by Lucy Monroe
“Does she know your plans?”
“I spoke of them, but not in detail. She knows I plan to return to the MacLeod.”
Their swords clanged in rhythmic beats as they fell into a fighting pattern neither could easily break free of or win. It made them both sweat with exertion, but continued to show both their skills in a dull light.
“And?” Vegar prompted after a particularly loud clash.
“She never wants to return to the clan of our births.”
“She plans to live among the Sinclairs?” Vegar’s shock translated to a clumsy move on his part and it was his turn to weep blood from a small gash.
“Shona has family among the Balmoral.”
This time, Caelis was able to compensate for Vegar’s surprise-driven clumsiness and he did not draw blood.
“Are you going to let her go?”
“What choice have I?”
“The same options you had six years ago.”
Caelis stopped moving completely, his sword falling to his side as his friend’s words sank into his warrior’s heart. “My clan or my mate?”
Vegar shook his head firmly, no pity in his expression, only a good dose of disgust. “Giving up or fighting for the woman Providence has decreed as yours.”
Chapter 13
Chrechte nature runs true.
—TALORC OF THE SINCLAIRS
Caelis was no weak-willed coward unwilling to fight, but when he opened his mouth to say so, he could not get the words out. Because he had refused to fight for Shona six years ago.
He had left his sacred mate to fend for herself while carrying his child. Caelis had wanted Uven’s approval so much that he had dismissed his feelings for Shona and done as the laird ordered, repudiating her completely.
Six years ago, Caelis had felt trapped between his duty to his pack and alpha and the woman he wanted to make his mate.
He was just as torn in two directions now. How could he fight for Shona when it meant either forcing her to return to a clan she so clearly despised or abdicating his own responsibilities and the promises he had made to the Cahir?
“What in damnation are you two doing?” the Sinclair bellowed as he approached them.
“Sparring,” Vegar said, his tone just as surly.
The Éan recognized no alpha but their prince and were still acclimating to the concept of living under a laird’s authority within the clans.
The Éan had only recently joined the clans, having lived secretly in the forest under the reign of their royal family for the past centuries. The Faol had lost their royal family, or most of them, in MacAlpin’s betrayal.
A pack alpha was not so different from a prince to Caelis’s way of thinking though.
And they’d since learned that some of their own people yet carried the royal blood of the Faol. Himself included if the evidence of his son’s gifts could be believed.
“When two trained warriors spar, they do not draw blood.” Talorc glared with disapproval.
Caelis would have said something cutting in response, but the laird was right. There was no excuse for his and Vegar’s carelessness.
Vegar scowled, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. “This mating business is not so simple. No wonder my tribe encouraged bonding without seeking one’s true mate.”
“The Éan had little choice in your isolated home, but now that you live among the clans, God willing, many of your people will find their mates.”
Vegar did not appear brightened by the prospect. Caelis could not blame him. He’d no desire to give Shona or their children up, but neither did he enjoy the difficulties their bond created in his life.
Talorc sighed, his expression tinged with unexpected understanding. “Abigail gave me a fair chase.”
“She was ordered by her king to marry you.” Caelis did not see how the laird could have had to chase the woman.
“But a Chrechte desires the heart of his true mate, not mere promises of fidelity.”
“I would take the promises.” He’d had Shona’s heart once.
He had no doubts it was not on offer again. That organ now resided behind a prickly wall of impenetrable brambles.
“So you think.”
“A warrior has no need of emotional entanglements.” Vegar sounded very sure for a man so easily distracted by finding his mate.
“A warrior fights best when he has something of great value to fight for,” Talorc said, quoting ancient Faol tradition.
“That refers to our tribe, or pack. A Chrechte is not suited to life alone.”
“You quote more Chrechte teachings but do not understand them.” Talorc unsheathed his own sword, dropping into a fighting stance. “Come spar with me and I will see if you can keep your blood in your veins.”
Vegar and Caelis both moved to take opposing stances to Talorc. Soon the clang of clashing metal could be heard again, this time even more frequently and with more controlled rhythm.
“What do you mean, I do not understand our teachings?” Vegar demanded as he advanced on the laird.
Talorc maintained his defensive posture without losing ground to Vegar’s attack. “A warrior’s first concern is not his tribe or pack.”
Vegar stopped moving, shock holding his body rigid. “You do not teach your warriors this.”
“I do.” Talorc’s sword arced down, caught Vegar’s and tossed the other blade across the ground like a twig. “Sacred matings supersede even our duty to pack.”
“But…”
“A Chrechte can survive without a pack—but only in misery without his true bonded.”
Caelis nodded his agreement before thinking about it. He felt the need to point out, however, that, “Love is not necessary between mates.”
“Nay, but it makes life a joy when it is there.”
“You sound like a woman,” Caelis accused.
Then he spent the next fifteen minutes fighting a warrior that might well best him on the battlefield were they ever pitted in truth against each other, even with his new form gifted through the sacred stone. Because Talorc had been gifted as well and he was a formidable fighter.
