Gawen's Claim: Highlander Fate, Lairds of the Isles Book One

by Knight, Stella

  Lila didn’t speak as they dismounted from their horses, but he saw her hands tremble as she moved to the patch of scorched earth, kneeling down. She pressed her hands to the ground, murmuring the words of a spell. She repeated the spell several times, and by the last utterance, she let out a low curse of frustration.

  "I sensed nothing," Lila muttered. "She has to be cloaking herself; she must know that another witch is searching for her."

  She closed her eyes, clambering to her feet. When she opened them once more, they shone with tears.

  "Last night—it shouldn't have happened," she said. Her words were akin to what he'd wanted to say, but they still caused pain to tear at his chest. "You told me to tell you to stop. But I let my desire control me, instead of focusing on honing my magic. Maybe I would have been able to stop her if I'd been focused instead of—”

  "No," he interjected. "I am laird and chieftain of these lands. What happened was no fault of yer own—it was on me. I came tae yer chamber; I kissed ye. I cannae say I regret what happened, but—”

  "But it can't happen again," she said, not looking at him. Gawen's gut clenched, but he forced a nod of agreement.

  "I need to send a letter to Siobhan," she said, still not looking at him as she approached her horse. He hurried forward to help her mount him, heat spreading through him as his hands grazed her hips, recalling how her bare hips had felt against his fingertips the night before. Her blue eyes locked with his, and he saw a flash of desire in her eyes before she looked away once more.

  What happened last night cannae happen again, he reminded himself, turning to look at the scorched earth the dark witch had left behind.

  He mounted his own horse, riding out of the clearing with Lila ahead of him, ignoring the pain that seared his heart.

  Chapter 16

  Conflicting emotions swirled through Lila's chest as she entered her chamber; the lingering ache of desire, along with shame. Her night with Gawen had been everything she could have hoped for. Even now, her face warmed at the memory of their entwined bodies, the feel of him inside her and his lips on every inch of her skin. But her shame rose, shattering her memories. While she had indulged herself in her desire, Malmuira had almost killed someone else.

  Malmuira. Lila shuddered at the name. The name of the dark witch who'd caused the anomaly in time, who had killed, who would kill again. She had cloaked her presence, making her impossible to detect.

  Lila had asked Gawen for parchment, quill and ink when they'd returned to the castle, and Mysie soon entered her chamber with the writing materials, setting them down on the side table before leaving with a curious look.

  She'd never written with quill and ink, regretting not practicing with Madeline when she'd had the chance. It took some time for her to write the missive to Siobhan, recalling everything she could about what Gawen had told her about Kudan and giving her Malmuira's name. She needed help from Siobhan, to determine if Kudan Munroe played any significant part in future events . . . or if she knew of Malmuira.

  If Siobhan couldn't provide her with any information about Kudan's role in the future . . .

  Lila's throat tightened at the possibility. She would have to tell Siobhan to send another stiuireadh to this time, someone stronger than her, someone capable of locating the elusive Malmuira and destroying her before she harmed—or killed—another person. Her conscience wouldn't allow someone else to come to harm on account of her lack of power. A sharp pain skittered through her at the thought of leaving Gawen behind, a pain she made herself ignore as she composed the letter.

  Once she finished the letter and waited for the ink to dry, she placed her hands an inch above the parchment, murmuring the words of the spell Siobhan had taught her to send the letter through time.

  "Snaithlean uine, cluinn mo ghairm. Snaithlean uine, cluinn mo tagradh. Treoraich an litir seo gu sabhailte tron ​​t-slighe agad gu Siobhan, san Eilean Sgitheanach."

  Once the letter shimmered and vanished beneath her fingertips, she got to her feet. While she was here, there was someone she could confide in.

  * * *

  “I may have to return to my time . . . to have my coven send back someone capable of tracking Malmuira down,” Lila said, taking a sip of the warm broth Coira had prepared for her.

