by Donna Grant
Her hips rose and rubbed against him. He withdrew his finger and slowly entered her again. She moaned and grabbed the covers. His thumb found her most sensitive spot and began to rub as he increased the tempo of his finger.
She clenched around him and cried out as the climax hit her, but he wasn’t done. He continued until she was completely drained. Only then did he raise his head. Never before had he wanted only to please a woman, but somehow Glenna changed things.
His body thirsted to plunge into her, needed her with a desire he had never experienced. With his breath coming faster and faster as he controlled his passion, she gave him a smile and traced his lips with her finger. That simple touch nearly sent him over the edge.
Glenna’s soft, innocent touch only ignited his passion higher. His tongue yearned to pull her finger into his mouth, to taste more of her flesh. Instead, he closed his eyes and prayed to keep his body under control. When he opened his eyes, he found her fast asleep, a hint of a smile on her sweet lips.
He arranged her gown and shifted her until she was lying on the pillow. He covered her and left before he sank into her and rode her as he had dreamed of doing. He strode to his chamber, and with every step wished he could have stayed with her.
Outside the castle, Beltaine still thrived and would until morning. His chamber door clicked into place, echoing in his lonely chamber. He dropped into his favorite chair and gazed into the fire while his thoughts turned to Glenna.
“A drink, laird?”
For just a moment he thought it was Glenna. He jerked around and spotted Effie. His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing in here?”
“I used to come every night, laird,” she purred, and ran her hand along his shoulder.
He stood and faced her. At one time he had thought her pretty, but now there wasn’t anything attractive about her. Her once-merry eyes were now tinged with cruelty.
“I didn’t invite you.”
Her gaze strayed to his crotch. “I know when a man needs tending, laird, and you most certainly need it.”
His body screamed for release, but the thought of lying with Effie turned his stomach. “It’s been a long time since you warmed my bed. You’re the one who refused me.”
She shrugged and tossed her head, sending red hair falling around her. “I’ve changed. I wanted marriage.”
“You still want to be married.”
“True,” she smiled, and licked her lips.
Two years ago he would have had her on the bed already, but a lot had happened during that time. For one he had come to know Effie had one thing on her mind….marriage.
To him.
“Why are you here?” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her his most stern expression that he saved for his soldiers.
“I’ve missed your touch. Isn’t that enough?” She ran her hands wantonly down her body and walked toward him.
“Nay. I’ve no need for you in my bed this night.”
Instantly her demeanor changed. Gone was the seductress. In her place was a woman scorned. Her lips peeled back in a sneer, and her eyes flashed angrily. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
He walked to the door and held it open. “Don’t come here again without my permission,” he said as she glided past him.
A shiver ran down his body. His mother would have called it a sign of something bad coming, but he knew it was nothing more than Effie’s cold nature.
But in the back of his mind he wasn’t so sure.
He slid the bolt into place. Why all of a sudden did Effie want him again? After a year of her practically ignoring him? He ran his hand through his hair and sat. The fire crackled and sparked and reminded him of Glenna. He blew out a breath and stretched his legs out to cross them at the ankles.
She wanted to live with the Druids. But there was no way he could let her go. He didn’t want to think about why he didn’t want her to go.
Mine.
Aye, she was his. His body told him that whenever she was near. He longed for her touch, to have her run her hands down his body, to have her surrender herself completely to him.
He would just have to convince her that the Druid way wasn’t her way. It would be difficult since Moira would make sure Glenna was reminded that the Druids were in her blood.
His thoughts crept to Moira’s words of a prophecy. He searched his memories but could only remember one. The centuries-old prophecy of three Druids bringing about the downfall of the MacNeil had been known to him since he was a lad.
When he had realized he couldn’t be a Druid priest, he had shut out everything he had been told, even going so far as to not use his skills. But now he needed to remember everything he had been told.
Something told him it was vitally important that he remember. In the meantime he needed to figure out a way to keep Glenna near. And then it came to him. She had saved Ailsa and himself as well as his entire clan.
He laughed. She didn’t even know what that meant to a Highlander, but she was about to find out.
* * * * *
Aimery grinned and stretched his arms above his head. His all-knowing power had picked up on Conall’s decision. Finally the Highlander would admit his soul was mated to Glenna. It had taken him long enough, Aimery thought ruefully.
His smile slipped. But there were still many obstacles to overcome, and some they may falter over. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. How long would he allow his Fae to sit back and watch the humans make the wrong decisions?
Not long. The Druids depended on the Three to save Scotland and their way of life. Time was fleeting in this, even for a Fae.
His eyes narrowed as he picked up on the evil stalking MacInnes Castle. Aye, it was time the Fae investigated this evil.
* * * * *
Glenna stretched and rolled out of bed to find she still wore her gown. Memories of the previous night flashed through her mind and she sank back on the bed. Her heart raced at what she had done, but she wouldn’t take it back. Conall had showed her something she hadn’t dreamed could be achievable.
She had also seen something she had never thought possible. Faeries had touched her, talked to her. Magic flowed in her veins, and with a little work she would be able to control it so innocents would no longer be hurt.