Ciara’s connection to the Faolchú Chridhe had turned out to be an amazing blessing for the Faol, particularly those committed to fighting the Fearghall.
* * *
Caelis was sitting on the steps leading to the keep and cleaning his sword while trying to decide if he wanted to return to the loch for a dip to rinse away the blood, sweat and dirt of sparring, when Eadan came running up.
Eyes shining with excitement, Eadan called, “Da!”
Caelis heart squeezed in his chest and he smiled at his son. “What are you about?”
“We’re going searching for bugs.” And then the small boy launched into a tale about what kind of insects could be found where.
The excited words tumbling from his lips ceased as Caelis’s son’s gaze fell on the cut on his arm. “You’re hurt!”
Caelis shook his head. “’Tis naught.”
Eadan turned back to his mother, who had been walking a pace behind with Audrey and little Marjory. “Mum, Da is bleeding.”
Shona’s beautiful green eyes darkened with concern. “What happened?”
Maybe not all was lost. She’d responded to his touch with all the hunger she’d shown six years ago and had at least some consideration for his well-being.
“Sparring.” Caelis would have preferred not to answer, but he was no child to pretend not to hear what he would rather not have been said.
Shona’s confusion shone clearly on her lovely face. “I thought you were not supposed to draw blood during practice?”
“It happens.”
“It’s not supposed to.” Eadan looked up, worry etched in his boyish features. “Thomas said so.”
“Thomas has the right of it. Who were you sparring with that you came away marked?” Shona demanded.
“Vegar.”
Shona’s hands settled on her hips. “And you call this man a friend?”
“It was not on purpose.”
“How could it not be on purpose? It was his hand on the blade, was it not?”
Despite his own embarrassment at their poor performance on the training field, Caelis fought a smile. “Aye.”
“Well, then?” Shona’s foot tapped against the packed dirt in front of the keep.
“Vegar has his own wounds,” Caelis replied, figuring that would mitigate the little termagant’s ire.
“Vegar? He is hurt?” Audrey asked, her pitch rising with each word. “Is it a grievous wound?”
“Not likely.” Caelis snorted his disbelief. “He is fine; it is only a small cut like mine.”
“Where is he?” Audrey demanded, not in the least appeased.
She turned and looked over the practice field, as if the warrior would magically appear.
Caelis wasn’t sure he wanted to tell the agitated Englishwoman that Vegar had gone into the great hall to clean his sword and discuss plans for further Cahir training among the Sinclair.
“Where is who?” Vegar asked from behind Caelis. “Your brother is inside, speaking to the Sinclair.”
Caelis looked back over his shoulder. “The woman is wondering about you.”
Vegar smiled, smug. “Is she now?” Then his expression turned sour. “She’s not looking to avoid me, is she?”
Ignoring their banter, Audrey spun around and rushed forward. “Let me see.”
“What is it you wish to see?” Vegar asked, looking bemused for the first time in memory.
He made no move to block the blond woman’s hands as she pulled his arms this way and that until she discovered the small cut on his thigh.
She blushed crimson when she realized where her mate had been wounded, but did not back away. “This must be tended to.”
Vegar replied, “I planned to wash in the loch.”
“You’ll be washing yourself there as well,” Shona informed Caelis.
He shrugged. “If that will please you. It is not much to worry about.” But he did like the fact that she was worried.
“We will still see it cleaned and treated with witch hazel.”
“We?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll not leave you to your own mercies. You did not show enough self-protection to avoid getting hurt in the first place. I’ll not trust you to care for the results. It would upset the children.”
Eadan was squatting on his haunches looking under a large rock he’d turned over and poking at the insects he’d found there with a twig. Little Marjory chased a butterfly. Caelis did not think the children were particularly worried about his small wound.
Nevertheless, he didn’t argue. “We will go to the loch.”
“I’ll fetch the witch hazel,” Audrey said decisively and then smiled down at the little girl who’d just fallen on her rump reaching for the fluttery insect. “Would you like to come with me, sweeting?”
Marjory shook her head and looked shyly at Caelis and lifted her arms. “Want up.”
He reached for her, lifting her even as Shona argued he was too dirty.
“She’s a child, not a silk gown. She’ll wash.”
Marjory giggled as he tickled her tummy. “Isn’t that right, wee one?”
She nodded vehemently.
Eadan smiled, doing his best to hide the wistful expression on his face, but Caelis read it with easy accuracy. He reached down a hand for his son.
Eadan took it immediately and Caelis tossed his son up and around so he could sit on the warrior’s broad shoulders. The boy’s shout of glee pricked at the heart Caelis had told the Sinclair he didn’t need engaged.
This wound would leave him bleeding longer than Vegar’s sword tip, Caelis was sure.
How much had he allowed his own false thinking to cost him?
* * *
Shona finished treating Caelis’s cut with the agrimony Abigail had sent back with Audrey along with the witch hazel she’d insisted on. “There, that should stop it swelling.”
“’Tis barely an injury.” Her nearness called to his wolf and his libido.