  Lila sat opposite Coira in her drawing room. She knew that Coira, by her own admission, didn't possess much magical ability, but she was the only other person she could talk to here who'd traveled through time, and Lila needed to vent her frustrations to someone who could understand.

  “I donnae ken this has much to do with power,” Coira said. “How do ye ken that another witch willnae have the same trouble? Donnae place such pressure on yerself."

  “I have to," Lila insisted. "I came here for a specific duty . . . and I’m failing at it. Miserably. I—I’ve gotten distracted.”

  "By someone?" Coira asked, a bemused smile curving her lips.

  Lila shifted in her chair, her face growing warm at the knowing look Coira gave her.

  “I noticed the way ye and Gawen were looking at each other,” Coira continued.

  A denial sprang to Lila's lips, but it was pointless. Witches were more perceptive than most.

  “It doesn't matter,” Lila said instead. “I didn’t come here for any other reason but to—"

  “Do ye think I came tae the past seeking love?” Coira returned, arching a brow. “I was supposed tae be in this time for a fortnight at the most. But as soon as I met my Raibert . . .” Her voice trailed off, grief darkening her expression for a long moment. “Nothing compared—has compared—tae the love I felt for him.”

  At the word "love,” Lila stiffened, her heart performing a catapult in her chest. She cared for Gawen, and she’d never desired anyone the way she desired him . . . but love? That's not what this was. It was desire, pure and simple. She shook her head, as if to deny it to herself.

  “I desire Gawen, and he desires me. That’s all. You’ve seen the man,” she said, forcing a lightness she didn't feel into her words.

  “If ye say so,” Coira said, but it was clear she didn't believe her, giving her a long, knowing look. "Why donnae ye tell me how the future that I left behind turned out?"

  Lila was grateful for the change of subject and launched into a brief description of the future. The Second World War, the rise of technology, including a man being sent to the moon, which made Coira widen her eyes and press her hand to her mouth. When Lila was finished, she studied Coira with a wry smile.

  "Now that I've told you of the future, do you regret leaving it behind?"

  "No," Coira said, without an ounce of hesitation. "The life I had with my Raibert was worth leaving it all behind."

  A surge of envy filled Lila at her utter certainty, even at the look of pained longing in her eyes. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine a future with Gawen, sitting at his side during feasts, having more scenic picnics overlooking the sea, taking long horseback rides. A brood of red-haired children; Gawen chasing them around the courtyard while Lila looked on with a smile. The sudden, sharp longing that rose in her chest took her by surprise, and she had to close her eyes and expel a breath until the ache dissipated.

  When she opened her eyes, Coira was again looking at her with a knowing intensity. Lila wondered, with momentary panic, if she'd read her thoughts. As far as she knew, witches didn't possess the power of mind reading, though they could be preternaturally empathetic.

  “Thank you for listening,” Lila said, suddenly feeling very exposed as she got to her feet. “I should get back.”

  Coira stood as well, approaching her and squeezing her hands.

  "In all things, magic and love, 'tis best tae follow yer heart."

  * * *

  Tis best tae follow yer heart. Coira's words reverberated in her mind as Lila returned to the castle.

  Her heart swelled as she thought of Gawen; those handsome features of his, the way his eyes danced with laughter when he let his guard down.
A lump rose in her throat, one she quickly swallowed down.

  A future with Gawen wasn't possible. She was the one who'd told him their night together could never be repeated. And even if there wasn’t a rogue, murderous witch on his lands, Gawen had told her he intended to take a proper Scottish woman as a wife, not a time-traveling witch. And why was she even thinking of such things—who Gawen took as a wife was none of her concern. By the time that happened, she'd be back in her own time. Yet a shard of jealousy pierced her at the thought of this phantom bride.

  She halted when she entered her chamber, her eyes widening in surprise. It was as if her thoughts about Gawen had conjured the man himself; he stood in the center of her chamber, looking achingly handsome in his white tunic and dark-blue belted plaid kilt, his coppery hair sexily tousled, as if he'd raked his hands through it a dozen times. A sizzling desire burned at her center at the very sight of him. Making love to him had done nothing to satisfy her need for him: if anything, it had only increased.

