. No wonder he hated her!

  “Oh Morag…I canna’ blame him for his hatred.”

  “Nay, but t’is time he faces the past and opens his heart to love. For as fiercely as he wars, so too will he love. Only he willna’ allow his heart to open…except for his beloved sister, his brothers and his da, he willna’ let his heart seek the love that will heal him. I believe in fate, girl. There is a reason t’was Ruiri who found ye, broken on his journey home. Ruiri had been in England near four years. It was no accident that he was returning home the same time your tragedy struck. I believe ye’ to be the girl to open his heart again.” Brielle took all that Morag had said into her heart.

  “Never has a man touched me with such gentleness. I owe recovering to Ruiri. I think he used his body to warm me when I was very sick. I had thought it a wonderful dream, but I am near certain it was he that warmed me.”

  “Aye, lass, indeed he did. He so needed to save ye’ because I think in saving ye, he saved a part of himself. He couldna’ bear to let ye’ die. I think deep down he knew ye’ would save him from the darkness that threatens his very life. Ye’ must fight for him.”

  “But how? I am sure he will now have nothing else to do with me.”

  “Ahhh, there ye’ are wrong, girl. He is drawn to you. Ye must be persistent. Get under his skin. Make him look at ye’. Force him to see ye’. He is already so very attracted to ye’. I promise I will help ye’ I think ye’ are perfect for him and I am an old woman and want to see him settled with bairns afore I die.” Brielle blushed.

  “I dunna’ know how to seduce him.”

  “Just be how ye’ were with yer husband.” Brielle looked down at her hands holding her cup of tea. They were shaking, slightly. She hated to admit this to anyone, as it made her look as if there was something wrong with her. Dragging a ragged breath, Brielle finally admitted, “My…husband never…touched me. I have never…” Morag clucked her tongue.

  “There’s the pity for ye’ are beautiful and made for a man to love ye’. Ach, our Ruiri will be perfect to teach ye’ about bein’ a woman in his arms.” Brielle felt hot tears sliding down her face.

  “When he kissed me, it was…wonderful. I knew for certain right then that I am in love with him. Mistress Morag, I had nothing to do with the death of his betrothed. But I canna’ blame him for feeling betrayed and to harbor hatred against me.”

  “Of course ye didn’t hurt that girl. He will realize the truth in time. And the hatred will be consumed by love. I believe if ye’ fight for love, it will prevail. ”

  Morag was convinced more than ever that this girl was Rory’s intended mate. She expected her to be afraid of that darkness that Rory harbored. Instead, Brielle merely dismissed it. It was of no consequence that he was the dreaded and feared Highland Wolf. She loved him despite his darkness. She did not even seem fazed by the mention of it. Morag knew that Brielle was well acquainted with the darkness in men for certain, being the sister of the Campbell scourge. It was just that the mere fact that Brielle was undaunted about Rory, set Morag’s heart at ease. She accepted Rory, despite what he tried to hide from everyone, including himself. Aye, she was the one. Rory needed her to set the darkness aside.

  Chapter Ten

  Caleb approached Ruiri, who was in the stables tending his horse. He could see by his stance that Ruiri was in that black place. Caleb neared his son and said, “She is as much a victim as Caitlyn.”

  “Dunna’ speak her name, Da Ye canna’ speak her name.”

  “Not speaking her name willna’ change the past son. Brielle is a mere innocent in this. She has suffered much at her brothers’ hands. She is in love with ye.” Rory looked stricken.

  “I did not tell her to fall in love with me.” Caleb rolled his eyes.” She should not have done that. It is not wise to love a man like me.”

  “Oh and ye had no part in it, Aye? Ye saved her life. Ye held her in yer’ arms. Ye cared for her
wounds and today ye kissed her.”

  “I should not have done that. I realize that was a mistake. She needs to go…back to Castle Campbell.”

  “Ye canna' send her there. I will not allow it.” Rory shot his father a look that bespoke of his disquiet anger.

  “Fine. Harbor the enemy. I will be sleeping elsewhere till she is removed from our keep.”

  Caleb shook his head but said, “First of all, Son, you brought her here. I didna' do it. You did. Ruiri, sending her back would be like throwin’ her to the wolves. That scar she bears…they did that to her…her own brothers, Ruiri. Secondly, she didn’t kill Caitlyn…”

  The sound that left Rory actually scared Caleb. It was part scream, part roar and all anguish. It was almost inhuman. Hearing the sound, with the naked fury, Caleb was reminded of the sound a mortally wounded wolf makes. Never had he seen his son in this state.

  Rory leapt up onto the back of his horse and rode it out of the stable. Caleb called, “Son…Ruiri…dunna’ go.” Rory didn’t look back, but rode from the keep. He rode like the demons of hell were truly at his heals and in a way, Caleb thought, they were. They were the demons of the past come to claim him.

  Rory needed to put distance between himself and the girl. Now, Rory was thinking he should have never left England. He wasn’t even aware that angry tears streamed down his strong warrior’s face. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Why the hell did he have to kiss that girl? He could still taste her honeyed kiss on his lips. He could still feel her soft and warm in his arms. This was insanity. She meant nothing to him. Despite the nagging voice in his head that said, “Then why does the hurt on her face haunt ye?” And haunt him it did. He saw the look of brokenness in his mind. He saw it, shutting his eyes. He felt it in his heart. He saw it when he was well in his cups, later that night, after finally riding to a local tavern. He saw her face when he had tucked Maggie into his bed to pass the night with and to dispel the hold Brielle had on him.