She smiled and rushed to freshen up, ignoring the sun shining bright through her window and the chatter of birds. She splashed water on her face and brushed her hair before plaiting it.
A look out her window showed Conall training with his men. Then, as if he knew she was looking, he raised his head and smiled at her. Her stomach fluttered, and she turned away before she embarrassed herself. The smiled stayed on her face while she straightened her chamber. She spotted the fireplace and the ash that still smoldered. She drew everything she had learned and concentrated. A spark fluttered and for a moment she thought it would erupt into a hearty flame. Instead it left only a thin trail of gray smoke that wafted up the chimney.
After she had brought Conall’s torch to life in the tunnel, she should be able to start this small fire. She squared her shoulders and tried again. Nothing. Not even smoke this time. She rose and stared at the ashes.
Frustration coursed its way through her. How could she be one of three great Druids when she couldn’t use her powers? She plopped down on the bed but jumped right back up as fire erupted, sending sparks everywhere.
She grinned. It wasn’t exactly as she had planned, but it was a start. Now if she could only learn to put it out.
* * * * *
Gregor leaned his head to the side until he heard his neck pop then he arched his back to stretch out the kinks from sleeping on earth packed with rock.
The Beltaine feast had been impossible to ignore. Something about the Druids and the mystery surrounding them had brought him out.
He had heard tales of how the Beltaine affected people, but he hadn’t been prepared for the sight of all the naked glory. He had caught a brief glimpse of Conall and wondered if he had found such a will
ing bed partner as the one who lay next to him with a grin upon her face. Gregor had eagerly followed her into the woods, but if he had hoped to feel anything more than physical release he had been disappointed.
The woman moaned and rolled onto her side, her red hair ablaze in the morning sun. What kind of man had he become if he wasn’t disturbed that the woman had whispered Conall’s name instead of his?
This wasn’t the life he had hoped for, but what else could be expected after his family had forsaken him, and his clan turned against him? This was as good as it was going to get. He had better realize that instead of becoming concerned with Conall and Glenna’s feelings.
* * * * *
Ailsa waited for Glenna in the great hall when she walked down to break her fast. “How did you sleep?” the child asked.
“Wonderful,” Glenna answered, and was mighty glad she wasn’t prone to blushing.
“Did the laird tell you what I told him?”
“About what?”
“When MacNeil came and I ran into the bailey. There was a cloaked man who said the laird wanted to see me. It’s why I ran toward him.”
Glenna sat with the bread halfway to her mouth. A cloaked man? There was an enemy inside Conall’s castle. She continued to eat and listen to Ailsa chatter about nothing in particular when suddenly Glenna found she couldn’t move.
Her stomach clenched and rolled as though it was about to lose its contests. She swallowed and tried to breathe evenly. Panic threatened to envelope her, and knowing Conall wasn’t nearby to lend his aide made it worse. Whoever had such hatred for her was very near.
Her eyes drifted around the hall. It was empty except for a lone woman. Effie stood about ten paces from them. And to Glenna’s amazement, Effie wasn’t looking at her. She stared at Ailsa.
There was no way she would sit and watch Effie harm Ailsa. Glenna thought back to Moira’s words and how she could control her body’s reaction to the hatred. With every ounce of strength she had, she rose from her seat. Effie’s eyes darted away from Ailsa and it freed her.
Glenna grabbed Ailsa and ran from the hall. Once outside, she took in huge gulps of air and leaned against the wall still holding Ailsa’s arm.
“Glenna?” Ailsa asked. “Are you all right? You look almost green.”
“I’ll be fine in a wee bit.” She tried to smile but didn’t think she managed it by the look of doubt on Ailsa’s face.
Without another word Ailsa turned and ran. Glenna started after her and gasped when Ailsa ran through the middle of the training soldiers to Conall. A few words spoken to her father and he strode to Glenna with Ailsa in his arms.
“She tells me you are ill,” he said, and gave her a quick look. “You’re pale. What happened?”
Glenna moved her eyes to Ailsa, and Conall nodded. He set her down and told her to go play. He straightened. “Did someone say something to you?”
She shook her head. “I began to feel sick and knew someone was close by. When I looked up, Effie was standing near us. Except she wasn’t looking at me.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Then who was she looking at?”
“Ailsa.”
“That child has done nothing to her. Why would Effie abhor her?”
Glenna shrugged. “You would know more than me.”
“Effie didn’t even know I had a child. There’s no reason for her to harbor hate for Ailsa. Angus and I’ve been looking into who could’ve shot the arrow.”
She thought of the cloaked man Ailsa told her about and of Effie. “Did you find out anything?”
“Nothing. I can’t believe someone in my clan would want to hurt my daughter. She’s innocent of anything.”
“What about Effie?” Something told her the cloaked man didn’t fire the arrow.
He chuckled. “Effie wouldn’t have done it. It was a man. Ailsa told me of a cloaked man who sent her to me.”
“I know. She also told me. I still believe Effie had something to do with it. I don’t like the idea of a traitor in your castle.”
