Draco slipped beneath the surface and searched for others. Not another living soul swam or lay near the women. The others could have drowned and sunk to the bottom. A sea beast might have claimed their souls. He smelled the stench of nearby creatures and knew Brianna and her companion had little time to survive.
***
“What shall become of us,” cried Nia. Tears mingled with sea spray to drip across her pale cheeks.
A light wind buffeted Nia’s tangled hair, and Brianna reached over to push several strands behind her companion’s ear.
“We survived the worst. With luck, fishermen or another sea vessel will find us. I believe we are near the mainland. Have faith.”
“Where is everyone else? I hear no one. Injured or dead, we should see someone else. We have called and called with nary an answer, only the squawk of filthy sea birds.”
“And sea birds indicate land. Please, hold on. I wish we could find a larger piece of drifting debris. Yer cask and my wooden slab canno’ take our full weight.”
“Aye. I would love to pull my body out of this fetid water. Who knows what might lurk—“
A splash stilled their conversation. Waves buffeted the women, and Nia screamed. A huge black fin broke the surface before disappearing below their feet.
“We shall be eaten!”
Nia’s screams horrified Brianna when she realized her words rang true. “Draco! I wish I ne’er left yer side!”
The water foamed and splashed as if more than one creature fought beneath the surface. Brianna stared through the sea spray, wiping her face with a tattered bit of fabric. She stared toward whatever swam beneath the surface. The sun glinted on something very odd. Emerald-green scales and a long, barbed tail curled just under the surface before the water clouded with a crimson hue.
“Is that blood?” Nia whispered.
“Aye. I think something has come to our aid.”
“I hope the beasties are no’ fighting over who gets to eat us.”
Brianna laughed aloud. The sound startled both her and her friend. “Nay, I am no’ crazed. Fear does strange things to a person. I, too, hope we survive this adventure.”
“Adventure?” Nia shook her head, pointing to a large piece of floating debris, and said, “Look.”
“Thanks be to Heaven. ‘Tis probably a piece of decking. Mayhap we can raise our feet above the water and look less appetizing to the beasties.”
“Good idea. Swim for it,” Nia cried.
Brianna led the way. Numb fingers clutched the jagged plank. Pain seared up her arms as the wood scraped away skin and dripped blood into the water.
“Ye first,” Brianna insisted when she saw a shivering Nia’s pale skin. Brianna rejoiced when her companion reached the safety of the large planks.
“Now ye,” Nia said.
“Move over a bit so I can—”
With a flurry of foam, she lost her grip.
CHAPTER 13
Water closed over Brianna’s head. She brushed against something scaly before it pulled her beneath the waves. Talons clasped her around her waist. Suddenly, she was above the ocean surface. Wind and water stung her eyes. She kicked and struggled against the vise-like grip holding her above the waves, as she tried to understand her predicament.
When she brushed damp locks of hair from her face, she stared at a horrifying reflection on the sea’s surface. A huge flying dragon carried a small woman in its grip.
Her hands flew to the claws wrapped around her middle. Held fast, the flap of the beast’s great wings filled the sky with an eerie thump.
The stench of blood intruded, filling her nose and making her gag. This beast had won the fight under the sea, but what happened to Nia? What happened to Gregor, Cook, and the rest of the party? Would any survivors know of her death at the hands of a dragon? Would anyone grieve her loss?
“Dear God,” she cried. “What about Draco?”
The beast trembled at her words, as it glided toward land. She recognized the steep cliffs of Staffa, and the beach where she gathered driftwood. She spied the waterfall where Ranald met his death.
Clenched between the murderous talons of a dragon, she made plans to run as soon as they landed.
“Draco! Help me!” He promised he would come to her aid should she call, but he could not hear her from this distance. The man owned no weapons and no armor.
Landing with a gentle bump on solid ground, the golden talons retracted. Now free, Brianna hiked up her skirts and blindly jumped over rocks and roots as she flew into the bushes. Low-lying brambles scratched her naked calves. She survived worse than this when a rope had tangled around her leg and pulled her under the sea.