  "I wanted tae see how ye were faring. I've addressed my men and told them that until we find this Malmuira, all recreational hunting is forbidden. I'm having extra guards patrol the castle and the surrounding lands. I’ve ordered all of my nobles tae let me ken if they see anything suspicious," Gawen said. “Where did ye go?"

  “I went to see Coira for advice."

  "Aye?" he asked. "What did she say?"

  To follow my heart. Something I can't do when it comes to you, she thought.

  "She's not well versed in magic, so she just reassured me," she said, pushing aside the thought. "Gawen,” she continued, swallowing the lump that again arose in her throat, “I’ve sent a letter to Siobhan telling her about Kudan. If she has no information about why he was targeted, and I'm not making more progress soon . . . I’m going to ask her to send someone else in my stead. Someone stronger, who can detect and defeat Malmuira before she harms anyone else.”

  She watched him closely, and even though she'd told him they needed to keep their distance, a part of her wanted him to ask her to stay.

  Gawen just stared at her in silence, a storm of conflict playing out over his handsome features before his expression shuttered.

  "Let me ken when ye are certain of yer departure," he said gruffly, as hurt and disappointment rose in her chest. "I bid ye a good night."

  He strode out of her chamber, and Lila sank down onto the bed with trembling legs, her stomach going tight as a realization struck her with the force of a nuclear bomb.

  She did love Gawen. Coira had seen it before she had. She loved him, and soon she’d have to leave him behind forever.

  Chapter 17

  Gawen dutifully kept his distance from Lila over the next few days. Yet their distance had the same effect as to when he'd tried to stay away from her before; his need for her only grew. His chest clenched at the thought of her leaving and sending another stiuireadh in her place; he'd wanted to protest when she'd told him of her plan but made himself hold his tongue, reminding himself that they'd agreed to not be lovers anymore.

  He would miss more than just Lila's presence in his bed. He'd miss her radiant smile and laughter, her fierce determination, her kindness.

  A melancholy over her pending departure descended over him, threatening to swallow him whole—a sadness he hadn't felt since he'd lost his family. He made himself bury the sadness deep within, just as he had during the three years after his loss, focusing only on his duties.

  He met with local farmers concerned about the recent murders and the attack on Kudan. For those who didn’t know about the stiuireadh, rumors were rife, with many assuming that a rival clan was targeting Clan MacRaild. Gawen had to reassure peasants and nobles alike that no such thing was occurring, that the murders and the attack on Kudan were isolated occurrences. As he took in their concerned expressions, he wondered darkly if they were thinking of his father: if he would have done a better job of keeping the clan safe.

  “No one is even considering that,” Aonghus assured him, when Gawen voiced his fears aloud. “Rumors are rife, aye, but no one doubts yer leadership. Ye're a well-liked laird, just like yer father before ye. But we must stop this aingidh before she harms anyone else.”

  “Aye. I ken,” Gawen returned.

  Though he and Lila were keeping their distance from each other, he knew she was focusing on her spells, determined to locate Malmuira before she harmed anyone else. Gawen had all of his guards on high alert, patrolling the grounds around the castle after dark. Still, he felt as if he was just waiting for Malmuira to strike again. He hated this sense of helplessness.

  “I’m taking Lila tae the house of Sgaire tae see what she can glean,” he continued, rubbing his throbbing temple.

  He’d intended to visit Sgaire’s home with Lila after learning he was missing, but both their lovemaking, and the attack on Kudan, had sidetracked him. He’d sent one of his men to Sgaire’s home to see if he’d returned, but he had not. Sgaire's brother, Niven, and the rest of his family were worried. Not wanting to disturb Lila, and trying to avoid being alone with her in her chamber, he’d instead sent a servant to inform her that they'd visit Sgaire’s home on the morrow. In spite of himself, he couldn't help but feel delighted at the thought of spending alone time with her, however fleeting.

  Aonghus grinned at Gawen's statement, looking relieved.