“Neither do I,” he stated. “Women don’t get involved in these things. It was the cloaked man, and I’ll find him.”
But she wasn’t so sure, and she had to make Conall realize that.
“Angus is already questioning the clan,” he continued. “We’ll have the culprit soon.”
She lingered until he walked away before she straightened from the wall. She turned to find two women waiting for her, their faces anxious as their eyes darted around them.
“Hello,” she said, not expecting them to do anything other than their usual and throw their verbal barbs.
“Hello,” said the one with light brown hair braided down the middle of her back. “My name’s Grizel and this is Jamesina,” she said, indicating the dark-headed woman.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Glenna said.
“We…ah…heard that you really aren’t a MacNeil,” Grizel said, and shot Jamesina a look.
Jamesina stepped forward. “Is it true?”
So that was why they were suddenly nice to her. “Aye. I just found out MacNeil took me from my parents.”
“Do you know who your parents are?” Grizel’s hands were clasped together in anticipation.
“Sinclair. Duncan and Catriona Sinclair.”
Both woman gasped and looked from each other to Glenna. “Every clan in the Highlands heard what happened at the Sinclair castle ten and eight years ago,” Jamesina said.
Grizel nodded. “Have you found out anything of your sisters?”
Glenna’s heart plummeted to her feet. “Sisters?”
“There were three Sinclair daughters. When the castle was raided, it was just days after the youngest was born. It was said the other two were killed.”
“I knew nothing of sisters.” Glenna’s mind struggled to find some memory of sisters or a family but came away empty.
Jamesina touched her arm. “Then you must be the infant everyone thought also died.”
Glenna’s head began to pound. “Please, excuse me,” she said, and turned to enter the castle.
* * * * *
The Shadow pulled the cloak tighter around him. Now was his time to get revenge on Glenna. She would die this time, he thought.
He looked around to make sure no one saw him as he followed her into the castle.
* * * * *
Glenna had wanted answers and she was definitely getting them but faster than she expected. Her feet took her to the stairs and climbed until there were no more. She followed the bare hallway until she came to one of the six towers.
It was a square tower and not in use by the darkness and emptiness. She spotted more stairs and hurriedly climbed them, wanting to see where it led. At the top she found a door, its hinges rusting, and opened it to find herself looking over the loch. The breeze blew the hair out of her eyes, and she raised her face toward it as she walked to the edge and put her hands on the wall.
Why hadn’t Moira told her of her sisters? She had a family. Sisters. But it had all been taken from her.
Tears blurred her vision, and hatred for MacNeil swelled in her heart. Not only had he taken her from her parents but he had killed them and her sisters.
All her years she had wondered why MacNeil hadn’t shown her compassion or any feeling at all when he claimed to be her father. Things began to make sense now, especially why she had been kept inside the castle walls.
He hadn’t wanted her to learn the truth, and he had been right to fear she would learn everything outside his walls. What hurt worse was that Iona had also known. And hadn’t told her.
If she was a Druid, did that mean her sisters were also? Obviously MacNeil had known what she was, which is why he had taken Iona. She had to know why MacNeil killed her family, and she knew who held that answer. Moira.
She needed to talk to Moira, and it couldn’t wait until tonight. Her decision made, she turned to leave when rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders. Her hands clawed at anything she could find
when she saw the edge of the tower coming toward her. A scream tore from her throat. The attacker intended to push her over, but she hadn’t escaped MacNeil to be killed so easily.
She squirmed and elbowed him in the kidneys until she escaped her unseen attacker. She turned around to face him, only to find a cloaked figure. The cloak was about to come off his head, but before she got a look at his face a fist connected to her jaw.
The world tilted and spun as she landed with a jarring thud. Those manacle-type hands clamped around her throat. She resisted the blackness that threatened to overtake her to get a look at who was trying to kill her, but she could no longer breathe.
* * * * *
Conall’s head jerked up as the scream echoed around the hills. “Glenna,” he said, and ran into the castle, his sword still in his hands.
By the time he reached her chamber he shook with trepidation. He flung open the door to find it empty. Gregor and Angus ran into the chamber and looked to him.
“The towers,” Angus said as he pivoted and raced to the stairs.
Conall’s heart pounded loudly in his ears. That scream repeated again and again in his mind, her terror clear. They reached the top and each took a different tower.
“Here,” Gregor called from the square tower.
Conall rushed to the tower door and stopped. Gregor stood looking down at Glenna, her body lying still and silent. “Nay,” he murmured, and ran to Gregor’s side the same time Angus hurried to them.
Her hair had come loose from her braid and covered her face, but already bruises marred her cheeks and neck. Conall’s mind refused to believe she was dead, but he couldn’t make his body move to check.
Thankfully Gregor knelt beside her and moved her hair. “She lives.”
Conall’s legs nearly collapsed at those words. Relief surged through him and made him dizzy. But his elation was short-lived when he realized someone had tried to kill her. First Ailsa now Glenna.
“Who did this to her?” Gregor asked.