“I nearly drowned. A sea beast wanted to eat me for supper, now a dragon has stolen me away to this island. What else could happen?” Out of breath, she glanced back at her attacker from the relative safety of jutting rocks and prickly groundcover. Nothing. No dragon.
Silence.
Suddenly, a high-pitched squeal made her jump. A huge boar, bigger than any the hunters had brought down during their stay on Staffa, pawed the ground a few paces from her hiding spot.
“Nice piggy,” Brianna whispered.
Great. I can turn and run back toward the dragon, or be gored by an irate pig.
“Go up.”
Who said that? No matter.
Turning, Brianna slipped a bare foot into a low crack in the nearest rock formation. Pushing upward, she climbed. Apparently enraged by her escape attempt, the animal’s squeals turned to angry snorts. When he collided head-on with its base, the rock shook.
“Go ahead. Knock yourself silly.” The boar backed up and struck again. The boar’s irrational mood and raw strength left Brianna’s bloody fingers grasping for a better hold, but she held. She nearly lost her footing when he attacked a third time. Clinging to loosened soil, which covered the jagged boulder, she also worried about the dragon.
Has it let me go, or does it plan to scoop me from my perch once I reach the top?
“Brianna?”
Shocked senseless, her grip loosened. She fell. The scrawny branches of a gorse bush, growing from a crack in one side of her stone perch, scratched her cheek and snatched at her hair. She screamed until she stopped with a thud.
A warm, male hand swept tangles from her face. The coarse skin of a masculine thumb swept blood from her painful cheek as she collapsed, with a sigh, into Draco’s chest.
“Ye do no’ fly. Do ye?” he asked.
“I certainly do no’, ye beast. Draco!” She pushed far enough away to stare up from his arms. “Be careful! A wild boar is near! He almost pushed me off my perch.”
“I should no’ wonder since I accomplished the task with only my voice.”
Stiffening with shock, she knocked him aside the head and squirmed until he stood her on her feet. Backing away from his taunts, she took a minute to straighten the creases on her frock. She sighed again at the damp, salt-encrusted clothing. They would never look clean again.
“I am happy to see ye. I thought ye left me,” he whispered.
He sounded hurt. Did he stand in her presence only to berate her for leaving with her adopted clan? Was the man unaware of the mortal threat she escaped only moments ago?
“Ye have no idea what I have gone through in the last three hours.” Her cries were a statement. She poked him in the chest.
“First, I nearly drowned in a hellish storm. Secondly, a finned sea creature threatened Nia and I. Thirdly, a dragon plucked me from the sea. I escaped. Fourthly, there is a killer boar nearby, and ye say ye are happy to see me. I, sir, stand before ye lucky to be alive!”
Brianna spun on her bare toes and walked away from the rock, the cliffs, and Draco. The path grew treacherous as it rose and fell, yet she pressed on.
I hope the stupid man goes back to his hole.
She walked high above Staffa’s straight cliffs in search of a small cave, or crevice. If she could hide from wild boar, dragons, and Draco, she might survive until a ship r
eturned to fetch her back to Glenelg. But, what if Gregor had drowned? If Nia was rescued, would she know of Brianna’s location? She must have seen the dragon carry her off toward Staffa.
“A shiorraidh! I can no’ spend the rest of my life on this forsaken island.”
“Heaven has nothing to do with ye or with this island. Will ye no’ stay with me?”
Brianna shrieked. Draco leaned against a basalt pillar. The odd-shaped rock formation, weathered under the strength of the winds, made him look at home. She shivered, and ran both hands up and down her arms. When Draco moved closer, she hissed.
His surprised look only reminded her how he disappeared after they made love.
“I had my reasons.”
He read my thoughts once again.
“What reasons?”
“My abilities are part of my curse. I wish I did no’ hear what ye think of me, as I only did what had to be done. I could no’ stay locked within yer body—”
“I do no’ wish to ever speak of that again. I acted without forethought. Love for ye swept me under yer spell.”