  "What amuses ye?" Gawen asked.

  "I'm glad ye're spending time with Lila," Aonghus said. "Ye've been rather unpleasant tae be around since ye've been keeping yer distance from her. Why have ye?"

  "'Tis none of yer concern," Gawen said. "And I've been unpleasant because there's a dark witch harming—and murdering—the members of the clan, people I'm honor bound tae protect."

  "I donnae think that's the only reason," Aonghus said, still grinning.

  "Aonghus—” Gawen began, exasperated.

  "I'll take my leave, my laird," Aonghus said, giving him an exaggerated bow. But he paused before departing. "Ye should ken . . . from what I've seen when I've glimpsed the lass, she misses ye as well."

  * * *

  Gawen tried not to stare at Lila—nor focus on Aonghus's words about her missing him—as they rode out to Sgaire’s home the next morning. It didn't seem like she missed him when they met at the stables; she'd barely looked at him as they mounted their horses and rode out of the courtyard.

  Lila wore her hair in one loose braid that wound its way down her back, a riding gown of deep crimson clinging to her curves, and a hot spiral of desire coiled through him at the memory of what she’d looked like beneath her clothes. It seemed as if his witch grew lovelier by the day, making it difficult to control his desire for her.

  Fortunately, Sgaire's home wasn't far from the castle. They soon arrived, tying their horses up in the stable before approaching. A single guard he'd posted there to alert him in case of Sgaire's return stood by the front door, giving him a nod as they entered.

  Gawen hung back as Lila headed down the long hallway, making her way to the rear of the home and entering the bedchamber.

  He trailed her inside as she moved to the center of the chamber, closing her eyes for several moments. And then, to his surprise, she made her way to the bed, lying down in the center. A shameful roil of lust swept over him at the sight: the memory of her lying beneath him as he thrust into her causing his cock to stir.

  Gawen averted his gaze, trying to think of anything but the tantalizing vision of Lila on the bed, but it took a Herculean effort to ignore the sight. How he wanted to join her on the bed, to taste those lips, to whisper how much he missed her, how much he needed her—

  Lila sat up with a sudden gasp, forcing him from the tumult of his lustful thoughts. Her eyes were wide, her skin pale, and she took several shuddering breaths. He hurried to her side, taking her hands in his.

  “I—I saw him. Sgaire. He—"

  A look of disgust darkened her face as she scrambled out of the bed.

  “He was in bed with—with her. Malm
uira. She’s just as Kudan described—long, dark hair, gray eyes. I don’t know how long ago it was. Sgaire is her lover. And wherever he is, they’re working together.”

  * * *

  “I want every one of Sgaire’s friends questioned, I want everyone he’s ever associated with questioned. I even want his former mistresses questioned. And bring them all tae me after ye’ve questioned them,” Gawen barked to the men he’d gathered in the great hall.

  After Lila had revealed to him what she’d seen, they’d rushed back to the castle where he’d sent for his trusted nobles and guards who knew of the stiuireadh, informing them that Sgaire was working with Malmuira. Lila hovered behind him as he doled out orders, and at the urgency and authority in his tone, his men heeded his orders without question.

  When they all left, Gawen leaned against the table, rubbing his temples; a throbbing headache had taken hold. How could this have happened? The men of Clan MacRaild had always been loyal. What reason would Sgaire have had to do such a thing? Was it Gawen’s leadership that was at fault?

  “You couldn’t have known.”

  Lila’s voice was close, wrapping around him like a soothing breeze. He opened his eyes to find her blue eyes trained on him with concern. He wanted desperately to take her in his arms, to allow her very presence to soothe him. And damn him, he wanted to make love to her again, to hold her close as he claimed her body with his. He wanted her—her laughter, her softness, her joy. Her.

  But he tore his gaze away from her lovely face. Lila had been right. They needed to keep their distance. It was his selfish desire for her that had distracted him. Learning of Sgaire’s betrayal was yet another blow.

  From now on, he would only focus on what was important, on the leadership duties passed down to him from his father, and his father before him.