He wanted to take her into the forest and claim her fully. Then she would admit they were meant to be a family.
Only he could touch her for pleasure.
Her breath caught as if she knew his thoughts. Perhaps she did. His hardened sex pushed the kilt away from his body.
She inhaled as if she was the wolf and his scent drew her. “Even the tiniest lesion can sicken.”
“I am Chrechte.” He brushed his hand down the side of her face. “We rarely take ill.”
She shivered but held herself back from leaning into his touch. “Need I remind you again? You are no god, Caelis. If Chrechte never sickened, all would still live since the first walked the earth.”
“Our natures are violent.” And sexual.
He wanted her until his teeth ached with it.
“Aye, no doubt. Your people surely have lost great numbers to war, but the fact remains…”
“None live forever, though we do tend to live longer. And our mates with us.”
“Even human mates?”
“I do not know, but surely you have noted that Abigail does not show the aging of a woman with her years.”
“She’s hardly old.”
“She is older than her appearance would suggest.”
Shona looked thoughtful. “Why is that, I wonder?”
He shrugged. He was only glad that it was. Had the last six years not been difficult enough? He would not consider what old age might be like without his mate at his side.
Though he could not be sure now that she was not still intent on making him live without her. Last night notwithstanding.
She’d blamed that on his wolf and her response to the beast nature in Caelis.
Regardless, life was tenuous enough in the Highlands, even for the Chrechte. In that, Shona was well thought.
“There are some who live longer than others, by entire decades. Are they all Chrechte?”
“Aye, for the most part.” He could not think of a single human who lived into his dotage among the MacLeod, but that could have more to do with Uven’s attitude toward humans than anything else.
Shona sat back on the grass, her attention split between him and the children still searching for bugs near the shallow water with Vegar’s and Audrey’s oversight. The way Shona leaned on her arms put her lovely breasts on display and it was all Caelis could do not to take the unconscious invitation.
She straightened her skirts, the green velvet no doubt impressive by English standards but not what he wanted to see her wearing. He’d prefer her naked, but barring that, wearing a proper Scottish plaid.
She gave him a sidelong glance, her hands twisted in the heavy fabric of her skirt. “You said we did not have much time to discuss important matters.”
Here it was, the moment of reckoning. “We do not.”
“Why?”
“Caelis!” One of the Sinclair’s younger soldiers came running. “Vegar! You must return to the keep.”
Caelis jumped to his feet and then reached down to yank Shona up as well.
“What is happening?” she demanded as she fell against him, having not expected his move.
The feel of her body against his pushed against the urgency to follow Talorc’s command and insisted on another urgency altogether. “You heard. The laird has ordered us back to the keep.”
Shona was not similarly afflicted. “But why?”
“MacLeod soldiers have been spotted on Sinclair land,” the young soldier answered helpfully with a smile for Shona that made Caelis want to smash his teeth in.
“What? Why?” Shona’s body went rigid. “They are not welcome?”
“They are definitely not welcome.” He tugged her along, sweeping Eadan up into his arms on the way. “I told you, the MacLeod’s daughter sought refuge here last year.”
Vegar carried Marjory already, his free hand fastened around Audrey’s wrist as he pulled
her toward the keep.
“But she is living with the Balmoral.”
“And these MacLeod soldiers may well be on their way to Balmoral Island.” Not that they would reach it regardless.
They had trespassed on Sinclair land without permission after their laird had declared enmity with the clan. The warriors would definitely be detained, but allowing Shona and her family to remain outside the keep’s walls was not an option.
“Why are we rushing so?” Audrey asked breathlessly. “Would they not have been spotted a long ways off, as we were?”
“We do not know how far away the enemy is and we cannot be certain the Sinclair’s watch accounted for all who crossed our borders.” Vegar tucked Marjory more securely against his side and increased his pace.
Audrey tripped and nearly fell. Vegar did not slow down, but reached around her waist with his forearm, lifting her and carrying her as he did the child. Only he kept the woman’s front away from him, her backside pressed against his hip.
Audrey’s outraged cry cut off with an oomph as Vegar shifted her into a more secure position as well.
Caelis looked down at Shona and she glared back. “Do not even consider it.”
He bit back his grin, but made no move to lift her from her feet.
Audrey was busy complaining, but from what Caelis could see, his eagle friend completely ignored the Faol’s furious demands to be let down.
“Vegar is a strong warrior,” Eadan said, admiration in the boy’s tone. “Audrey is bigger ’n me.”
“Aye, she is at that. And louder,” Caelis answered after the woman in question let out a frustrated shriek.
Shona harrumphed. “You don’t know how loud she can get, but your barbarian friend will discover it soon enough if he doesn’t have a care.”
* * *
Caelis’s laughter at her warning should have annoyed Shona, but she found herself wanting to smile instead.
The man was too arrogant by half. So why did she find it so difficult to remain irritated with him?
Mayhap it was the way her son joined in his father’s amusement.
Without warning, Vegar dropped Audrey and Marjory to the ground, pulling his sword from its scabbard in almost the same motion.