“Yer love has vanished? So quickly? Ye pain me, sweet one.”
“Yes, like a child, I believed I gave my innocence for good reason. Love.” She could not meet his gaze. She shut her ears to his words of condemnation. Let him judge her as he saw fit, but she owned these feelings. She cared not if he mocked her.
What if I should carry his child?
“We will love it. Together.”
“Stop! Stay out of my thoughts!”
Draco grabbed her before she could run two paces. Enveloped within steel, she squirmed to no avail. With a swiftness that made her knees give way, a vision burst within her mind.
Draco’s bloodied body lay bleeding upon the ground near the edge of a cliff. A shadowed form loomed above him. Then, it turned toward her. With stark terror clutching at her heart, she watched as her own image spun and jumped from the cliff.
“Nay!”
When he suddenly released her, Brianna collapsed. She could not meet his gaze. It bore through her, yet all breath had escaped her lungs. Fire blazed across her cheeks. Her facial scratches burned when salty tears dribbled earthward.
“What have I done now?”
Draco’s voice whistled through her head. Pain speared beneath the flesh between her temples and sapped her strength. Short, shallow breaths brought her down to earth, and she pushed away the fog. What could she do? Her visions always came true.
When forewarned, I shall stand forearmed.
“Ye did nothing, sir. I had a vision, ‘tis all. The pain passes e’en now.”
“I suspected ye to be an oracle, but had no knowledge these visions brought real pain. Have they always?”
“Nay. Only now, as if the terrible deed has already…”
“What? Tell me what ye saw.”
She dare not say another word, nor think of the horror of her latest vision. Draco’s gift might not shield him from the truth. She saw him dead or dying, and the pain of such a terrifying possibility consumed her, dousing her with raw emotions. Her love for this man smacked her in the heart, piercing her with an all-encompassing need to protect him from the beast.
Who else remained on this island? Certainly not Ranald. His ghost would have no power to maim or kill. The man lay dead in the sea or inside the dragon’s belly.
Right?
Draco’s fingers stroked the sensitive skin along the inside of her upper arm. She shivered under his caress, while lower muscles clenched with need. Draco gathered her into his embrace. She breathed him in, reveling in the tang of salt and musk and man.
“Let me warm ye,” Draco soothed. “Better yet, come home with me. I want to make love to ye.”
She swayed under the intoxicatingly sensuous lilt of his voice. Heat stirred in her most feminine place before she realized his meaning.
“Nay!” I will no’ go off with ye. Yer sinful ways have brought me nothing but grief.”
“Ye lie.”
She bristled at the way his quiet words insulted her even though he spoke the truth. Pain and remorse shuddered through her entire body. She wanted nothing more than to forget her previous life and go with this man.
Yet, if she stayed here with him, danger lurked. If she believed her vision, someone or something was destined to find them. When they did, the attack would injure or kill Draco, and cause her to jump off the cliff. But, who or what would terrify her so much that death seemed the better alternative?
Draco must not be conscious of her thoughts. Or, had her harsh words, meant to push him away, caused the frown on his face? He stood quiet, staring out over the sea. Tightly pursed lips and clenched fists could not hide his emotions.
“Draco, listen to me. There is a dangerous boar nearby, my friends and my laird may have drowned, and I might carry yer child. Can ye no’ see why I push yer sentiments away?”
“Nay. We are in this together. Besides, the boar has run off, yer friends may still live, and I love ye. Can ye no’ see the bright side?”
“Bright side?” She laughed while a tear rolled down her cheek at his admission of love. “I canno’ think of pl-pleasure while others may have met their d-deaths,” she said, sobbing.
He sighed and began walking down the trail back toward his cave. She followed because she assumed the wild beast would not be so eager to attack two people. Where had the dragon gone?
“Ye seem preoccupied with this dragon.”
She slid to a stop. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. She nearly tripped, trying to keep up with his long-legged pace.
Has he seen the beast?
“Draco, tell me all ye know about the dragon.”
“Why. Ye have decided he is a monster.”
“He tried to eat me!”
“Nay, he saved ye from drowning.” The man stood and stared at her, serious about his beliefs. True, the beast plucked her from dangerous waters and brought her near to the only person who knew her on this island. Might the two of them…
“Ask me.” Draco stopped at the top of the natural staircase. He stared out to sea basking in the gentle caress of the breeze. He released her wrist and stood tall and straight.
Brianna missed his touch. All warmth fled, and the breeze made her shiver. The sky darkened. She stood listening to the muted cries of far away sea birds, and the gentle pounding of the surf. With each breath, stars upon stars popped out to twinkle in an unsteady rhythm.
“The storm abates. Yer friends might live, since the boat went down within sight of land.”
“How do ye know? I ne’er described our location!” Her voice was shrill, and so unlike her, but she would not apologize. If the man owned the gift of sight, he must share news of her companions.
“I have no gifts. I am cursed.”
“Cursed to read my thoughts e’en when I deem them private? Cursed to know what happens far and away from this island? Explain how these be curses.” She crossed both arms over her chest, and tapped a bare foot on the hard-packed ground. When he turned to face her, she raised her chin.
“I am waiting.”
“A vengeful witch cursed me, long ago. I can read thoughts so I might understand the hatred people harbor toward me in my, ahh, other form.”
These last words, spoken at very low volume, made Brianna lean forward.
“Pardon?”
Draco grabbed her below both shoulders and pressed his open mouth to hers. She squealed in surprise, even as her body softened under his brutal ministrations. Draco pulled away and opened his mouth to answer when something flew between them. Brianna screamed as she tumbled to the ground. Night had fallen, and only a smidgen of light shown down from the star-strew heaven above.
Someone’s dark outline rolled and fought with Draco. He appeared too small to be the dragon.
Has Ranald returned from the dead with plans to take me and Draco with him to the afterlife?
She pushed to her feet, still bent at the waist as she squinted
at the rolling mass. Rags and scraggly hair, the stranger’s or Draco’s, filled her vision. The coppery smell of blood poisoned the air, snuffing the salted scent of the sea. The glint of starlight on metal pierced the night and forced her response.
“Nay!” Their attacker wielded a knife.
Has he spilt Draco’s blood?
Her earlier vision recalled, Brianna sprinted toward the grunting tangle of legs and arms, but they shoved her toward the edge of the cliff once more.
“Stop! Leave him be!” Her cries ignored, she searched the ground for a tree limb or rock without success. The sudden quiet forced her attention back to the form, which lay sprawled on its back. “Draco?”
Draco had collapsed beneath a huge, shadowy form. His attacker spun toward her. She would never give Ranald the satisfaction of taking her body as his trophy. Though he might not see her smile in the nearly complete darkness, she felt the pull at the sides of her mouth while she lifted her chin in defiance. She finally understood her vision. She also knew her visions could not be changed.
“Ye have killed my love. Thus, ye have left me with nothing to live for. Ye will no’ have me.” With her fate sealed, Brianna fled toward the open sea. Mere footsteps carried her to the cliff’s ragged edge. With a spring in her step, she sailed over the edge to her death.
“Nay!” Two voices filled her ears, and Brianna sensed she had made a grave mistake.
CHAPTER 14
“Gregor?” Brianna blinked and faced a ghost. Brawny arms, naked but for rags, released her and stepped away. A fire sparked and flickered nearby, lending light and warmth. His profile sported dark bruises. His hair flew wild around his face, though he usually tied it back with care and dignity owing to his rank.
“I am glad ye live, lass. Do ye no’ know me?”
“What of Nia. And Cook?”
“They live, child.” He stared at her fingers, clutched tight within his large hands. “My sailors and servants are fine, as well.”
His smile faded.
“The hunters in our party perished. A vessel from the isle of Mull spotted our wreckage. Then Nia told me of yer attack.”
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